My newest
novella, VANILLA WITH A TWIST, is part of the One Scoop or Two summer
series from the Wild Rose Press. All the books in the series have a few
commonalities: all revolve around ice cream in some form, all are summer
settings, and all are under 35,000 words.
5 things special to my book, in addition to the above requirements, are:
- It2527s
set in the fictional seacoast town of Beacher2527s Cove, New Hampshire.
New Hampshire only boasts about 17 miles of oceanfront, and I didn2527t
want to set the story in a town that2527s real because I wanted to be able
to manipulate the area, stores, and boardwalk to make it my own
creation. - The heroine, Tandy Blakemore, is the owner of
VANILLA WITH A TWIST, a boardwalk ice cream parlor. Tandy grew up on the
family2527s dairy farm and learned to make fresh ice cream from her
grandmother, using the milk and cream from the farm2527s cows. - I
gave Tandy very geographic-specific phrases to use when she2527s upset or
frustrated. Since this is a sweet romance, Tandy couldn2527t swear. When
she needs to explode, she uses phrases like Jeezeumcrow and Chips on a
cracker to express her frustration and displeasure, instead of more
colorful and bawdy language. - It2527s a sweet romance about 2
people who weren2527t looking for the other but found them, anyway. I love a
story where the hero and heroine don2527t think anything needs to change
in their lives, and then they meet someone and come to the realization
that this person is exactly what2527s missing from them living their best
life! Love that. - The effects of a teenaged mother who lives
in a small town are explored. Tandy was a 16 year old when she got
pregnant. The father was an 18 year old itinerant worker who never even
knew he2527d impregnated her. Living in such an insular, small community
where everyone knows everyone else2527s business was hard on Tandy. But she
survived the scandal and became a well respected business owner in her
hometown.
Blurb
Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenage son, and trying to keep her head above financial water. No easy feat when the shop’s machinery is aging and her son is thinking about college. Tandy hasn’t had a day off in a decade and wonders if she’ll ever be able to live a worry-free life.
Engineer Deacon Withers is on an enforced vacation in the tiny seaside town of Beacher’s Cove. Overworked, stressed, and lonely, he walks into Tandy’s shop for a midday ice cream cone and gets embroiled in helping her fix a broken piece of equipment.
Can the budding friendship that follows lead to something everlasting?
Excerpt
“Nope. Proprietary is my middle name.”
He laughed. “Mine2527s Basil.”
She tilted her head. “Your initials are D.B.W, like in dubyuh?”
His wince was as charming as his smile. “I know, pretty awful, right? In school, I was called D.B., which is even worse.”
“What do you like to be called? Deacon? Deke?”
“Deacon2527s fine. Is Tandy short for anything?”
“Nope. It2527s actually a mistake.”
“How so?”
“The nurse at the hospital who filled out my birth forms had a bit of a hearing problem.” She rolled her eyes at the story her brothers loved teasing her with.
“My mother wanted to name me Sandra after her own mother, and then call me Sandy to distinguish the two of us. The nurse heard it as ‘Tandy2527 and recorded it as such. My father found it hysterical, so the name stuck. It2527s kind of unusual, so…” She lifted a hand in a there- you-go gesture.
He flicked her a lopsided grin again. “It is, but lovely, too.”
Heat flew up her neck and sprinted to her cheeks.
“One of my partners says he doesn2527t care what you call him, but don2527t ever call him late for lunch.” He shook his head and forked in a chunk of his lobster. When, a half second later, he sat back and closed his eyes, a tiny moan blowing through his lips, she knew he was having a moment.
“Good God, this is even better than advertised.”
“Yup,” she said.
Deacon opened his eyes again and focused on her face.
“This is another of those recipes Ricky refuses to share,” she told him.
“That2527s too bad, because this”—he lifted his filled fork—“is something I2527d love to reproduce when I2527m back home.”
“Where2527s home? I don2527t mean to be nosy, but you sound like you2527re from the East Coast, only…not.”
“You2527re not being nosy. We2527re sitting, enjoying a meal, and getting to know one another.” He took a sip from his own water bottle as his gaze held hers. “I grew up in Rhode Island, but for the past fifteen years, I2527ve lived in New York. Manhattan.”
“I2527ve never been.”
“To the city?”
She shrugged and popped in another knot. “To New York.”
His eyebrows rose again.
“I2527m the poster child for small-town girl. Born, bred, lives, and will die here. I2527ve only been out of New Hampshire once, in middle school, for an all-states band contest.”
“Where2527d you go?”
“Boston.”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “Not exactly international travel.”
“Nope. Took a school bus. Competed. Lost. Came home. Didn2527t even have time for any sightseeing.”
“Now, that2527s a shame. Boston2527s a great town. I have an off-site office there, and I usually go up once a week on business.”
“What do you do? If I had to guess, I2527d think something in”—she tilted her head again as she regarded him—“finance. You look…I don2527t know.” A quick lift of her shoulder and then she said, “Successful.”
His laugh was swift, open, and free, and she felt it all the way to her toes.
“You make it sound like a curse.”
“I don2527t mean to, sorry. It2527s been…a while since I2527ve been able to sit and chat. Running the shop is a twenty-four-seven life in the summer months, and it doesn2527t give me time for other things. Like making small talk.” She glanced out at the water.
He was quiet for a moment, studying her, while she tried to hide the heat slipping up her neck again from her confession by dipping her chin.
“I can understand that. My business occupies my life twenty-four-seven, too.”
“And yet you2527re here, on vacation, so you2527re able to take some time away from it.”
This time his laugh held a darker, strained note.
He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the water bottle in his hands. “This isn2527t exactly a vacation,” he told her. “Not in the true sense.”
“A vacation2527s a vacation in my book.”
“In mine, too. Usually. But I didn2527t plan to take these three weeks away. I was, well, the best word is coerced.”
Author Bio
Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance writer who writes Romantic Comedies about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can2527t live without them. If she can make you cry on one page and bring you out of tears rolling with laughter the next, she2527s done her job as a writer!
Family and food play huge roles in Peggy2527s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, she brings all topics of daily life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she2527s created the families she wanted as that lonely child.
When she2527s not writing Peggy is usually painting, crafting, scrapbooking or decoupaging old steamer trunks she finds at rummage stores and garage sales.
A lifelong and avid romance reader and writer, Peggy is a member of RWA and her local New Hampshire RWA Chapter.
As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go “What??!”
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