RETURN
TO DRAKE SPRINGS
A Next Door Category
Romance ~ Drake Springs, Book One
Cheryl
Norman
Lance George debates his decision to
return to his hometown, but the price is right on the abandoned veterinary
hospital he hopes to buy. He’s saved his money to open his practice by living
frugally and purchasing wisely. There’s no room in his life for wasteful
spending. His alcoholic mother squandered everything she had when he was
growing up, leaving him with an obsessive motivation to achieve financial
security.
Iris Porter
is unaware that she broke Lance’s heart in high school. She’s too busy trying
to earn a living in a tough economy. She hopes to reclaim her old job as a
veterinary assistant when Lance reopens the town’s only animal clinic. Popular
and friendly, Iris is known to be generous to a fault. When a friend’s baby is
stricken with leukemia, she organizes fundraisers and enlists Lance’s help.
Lance’s
feelings for Iris rekindle when he realizes how much she’s changed. The high
school snob is at odds with the caring, sensitive woman who wants to help a
family in need. But can he reconcile Iris’s generous spirit with his
overpowering need for penny pinching?
Short
Version:
Popular
cheerleader Iris Porter had no time for geeky Lance George in high school, but
much has changed in nine years. Lance has matured into a handsome, successful
veterinarian while Iris struggles to pay bills working part-time jobs. Can they
finally find romance together? Or can the quintessential miser tolerate her
freehearted, generous nature?
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Excerpt:
Lance George
cruised into town in a fog of black insects and misgivings. He’d had good
reason to leave home years ago. Was returning a mistake? He’d debated during
the entire three-hour drive from
Tallahassee and still questioned his decision. But he was here now. The moving
company had his packed belongings ready to deliver. Inhaling a breath for
courage, he slowed at the Welcome to
Drake Springs sign.
Searching
familiar landmarks, he recognized the Hurricane Lantern, a rustic restaurant
located on Highway 471. To his left stood the stately Wilson home, vacant and for
sale. Five blocks past the city limits sign, Highway 471 became Main Street. He
passed the First Foster Bank and Boyd’s Diner, both still in business. A left
turn here would take him to the high school, but he’d skip that detour down bad-memory lane.
The
stoplight at Main Street turned red and he applied his brakes. A flash of
purple grabbed his attention. Was that—? No, it couldn’t be. What were the odds
he’d return to Drake Springs and immediately see the girl of his adolescent
dreams? In the flesh—and what beautiful flesh—Iris Porter stepped into the
crosswalk walking a bicycle to the opposite side of Main Street. It may have
been nine years since he’d seen her, but with her blond curls sticking out the
edges of a bicycle helmet, she looked as adorable as ever.
She turned
her head and met his gaze but kept walking. She wouldn’t recognize him, and
even if she did, why would she acknowledge him? She had deemed herself too good
for him. He’d been a bookworm. A nerd. His limited circle of friends didn’t include
babes and jocks. No reason to hope her opinion had changed.
She
continued toward the courthouse. She hadn’t lost that subtle but alluring sway
of hip that drew the attention of every male student standing in the halls at
Foster County High—especially him. Instead of mounting her bicycle and riding,
she chain-locked it to an oak tree.
“What’s your
story, dear Iris?” He eased forward with the morning traffic while keeping her
purple shorts and T-shirt in his
peripheral vision. She still had her cheerleader’s legs and slender shape. If
anything, she was thinner now. She disappeared inside the Foster County
Courthouse. “Doing a title search? Paying your taxes? Filing for divorce?”
Iris’s
rejection in high school had driven him to succeed and improve himself, so
maybe he should thank her for stomping all over his heart. He continued his
drive through town, leaving behind Iris Porter and all conjecture about her.
When he
reached Ortega Street, he turned left and pulled into the parking lot of his
destination. A business property that once housed Hodges Animal Clinic faced
Main. Behind sat a modular home included with the business property. The lot
looked weedy, abandoned, and neglected. No wonder it had such an attractive
price tag. The realtor must have taken the online photos in winter, before the
spring foliage filled in the blackjack oaks. Now shade cast most of the lot in
darkness, forming a thick barrier against the hot Florida sun.
A middle-aged, heavyset woman stood in the
gravel parking lot. He parked his Transit Connect beside her late model Buick.
He’d recently purchased the economical business van in preparation for his new
practice. It was small enough to serve as his personal vehicle, too. Unlike his
mother, Lance did his research and made practical choices. Impulse buying got
people in trouble.
“Doctor
George?” The woman approached him with outstretched hand even before he’d fully
exited his van. “I’m Barbara Sinclair.”
“Thank you
for meeting me.” He shook her delicate manicured hand.
Everything about
the woman looked professional, from her perfectly groomed, chestnut hair to her
business attire. A few years and a few pounds ago, she was probably a real
babe.
“I feel as
if we’ve already met, from your e-mails.
I believe this property will suit your needs.”
“It looks
less cheerful than in the online photos.”
She winced.
“Weeds grow quickly in Florida. The reduced price should more than make up for
the little TLC the place needs.”
“Right.”
He’d reserve judgment until he inspected the buildings. He locked his van, an
action that earned him a bemused smile from Ms. Sinclair. She probably thought
it overkill for a small town like Drake Springs, but she refrained from
commenting. “Could you show me the office first? If it doesn’t suit, there’s no
need to tour the house.”
“Exactly my
thought. Follow me.”
He fell in
step beside her. “What happened to Otis Gibbons? I thought he was the listing
agent.”
“You know
Otis?”
“I’m
originally from Drake Springs, hence my interest in opening a practice here.”
She opened
the door, stepped aside, and motioned him in. The faint odor of antiseptic
mingled with the woman’s cologne as she moved past him. She’d been a bit
generous with her atomizer. “Otis sold me the business when he was elected
county commissioner. He didn’t want any question of conflict of interest.”
“Right.” He
shut the door against a swarm of love bugs. Those inescapable black insects
that frustrated Floridians every May and September seemed especially thick this
spring.
“It may be a
bit warm. I turned up the air conditioning about thirty minutes ago when I
opened the building.”
“Feels
comfortable.”
“The air
conditioner is fairly new. Four years old, I’d say.”
The office
was a converted Florida Cracker style house, with porches and a breezeway. The
reception area was in the former living room. A pass-through with added counter separated the public area from the
office. A few animal carriers sat along one wall of the former dining room.
“How many exam rooms?”
“Three. The
hall gives access both from the reception area and the operating room. There’s
also a bathroom.”
“Hmm.” The
equipment was gone, probably sold by Doctor Hodges’s estate after her death.
Stainless steel tables, gleaming as if recently polished, dominated each
examination room. “How long did you say this had been vacant?”
“About three
years, but Otis has kept the power connected. He also hired a cleaning service
to make regular visits.”
Too bad Otis
hadn’t arranged for lawn service as well. “That’s been costly for Otis.”
“Frankly, he
expected the property to sell quickly. It’s an attractive location, and Drake
Springs is growing. But even Florida wasn’t immune to an economic recession.”
She led him
around to the operating room, at one time the house’s kitchen. A door led back
to the dining room/office, where the receptionist’s desk and file cabinets now
stood. The rear of the house had a utility room, still equipped with a clothes
washer and dryer. One wall held stacked cages. A breezeway led to fenced pens
outside. He would have preferred more kennel room, but this could work.
“Well,
Doctor George, what do you think?” She closed the back door and walked down the
steps. “Want to see the residence?”
“Yes, I do.”
He followed her past the fenced pens to the back door of the doublewide mobile
home. “Where do people take their animals for medical care since this clinic
closed?”
“Right now
they’re driving twenty-five or
thirty miles, to Lake City or up to Georgia. Trust me, this town will welcome
you with open arms.”
He was
counting on it. He’d saved a tidy sum of money and had qualified for a loan,
but he needed equipment, supplies, and utility deposits. He wanted to make this
property work, because it’s all he could afford.
The blue
painted metal roofing on the home matched the roofing on the clinic. He’d guess
the modular home to be less than ten years old, although the roof made it look
newer.
“Is the roof
new?”
“About four
years old.” She unlocked the back door of the residence and led him inside.
“Doc Hodges made several improvements before opening her practice.”
Not a fan of
modular housing, he examined each room with skepticism. The floor plan was
surprisingly open and pleasant, with vaulted ceilings and plenty of windows. A
large great room separated two bedrooms and a bath from the owner’s suite and
kitchen. The walls were painted or paneled, rather than the patterned wallboard
he’d seen on older mobile homes. “Doctor Hodges lived here?”
“Yes. It was
convenient, especially for emergencies with animals staying overnight.” She
opened the blinds, revealing two windows overlooking the front porch and the
front yard’s large crepe myrtle tree, just beginning to bloom. “Her mother sold
all the furniture but not the appliances. Of course, if you prefer to live
elsewhere, you could rent it out.”
He gave a noncommittal
murmur, but he’d be nuts to live anywhere else. Living near the clinic made
economic sense. He wouldn’t spend more than he needed to. The bedrooms were
roomy enough, especially the owner’s suite with its own bathroom and walk-in closet.
“Cable and
high-speed internet are available
here, too.”
“Good.” He
didn’t need television, but internet was vital to his business. “Immediate
possession?” The sooner, the better, because he had no home. His mother had
lost their house years ago, and Pops had no room to spare.
“Yes.
Considering the amount of your down payment, you’ll have no trouble qualifying
for the loan assumption. As soon as we can schedule the closing, you can hang
out your open-for-business sign.”
“Well.” He
chuckled. “It’s not that simple. I need equipment, for starters. And staff. You
know any experienced veterinarian assistants?”
She led him
into the kitchen. The appliances looked new. Doctor Hodges hadn’t been one to
cook as far as he could tell. But Doc George enjoyed cooking. And he could make
the most of this spacious, well-appointed
kitchen.
“I know of
one. She worked for Doc Hodges but lost her job, of course, when her boss died.
She might welcome the opportunity to interview with you.”
“Thanks.
First, let’s write the contract.” He followed her outside to the long front
porch, additional construction to the original modular home, probably one of
Doc Hodges’s improvements. It faced Ortega, a residential street with tidy,
modest homes and mature shade trees. Empty except for a wooden swing, the porch
could be a cozy retreat at the end of the day, assuming he wasn’t too busy to
stop and relax.
Ms. Sinclair
removed a ballpoint pen and business card from her purse. She wrote on the
blank side of the card. “Here’s the name of the vet assistant when you get
ready to hire your staff. You can probably find her at Miller’s IGA Market on
Desoto, where she’s been working part time.”
He stuffed
the card in his shirt pocket. “Thanks.”
They walked
around to the front of the business via the sidewalk, which returned them to
the gravel parking lot. “Let me get my brief case and I’ll meet you inside.”
Jittery with
nerves, he went inside the building and paced the reception area. This was it.
He was about to gamble—no, not gamble—invest
his savings into his own practice. He’d have to start out conservatively, at
least until he knew how many patients he’d have. One experienced assistant
would be a good idea. He could hire more staff as his practice grew. He fished
the business card from his pocket and flipped it over to read the name. His
hand trembled. The card flew from his fingers.
He stooped
to pick it up and read the name again. And smiled.
Iris Porter.
****
Cheryl Norman grew up in Louisville,
Kentucky, and earned a BA in English at Georgia State University in Atlanta. After
a career in the telecommunications industry, she turned to fiction writing and
won the 2003 EPPIE award for her contemporary romance, Last Resort.
Her debut with Medallion Press, Restore My Heart, led to a mention
in Publisher's Weekly as one of ten new romance authors to watch. Running Scared, a romantic suspense set
in Jacksonville, Florida, and Washington D.C., received a Perfect 10 from
Romance Reviews Today. Reviewer Harriet Klausner calls her writing
"Mindful of Linda Howard." She currently writes the Drake Springs
series romance novels for Turquoise Morning Press.
Her
passion for cooking and healthful eating led her to write four cookbooks and an
award-winning blog, The Hasty Tasty Meals Kitchen (hastytastymeals.com). She
also offers writers grammar help via her Grammar Cop blog, newsletter articles,
and workshops.
In
addition to writing fiction and cookbooks, Cheryl works with other breast
cancer survivors to raise awareness about early detection and treatment of the
disease.
Visit Cheryl
at her Web site: http://cherylnorman.com , Twitter: http://twitter.com/cherylnorman
and Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/cherinorman
and Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/cherinorman
Books by
Cheryl Norman (Amazon):
RETURN
TO DRAKE SPRINGS (Book 1: Drake Springs Next Door series from Turquoise
Morning Press)
RUNNING OUT OF TIME (Turquoise Morning Press)
REBUILD MY WORLD (Turquoise Morning Press)
RECLAIM MY LIFE (Medallion Press)
RESTORE MY HEART (Medallion Press)
RUNNING SCARED (Medallion Press)
ROMANCE ON ROUTE 66 Anthology (Highland Press)
RUNNING OUT OF TIME (Turquoise Morning Press)
REBUILD MY WORLD (Turquoise Morning Press)
RECLAIM MY LIFE (Medallion Press)
RESTORE MY HEART (Medallion Press)
RUNNING SCARED (Medallion Press)
ROMANCE ON ROUTE 66 Anthology (Highland Press)
Short
fiction by Cheryl Norman:
Coming
soon: Hometown Blessings (Highland
Press’s Christmas Blessings
anthology)
The Christmas Prayer (Highland Press’s The Heart of Christmas anthology)
Veiled Threat (Turquoise Morning Press’s The Wedding Day Collection)
Twilight Time (Highland Press-Romance on Route 66)
Bad Moon Rising (Highland Press-Romance on Route 66)
Veiled Threat (Turquoise Morning Press’s The Wedding Day Collection)
Twilight Time (Highland Press-Romance on Route 66)
Bad Moon Rising (Highland Press-Romance on Route 66)
Giveaway: signed copies of the original Drake Springs
novels, RECLAIM MY LIFE and REBUILD MY WORLD.
US only.
Thanks so much for the spotlight!
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