Will she have a fresh chance of lasting love in Holiday Falls—or will her loathing of Halloween get in the way?
Looking for a fresh start after her cheating ex left her and took her life savings with him, Poppy Reed thinks Holiday Falls will be the ideal town to begin again. She’s a perfect fit for the role of assistant manager at the Maltby Farm Inn, and owner Miranda thinks so too, hiring her on the spot. What Poppy doesn’t expect is that her new home will bring her in contact with handsome bartender Finn Gallagher.
Poppy and Finn share an instant attraction, and before she knows it, she’s in bed with him. Their sex is hotter than she’s ever known, made more exciting by Finn’s love of flirting with danger and letting Poppy take a dominant role.
Poppy begins to believe there are no limits to what they can do together—until Finn suggests a hot date at a local Halloween attraction. Poppy has hated Halloween since she was a kid, and their trip to the haunted house seems likely to ruin their romance, not take it to the next level.
Does their love stand the ghost of a chance, or will life in Holiday Falls be more trick than treat for Poppy?
General Release Date: 31st October 2023
I don’t think I’m going to make the interview on time…
Poppy peered out through the windshield at the driving rain. It hadn’t stopped falling for the past couple of hours and still showed no sign of letting up. The wipers squeaked and dragged as they did their best to clear away the steady stream of water.
She did her best to ignore the unpleasant popping sound coming from beneath the hood, as well as the indicator on the fuel gauge, which had slipped dangerously close to empty somewhere over the last ten miles.
It would have been more sensible to leave home yesterday, rather than getting up just before dawn to make the eight-hour drive from Pittsburgh to this little town in the heart of Massachusetts. But that would have involved an overnight stay somewhere, and Poppy couldn’t afford the expense right now, just like she couldn’t afford to get the Chevy’s engine looked at or the gas tank filled.
She cursed Bradley under her breath, as she had done so many times since he’d walked out on her. As if it weren’t bad enough that he’d left her for his PA, Jaime, when he’d gone, he’d cleared out their joint account, landing Poppy with a stack of bills and an irate landlord demanding two months in unpaid rent. Sorting those commitments had all but emptied out her meager savings.
Now all she wanted to do was forget about Bradley and his cheating, consign all his lies and excuses to history and make a fresh start as far from her old life as she could. Though, when she’d answered the job advert for an assistant to help run the Maltby Farm bed and breakfast inn in Holiday Falls, she hadn’t realized quite the distance she’d have to travel to get there.
The engine sputtered again, and Poppy’s stomach churned.
Please don’t die on me. Not now.
It would be just her luck if the car finally broke down, on top of everything else that had happened since she’d found out Bradley was cheating on her. But according to her map, the inn was less than half a mile down the road. If she had to, she could abandon the vehicle and complete her journey on foot. She pictured herself running down the muddy track, arriving at her interview soaking wet and bedraggled. It wouldn’t be the ideal first impression, not when she needed this job so badly. She issued a silent prayer to whoever watched over her, asking for the car to hold on long enough for her to reach her destination.
She rounded a bend in the road and spotted the sign that marked the entrance to the inn, its name picked out in neat black capital letters surrounding a stylized image of a bunch of red roses. Poppy hit the turn signal, and for the first time since the rain had started to fall, the ghost of a smile crept across her lips.
Maybe things are going to turn out okay after all.
She brought the car to a halt in front of the white-painted building with its neat front porch. A wreath of black and orange ribbons attached to the door gave her pause for a moment.
Oh Lord, don’t tell me they’ve started celebrating Halloween already here. All that tacky nonsense seems to start earlier every year, and I just know everyone will expect me to join in. But if that happens, they’re going to be disappointed…
Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she dared to risk a peek at the time display on the screen of her phone and realized she’d made her appointment with five minutes to spare.
Talk about cutting it fine.
Still, it gave her a few moments to check her reflection in the driver’s mirror, run a brush through her light-brown hair and apply a fresh coat of dark-pink lipstick. Her hazel eyes smiled back at her as she worked to project a confidence she didn’t feel. Telling herself not to worry, she had this in the bag—a trick her dad had taught her before she went for her first ever job interview—she grabbed her purse from the backseat of the Chevy, made double sure it contained her resume, slipped into her winter jacket then dashed for the shelter of the inn.
As she waited for her knock on the door to be answered, she glanced around, admiring the tubs of dark-red and purple dahlias on the porch. Everything here looked as if it were well cared for, giving a warm and inviting welcome to guests. The notion was reinforced by the woman who opened the front door.
Somewhere in her early forties, she had faint lines at the corners of her eyes that deepened when she smiled, and her blonde hair was twisted up in a practical knot and secured with pins. She wiped her hands on a blue-and-white striped apron, and Poppy couldn’t help noticing a faint smudge of flour on her cheek.
“You must be Poppy, right on time. I’m Miranda. Please come in.”
“Thank you.” Poppy walked inside to be greeted by the inviting scent of vanilla and warm sugar. “Mm, something smells good.”
“Oh, you caught me making a batch of orange-cranberry muffins ready for tomorrow morning’s breakfast.”
“Do you do a lot of cooking for your guests?” Poppy realized her mistake the moment the question was out of her mouth. “I mean, I know you provide breakfast for them, but I thought it would involve mostly eggs, toast, that kind of thing.”
“Well, I offer what I like to call the full Massachusetts breakfast—bacon, sausage, home-fried potatoes—and vegetarian options, too, but if you ask me, there’s nothing nicer than a homemade muffin to accompany a good cup of coffee. Speaking of which, can I get you something to drink?”
“Coffee would be amazing, thank you.” She’d stopped at a diner somewhere on the outskirts of Scranton and ordered a grilled cheese sandwich—the cheapest item she could find on the lunch menu—but that had been hours ago. Poppy hoped Miranda didn’t hear the rumbling in her stomach as she followed her through to the guest lounge.
“If you’d like to wait here, I’ll go get a cup for you and then we can make a start on the interview. Cream and sugar?”
“Just cream, please.”
Poppy made a slow circuit of the lounge. Like everything else she’d seen of the place so far, this room was designed for lazing in, maybe leafing through the pages of a magazine while you sipped a hot drink and decided whether to venture into town or simply spend the day relaxing at the inn.
The walls were mostly decorated with old paintings of countryside scenes and grand houses, but she spotted a photograph on a silver frame on the mantel. Miranda, together with a blond-haired man who looked at least a decade younger than she did. She didn’t think this was a brother—there was nothing in the way of a family resemblance Poppy could see as she picked the photo up and studied it, and anyway, she couldn’t imagine any siblings staring at each other with the deep and obvious romantic love this couple shared. Poppy set the frame back down, stifling a pang of envy. She couldn’t recall Bradley ever looking at her that way, even in the first few weeks of their relationship. Maybe it should have been a sign that he never really loved her.
Taking a seat on the couch, she told herself she wasn’t going to think about Bradley. He’d taken up real estate in her head for too long, and she didn’t want him there any longer. Instead, she mulled over her chances of landing this job.
This seems like it would be a great spot to work, and Miranda is so friendly. I think we could really get on…
She warned herself not to get her hopes up. She had no idea how many other people had applied for the role or had already been interviewed. Maybe talking to her and checking her resume was just a courtesy on Miranda’s part. Still, whatever happened, the drive here had given her time to reflect and come to the conclusion that whatever the outcome of this meeting, she had no intention of going back to Pittsburgh. She had no job there, no good friends, no reason to stay in the apartment she could no longer afford now Bradley wasn’t around to contribute his share of the rent. All her possessions were packed into the trunk of her car, ready to be unboxed wherever her new home might be. Even after spending a few minutes in the inn, she really hoped that was here.
“Okay, here you are.” Miranda had returned, carrying a tray with a French press, two cups, a jug of cream and, Poppy realized with a pang of joy, a plate of muffins. She set one of the cups on the coffee table in front of Poppy and filled it. “Help yourself to cream.” Clearly spotting where Poppy’s gaze had landed, she added, “I thought you might like to try one. They’re always nicest when they’re fresh from the oven.”
“Thank you very much.” Poppy reached for a muffin. A small moan escaped from her lips as she bit into the soft, warm interior. “Oh my God, this is so good. No wonder so many people talk about the food here when they leave comments about Maltby Farm.”
“You’ve been reading my reviews?” Miranda quirked an eyebrow as she sat on the wingback armchair across from Poppy and poured cream into her own coffee cup.
Poppy nodded. “Of course. I made sure to learn as much about this place as I could before I answered your job advertisement, but even looking at all the photos online, they don’t really do justice to how beautiful it is here.”
“So then, why don’t you tell me why it is you want to move all the way from Pittsburgh to work in a small-town bed and breakfast inn?”
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