Fall #RomanticTravel: I love Georgia’s Golden Isles, the setting for this book series. Jekyll Island is an especially romantic place with beautiful stretches of sandy beach begging for a lover’s stroll, bike paths galore perfect for bicycles built for two, and lodging at the Jekyll Island Club built by the millionaires of the Victorian Era.
Excerpt: Clack clack clack, the head council member’s gavel slapped against the folding table bringing order back to the room. The hum of murmured conversations shared between the locals dimmed. Planning commissions meetings had grown into increasingly crowded affairs as development of St. Simons Island exploded.
Suddenly, a familiar set of aqua eyes caught her attention.
What on earth was he doing here?
A spark electrified her, shooting down her back and through her limbs. No one could instantly make her crackle with awareness like Landon Beau could. For some reason the sizzle had lasted for more than ten years.
Kim didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or scream or cry.
But today she couldn’t let him distract her from her mission. She understood what she had to do. She needed to help the Society of Coastal Living, aka SCL, to save the stretch of land on the north end of the island near her grandmother’s house. She wouldn’t rest until the island had no more room for development.
Control. Order. Efficiency.
She had to stay focused.
The council member cleared his throat to address the crowded room. “We will be moving forward with LB Holdings, granting a preliminary rezoning permit for a subdivision. They have proposed a development that meets all the necessary specifications and requirements, and this committee feels will be a benefit to the island.”
Her chest seized as the words reached her. She had failed. An even worse, she’d let down her Grandma Rose.
Her vision blurred. She didn’t see the council members conclude the meeting or her fellow volunteers from the SCL get up and leave. The scrape of metal folding chairs being dragged against the floor echoed in her ears drowning out all other sounds.
LB Holdings would be tearing apart the land just down the street from Grandma Rose. Her quality of life would be destroyed. The rumble of trucks and crash of machinery would become a constant soundtrack for the next year on Grandma Rose’s wraparound porch, blocking out the sounds of the marsh. And the reward at the end would be a congested nightmare to get to and from her grandmother’s home. How could she have let her best friend down?
Why hadn’t she pushed harder? Why hadn’t she gone door to door to get support? Why hadn’t she done more?
Questions and regrets circled in her mind, keeping her gaze hazy and unfocused until a warm palm on her shoulder suddenly made her flinch. She jerked her hands up to a defensive position, palms out in front of her face, and then froze.
Standing before her, he was impossibly handsome with his chiseled features and sandy blonde hair styled without a strand out of place. His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her gaze drifted to his lips, transfixed by the easy smile that made his mouth off-center.
Rachelle stumbled into the world of romance novels in college; as a way to help speed up reading through Art History textbooks. After years in the professional world writing dry grant proposals and auction descriptions, she started writing the contemporary romance stories she wanted to read. Setting her books in some of her favorite destinations was her inspired way to require plenty of research trips every year with her family.