Hannah Morgan's life is at a standstill. Her dreams of becoming an artist vanished with the sudden death of her grandmother and mentor. To appease her distant and disapproving mother, Hannah gets a respectable job at a high-end day spa.
Instead of painting masterpieces, Hannah spends her days painting nails and giving facials to wealthy women. Her dreams for the future have become a hideous nightmare. And it just keeps getting worse. She catches her boyfriend cheating, loses her job, and has to watch from the sidelines as her best friend, Jasmine Blue, goes after her own dreams of owning her own salon.
Then she meets Aaron, a working artist, and finds in him a kindred spirit. And, to her surprise, she finds the courage to follow her dreams. When circumstances beyond her control threaten to destroy both her relationship with Aaron and her dreams of a bright future, Hannah fears her mother was right-that some dreams aren't meant to come true.
“As a small child I dreamed of growing up to be a chestnut mare. I was terribly disappointed when I found out people couldn’t magically transform into animals but I got over it by immersing myself in the world of fairy tales and thus began my lifelong passion for reading and make-believe.”
Lora Deeprose has a B.A. in Drama with a minor in History. She was born in the small town of Fort Saskatchewan, Alberta; the middle child of five girls. In 2006, she and her eldest sister moved to a hobby farm in the remote Kootenay area of British Columbia and for five years had several country adventures which included raising chickens and goats, encounters with wildlife and wrangling the neighbour’s horses. Currently she lives in BC’s Eastern Fraser Valley.
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I glanced up as a man took a seat across from me,
catching the barest whiff of his cologne when he walked by. It wasn’t an overpowering smell; it was,
well, yummy. I took a deep breath. The scent reminded me of a forest of ancient
cedars, of lush green plants, and sunshine.
I stole a quick look at his face. My breath caught in my throat as I looked
into a pair of the most gentle brown eyes I had ever seen. Little jolts of electricity shivered up my
spine. Without even thinking about it, I
smiled at him. The eyes staring back at
me crinkled deliciously and he smiled back.
I caught myself staring at his lips. I looked down at the magazine in my lap. I flipped through the glossy pages, but my
mind wasn’t registering what the images were, much less the actual words.
Oh my God, he looks as delicious as he smells.
I wanted to look at him again, to take him all in, but
I was nervous. Nervous and stupid. He just smiled to be polite, and I acted like
some giggly schoolgirl. I couldn’t help
myself; I stole another quick glance at him anyway. He had sandy blond hair, high cheekbones, and
an aquiline nose that would have made him look too haughty if it were not for
his eyes. A girl could definitely get
lost in those eyes.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I mumbled back.
“We’re ready for you now.” The shampoo girl approached from behind me.
Startled, I dropped the magazine on the floor. I stood up feeling like an idiot. Yummy Man reached down and retrieved the
magazine from the floor.
“Here you go.”
He held the magazine out for me to take.
I couldn’t think of anything witty to say so I just
smiled, took the magazine, and let the shampoo girl lead me over to the
sinks. I focused all my energy on
looking nonchalant as I walked to the shampoo chair, hoping my legs wouldn’t
give way before I sat down.
Hannah get a grip, an attractive man smiles and says
hello, and you turn into a brainless twit.
I pretended not to notice the sly smile on the shampoo
girl’s face. Instead, I leaned back and
closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the hot spray on my head.
The intensity of his focus on the
image and the pure, charismatic energy he exuded captivated me. I stared at him while he continued to tell
the story, his focus still on the photo.
His dark, wavy hair just brushed his shoulders, and
unlike Yummy Man, Aaron had a five o’clock shadow that accentuated his strong
jaw. He was average height with a long,
lean frame. I could tell he definitely
didn’t spend hours in the gym lifting weights, but he was in no way a wimp,
judging by the way that his sweater pulled nicely over the curve of his bicep
when he raised his arm to gesture at the photo.
Where were all these good-looking men when I started
dating Mason, and why were they all popping out of the woodwork today? Things were definitely starting to look
up. Maybe my life and my luck were
taking a turn for the better. I felt a
giddy impulse to start humming “It’s Raining Men” when Aaron suddenly
turned his gaze on me. His eyes were a
very pale blue, almost a silvery colour.
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