Today, we have a Book Blitz to kick off for USA Today Bestselling Author Whitney Dineen's Pity Parade, book 4 in the Pity series. To celebrate this new release, we have a sneak peek with an exclusive excerpt! And... We also have a blitz-wide giveaway to share, too! So... Be sure to check it out and start the series NOW!
This night couldn’t be more awkward if Jeffrey Halloway’s dead wife showed up. Yes, in the last ten minutes, I’ve found out he’s a widower, a retired stockbroker, and in love with all seven of his grandchildren. Oh, and garlic gives him heartburn.
While he seems like a thoroughly decent man, there is no way I’m feeling anything romantic toward him. I blame that rat, Heath Fox.
I’m not saying I’m attracted to Heath—even though, truthfully, I know I am. But I will confess to being distracted by him. It’s not bad enough I had to run into him here in Elk Lake, of all places, but he’s staying right next door to the property I’m renting. Add to that he seems to being going out of his way to get to know the only people in town that I know, and I couldn’t be more annoyed.
***
When I return from the beach, I spot Trina hurrying around the deck next door. She’s putting buckets of citronella candles around to keep the mosquitoes at bay and she’s placing brightly colored throw pillows on the furniture. “Hey, neighbor,” I call out. “Getting ready for some company?”
Her head pops up in a startled fashion. “Oh … um … yeah. Rather, yes, I am.”
“Who do you have coming out?”
“Just a friend,” she says. “But they’re not very social, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to strike up a conversation with them.”
That sounds suspicious. “Why?”
“No reason.” She continues to dart around before coming to a halt. “Daniel has a stutter, and it makes himself conscious.”
“Daniel, is it?” Curious.
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No.” Yes. “Is he just a friend or is he more than a friend?” I ask.
“How is that any of your business?”
It’s not my business and I shouldn’t have asked, but I still want to know the answer. “He’s going to be my neighbor,” I tell her like this makes us destined for a lifelong bond.
“For a week,” she snaps. “Which is not a long enough time for you to bother with him. You probably won’t even see him.”
“Yes, but what if he shows up at my door asking to borrow a stick of butter or something? You can’t expect me not to talk to him.”
Trina puts her hands on her hips as the wind picks up and blows her hair around her like a swirling dark curtain. She looks like an epic heroine in a superhero movie. Look out, Wonder Woman. “If Daniel shows up at your doorstep, you have my permission to loan him a stick of butter,” she grumpily concedes.
“What if he asks for coffee?” This conversation is getting ridiculous.
She flings her hands out in front of her. “Then give him coffee.”
Nodding my head, I continue, “What if he wants to talk about you?”
“He never has to know we’ve met,” she says sternly.
“But you’re renting the place right next door …”
At that, Trina changes her mind about allowing me to talk to her friend. “You know what? Don’t talk to Daniel. I don’t care if he needs butter or coffee. You are not to speak to him. Do you understand?”
She’s getting really worked up over this and that piques my interest. “I don’t think that would be very neighborly.”
Trina picks up a pillow and punches it like she wishes it were my face. Then she puts it down and strides across her deck toward mine. When she’s within a couple of feet of me, she orders, “Heath Fox. I am not your friend and Daniel is not your friend. Do us both a favor and remember that.”
“Why aren’t you my friend?” I know I’m poking the bear, but darn it, I’m having a good time doing so.
“Why would I be?” she returns. “I’ve met you two times. On the first occasion you barely spoke to me and on the second you talked a lot before telling me you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
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