Publication date: 1/30/18
ISBN: 987-0-692-05772-8
Genre: Contemporary Adult Romance
Publisher: Amazon KDPS (self)
Retail: $9.99
Page Count: 466 pages
No one ever warns you how fine the line is between love and madness...
When Gabrielle “Bree” Valentine awoke in a hospital bed with a newborn baby, she centered herself and rebuilt. Bree didn’t think about her mental breakdown, lost memories, or the features of a stranger emerging daily in the face of the son she is raising alone. Five years later, on a weekend in the Hamptons, a chance encounter with a man unlike any other jars her—bone deep. Daniel Hawthorne Baird II, wealthy, dangerous, British aristocrat, gravitates to Bree like caviar on crostini. In his relentless obsession with Bree, their lives entwine despite Bree’s resistance. With the unconditional support of friends she calls ‘family’, Bree confronts the most difficult questions of her life. Unearthing the painful mysteries behind who fathered her child, who the real Daniel Baird is, and the irrepressible desire driving her towards a man destined to be the end of them both.
Chapter 5 - A Glimmer Named Hope
August tiptoed in around three in the
morning, and I finally fell asleep around six. When I awoke, almost six hours
later, I found the note he’d left telling me he was in a meeting in one of the
conference rooms and would meet me on the patio at lunch. I called Tristan and
apologized for not calling first thing, but he sounded happy and distracted. He
was playing horseshoes with Ian and Jill and getting ready for a cook-out at
her townhouse. I told him I loved him. Jill promised to take lots of pictures.
I showered and I blew dry my long hair
until it glossed. Women here typically wore pearls and boucle skirt suits, but
I had my limits. I quickly dressed myself in a tailored white blouse, minimal
gold jewelry and dark slim jeans and applied a little makeup before heading out
the door.
Just my luck, as I hurried through the
halls I bumped, literally, into a little red-haired girl who was crying. She
told me she lost her big brother, so I led her up to the front desk where the
girl told us her name was Amy and that she knew her mom was at the spa. They
sent out a page for a lost Amy, and an irate woman in a white robe, slippers,
and a face mask marched up.
“I told you to stay with your brother!
Can’t I get a facial without having a crisis? It took me days to get this
appointment…” she ranted to the little girl as she held her hand, dragging her
behind. Maybe she was better off lost.
Outside, on a massive paver deck, they’d
set up food stations with chefs serving lunch à la carte. I was hungry from having missed
breakfast and made a beeline for the meat-carving table. Most of the wives and
girlfriends had the same idea, and the tables were filled with ladies who
lunch.
I grabbed the first vacant seat I found,
only one other woman sat at the table. I was bad at introductions, but she
didn’t raise her eyes from her magazine, so we ate silently. She had a short
blonde bob and was very polished in—what else?—a light blue Chanel boucle dress
and multi-strand pearls. All she was missing was a wide-brimmed hat with a bow.
We wouldn’t have anything to talk about anyway, I concluded.
“Daniel!” she called out, waving her
hand in the air, flagging someone down. Within seconds, there stood Mr. V-neck
himself—Danny—flanked by two other dark-haired men. He was dressed more
casually than the other men, who wore full suits and ties. He looked like he
hadn’t gotten much sleep, and I noticed for the first time his hair color was a
rich, beer bottle brown.
I smiled warmly in greeting, but his
face was stony and he turned away. I guess Danny and I weren’t friends when
others were around.
“Join me, gentlemen,” blonde bob
implored. She was English too and clearly knew how to play her role here. I
realized then she was the other half of the V-neck Crew from the lobby—Danny’s
other half. As she waved her hand, I also noticed the giant sparkling canary
yellow diamond on her hand.
Danny’s nod was a directive; the two men
filled the chairs between us as he sat at the end, the blonde at his side. As
the men took to discussing financials, I picked up they were all English. I was
not impressed when they placed special orders to the kitchen, apparently too
good to plate their own food or eat what the rest of us did.
“Bree!” I heard and turned at the
sound of charging footsteps. I spun just in time to see little Amy barrel into
my chair, giggling. Everyone had turned towards the disruption, eyeing her
disapprovingly. Well, except Danny, whose eyes were closed and his brows were
knitted together as if he’d just been poked with a needle. She wedged herself
between the snobby suit guy, bumping his elbow, and fired away.
“Did you know my mom wears a wig
sometimes?” she announced, panting heavily from her run. I laughed
inappropriately loud before covering my mouth. She took that as encouragement.
“And sometimes, at night, I hear her in
her bedroom shaving her legs all by herself. Buzzz, buzzz, buzzz,
allll night. That’s what it sounds like. Yep,” she mimed while
nodding, smiling brightly. I was wide-eyed as I surveyed the table. The blonde
was aghast, as was the suit directly opposite her, but the guy to my side was
laughing and Danny observed her as though she were a curiosity.
“Little one, I don’t know if I’d share
that with anyone else today, okay?” I suggested amusedly as a pulled a stray
hair from her face.
“She won’t care,” Amy shrugged.
“Let’s keep it our little secret,
anyway,” I whispered.
“Cool,”
she whispered back, liking the idea of a secret.
“What’s your name, little girl?” the
suit next to me asked.
“Amy.”
“Amy, I’d like you to give your mother my card. Tell her it’s
in case she needs any help shaving tonight,” he said smugly, flicking
out his hand. She snatched the card. I hoped he was kidding when I saw the
wedding band on his finger.
“Okay! You two can come play with me now
if you want!” she exclaimed to myself and Suit One, bouncing on her heels. I
wondered if her mother had fed her bars of chocolate to placate her. Or
possibly uppers.
Her eyes bounced back and forth from the
suited man and me expectantly, he raised an eyebrow that said ‘how preposterous’, and I took a cue;
even his eyebrow seemed to have a snooty English accent.
“Amy, I think the nice man has business
to do, but maybe I’ll come and play later.”
“I’ll be on the hill.” She pointed
beyond the pool down to the sloping grassy hills beyond and then she bolted for
it. I snickered, observing her stumble once, her legs not fast enough for her
body.
I checked my watch, wondering where
August could be. As I did, the overcast sky parted for just a brief moment, a few
beams of sunlight rebelliously breaking through the gray and lavender clouds,
the rays falling like tiny radiant spotlights and in the corner of my eye, I
caught a glimmer of cognac—just like a spark—and an errant thought raced
through my mind, too quickly to catch.
I felt suddenly tense, like I needed
some air; air somewhere else. I rose from the stuffy table and smoothed out my
shirt, and by the time I looked up, Danny had risen from his chair; the other
men abruptly followed suit. I was puzzled by the gesture but I snapped out of
my daze, my inner tension returning, when the blonde grabbed his forearm and
gave him a look like he’d just stood for the maid.
I turned, heading for the hill where Amy
played and stood watching from the edge of the patio, trying to clear my head.
Several children were chasing each other and I smiled, thinking of my son, but
somehow I still felt…troubled.
I turned back searching for August, and
finally I spotted him. Of all things, he was standing beside Danny’s chair,
smiling and talking vividly—reassuring the troops, I’m sure. But as soon as he
walked away he began rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. He spotted
me and rushed over.
“Bree,” he said hurriedly, “I’m so sorry
I missed lunch. I’ve been doing damage control all morning.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“It’s beyond helping. A total disaster.”
I was going to ask more, but it seemed out of my depth.
“Don’t worry about me. Go do what you
need to,” I said firmly, leaning on tiptoes to kiss his cheek in hello and goodbye.
“Are you sure?” He laid his hands on my
shoulders.
“Yes. Now go be a superhero,” I teased,
shooing him off. He smiled, dropping a kiss on my cheek before hurrying off.
My old distress was replaced with worry
for August. Amy ran up and asked if I’d be “home base” in their game of hide
and go seek. I laughed, agreeing to the distraction. Several rounds in, she ran
up to me, sticking out her little leg.
“Will you tie my shoes?” she asked,
cutely, so I bent down to lace them.
“You’re pretty, Bree,” she sang
cheerfully then blinked. I smiled back and patted her head before she ran off
screaming to the hiders, “You’re in
trouble now!”
“You have an admirer.” I turned to see
Danny standing a few feet behind me.
“Uh, no, just a little friend,” I
replied, confused by his sudden presence.
“You make friends easily,” he supplied.
I laughed at the irony; I would have made more friends sitting at the
children’s table than at his. It clearly became his table once he sat.
“I found her in the hallway,” I
explained. “She was lost.”
It looked like the rest of his group was
gone, which explained why he was talking to me again. I was beginning to think
the parallel I’d drawn between his face and a sculpture was truer than I’d
realized. His face was always perfectly stoic, but he shook his head briefly as
if to say, of course.
“I think they’ve got a sixth sense, you
know?” I mused, watching the children play.
“About safe places to run?” I smiled at
his odd guess. He obviously wasn’t a kid person.
“No. Well, sort of,” I paused, wondering
how long he’d been watching the game. “I think they can sense other mothers.
They seem to automatically trust us,” I clarified, watching Amy maul a boy to
the ground. She reminded me of Violet. He didn’t reply, so I checked to see if
he was there. He was looking at his loafers.
“You have a child,” he intoned solemnly.
“Yes,” I replied with pride. “I have a
little boy.”
Finally he spoke. “I am…happy for you,”
he said. I thought he was being sarcastic but when he raised his gaze and his
eyes met mine, there was honesty there.
“I’m pretty happy for me, too,” I
replied, thinking of my amazing little son.
“Bree! I won! I won! I caught them all!”
Amy ran up and flung herself at me. I grabbed her just in time before she
knocked us both over, laughing.
“See, doesn’t this just make you want to
take one home?” I turned and said to the thin air where Danny had formerly been
standing.
Eat your heart out, Houdini.
~o~
Many hours later I was standing in front
of the two dresses lying on the bed, internally debating which to wear. Violet
had pulled them for me for tonight’s formal dinner, the main event of the
weekend and the primary reason I’d accompanied August. The first dress was a
silky deep blue empire waist dress. It was conservative and pretty. The second
was a fitted black satin gown with a thin satin belt with a diamond buckle. It
was glamorous and a little sexy. I tapped my chin and thought, what would
Nicole Kidman do? I grabbed the black Armani. I figured it might be time to
bring out the big guns—pun intended. Well, small C-cup guns, but whatever.
I hadn’t seen August since lunch, and
I’d spent the rest of the afternoon in a pottery class. While the employees
were in meetings, the company arranged different activities for the significant
others to participate in, like massages and facials, and some random things,
like photography and pottery. It was more like a babysitting service for the
pampered spouses. In fact, the only other person in my non-spa activity was the
husband of a female executive. While checking in with Tristan, I finally got a
text from August saying he was running late and for me to go ahead and get
ready.
I slid on my dress, zipping it tight,
and slipped on my black stilettos. The gown fit like a glove and made my waist
look the size of a champagne flute. I’d styled my hair in soft waves, parting
it on the side so a wave glided above my eyebrow, and then I added a vintage
crystal hair pin on other side. My makeup was usually minimal, but I opted for
dark eyes and red lips. My skin was a fair, creamy, light olive and my eyes
were the color of brown sugar with a touch of gray so the palette worked and I
was just rubbing in some moisturizer with a little shimmer on my bare
décolletage when I heard the door open and close.
“What do you think?” I asked, sashaying
out of the bathroom, extending my arms out as I whirled.
“Wow, Bree,” he breathed. “You are a stunner.”
“Is it too much?” I asked seriously,
dropping my arms to my sides, noticing how exhausted he looked.
“It’s perfect,” he said, seeming to
catch a second wind as he grabbed his tux from the closet. “They may just keep
me on to have you around.”
“I’m here to help,” I said, watching him
disappear to the bathroom. I knew I looked amazing, but I didn’t take it too
seriously. I considered my packaging to be battle armor for August’s little
war. I practiced walking in my heels, which made me feel ten feet tall, and
completed the ensemble with diamond drop earrings and a diamond bracelet I’d
borrowed from Jill.
August was showered and dressed in
record time, and he would have made James Bond cry when he stepped out of the
bathroom in his tux. He was hands down the best looking man I’d ever met in
real life. I grabbed my clutch and we headed downstairs for cocktail hour, linking
arms as we confidently entered the room.
Immediately, people swarmed August, and
I was swept up meeting and greeting as we worked the room, smiling brightly arm
in arm. Everyone looked great in their formal wear, though PETA would have gone
wild at the amount of fur present. My cheeks began to burn from smiling, and I
resisted the urge to tug at the bodice of my dress; it was garnering more
attention than I’d anticipated. We were talking to a nice older couple who
intrigued me with their ability to talk through clenched teeth like uber-posh
ventriloquists when August tensed, then whispered in my ear.
“Head’s up. Sharks in the water.”
I laughed like he’d made a personal
joke, and he smiled genuinely at my role-playing skill. I casually perused the
room. Maybe the gesture looked staged, but in a room so full of façade it went
unnoticed. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, despite tension being the
palpable undertone of the night. I watched as the crowd parted towards the
entrance for a tall couple, a shimmer of coral, and an entourage of tuxedoed
men following quickly behind.
A man I recognized as John—August’s
assistant—rushed towards us, quietly conveying a message to August.
“Fitch is at the bar, again. I need to
go handle this,” August whispered quickly, and I nodded before he finished.
I mingled aimlessly, chatting on
water-cooler level, when my Spidey-sense began to tingle. I spun my head, my
hair slithering on my shoulders as I sought out my seeker, but saw no one in
particular. It remained a vague ocean of tuxes, until Morris approached.
“My cherrie,” he cooed, quickly taking
my hand. He surprised me when he whirled me around. I cringed as the sweaty
hand gripping my fingers pulled it towards his lips. “You are a vision.”
“Thank you,” I replied tightly. Morris
smiled in a way that could make a girl uneasy.
“You look positively edible tonight,” he
complimented, leaning in and placing a hand on my back. I stiffened, craning
away. He smelled like he’d been hanging out at the bar with Fitch. In fact, he
smelled liked he’d spent the night inside a whiskey cask. He kissed the tips of
my fingers, adding, “And I wouldn’t waste one morsel.”
“Uh, that’s flattering, Morris, but
August will be back any moment,” I reminded him, as he leaned further in and I
did the opposite.
“I don’t understand why we don’t get
together sometime for—”
“Mr. Werp,” a controlled, gorgeous voice
broke in.
Morris dropped my hand and stepped back
immediately. I recognized the source.
Danny glared down with narrowed eyes.
Morris took another step back, and that seemed like a good idea; Danny was not
happy. I almost hadn’t recognized him—he was without his glasses and the
stubble was gone. “Is this how the head analyst for Goldfarb & Fitch
behaves around taken ladies?” he said, dripping contempt. He crowded Morris
further, who visibly withered. Several partygoers watched the interaction
intently, which didn’t seem called for.
“Mr. Baird,” I heard August’s calming
voice before I saw him. “It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise,” he replied, turning to
August, letting his eyes graze over me as he did.
They were standing side by side in
identical tuxes and though I’d never thought it possible to consider another
man handsome in August’s presence, in that moment, Danny eclipsed him
completely. He was beyond dashing, and with a chin and features like that, I
thought that he should never wear scruff again. His shoulders were broad but
not bulky, and he was noticeably taller than August. He looked powerful and
confident—indestructible.
Wait, why did August address him as Mr.
Baird?
“Morris, why don’t you join Mr. Fitch at
the tapas table? I hear they’re delicious,” August commanded. Morris was flush
as a beet and slunk away.
August smiled, moving towards me,
looping an arm around my waist. “Mr. Baird, let me introduce my companion, Ms.
Gabrielle Valentine.”
Daniel’s eyes flickered at the
introduction. “We’ve met,” he clipped.
“You look beautiful, as always, Ms.
Valentine,” he said slowly, meaningfully, staring at me intensely and extended
his open hand. Too many seconds passed until August nudge me and I placed my
hand in Danny’s. His hand was large and warm, and I am ashamed to say that even
though I’d believed the gesture was outdated, I truly enjoyed the warmth and
moisture of his lips as they pressed into my skin, his deep green eyes looking
up at me through dark lashes, never breaking away. Morris should take notes.
I felt a whisper of an inhaled breath
against my skin and his thumb brush smoothly across the sensitive skin above my
knuckles. His lips broke away slowly, and he lowered my hand like it was made
of glass. My hand twitched involuntarily, squeezing his just before he let go.
No one noticed but us. I offered him a sheepish expression in apology, but
something flashed in Danny’s eyes, a glimmer of something close to…hope? I
had to be mistaken.
I felt like time was standing still, the
silence unnerving, so I spoke.
“Thank you. You look nice this evening,
Danny,” I understated by a mile, and I felt August’s arm stiffen around me. I
tore my eyes away and finally noticed Blondie was now at his side in a beaded
coral gown and white fur stole. A few tuxedoed men stood around them. Her eyes,
and a few others, were widened at my use of his moniker.
Blondie cleared her throat delicately
and extended her hand. “August.”
“Ms. Hearst.” He kissed her hand and
then smiled warmly.
“Kate, please,” she permitted.
August smiled. “It’s an honor, Kate. I
believe dinner is ready. Shall we?” August extended an arm out inviting them to
pass.
“Yes, Daniel, shall we?” Kate
said pointedly, looping her arm through his; his stony expression quickly
returning.
“We’re right behind you,” August assured
them, as they passed with entourage in tow. I stepped to follow, but August
spun us towards the entry door and whisked me out and around the corner until
we stopped near the elevators.
“What’s going on, August?” I asked,
confused.
“Bree,” he started and peered at me
curiously. “How do you know Mr. Baird?”
“I met him at the restaurant last night
and today at lunch. He sat at my table,” I answered honestly. He looked at me
for a moment and then nodded.
“Why did you call him Danny?” he
probed, tilting his head.
“That’s his name, isn’t it? It’s what
Mr. Finch called him last night,” I explained. “Why are you calling him Mr. Baird?”
August sighed. “Bree, Mr. Baird is CEO
of BarclayBaird. Actually, Daniel Baird is BarclayBaird. His mother’s a
Barclay and his father’s a Baird. His blood is probably the original color
swatch for blue. I’m telling you this
because BarclayBaird is the company that is somewhat hostilely taking us over.”
He’d said it calmly, but my mouth gaped open.
August smiled bleakly, absently
scratching the back of his neck. “Did Mr. Fitch really call him Danny?”
“Yes,” I recalled. “But Danny didn’t
seem to mind.”
“I’m sure he didn’t,” August murmured,
and I was taken aback. August wasn’t sarcastic. “Apparently, last night Mr.
Baird invited Mr. Fitch and the entire board out for dinner and drinks—a bars’
worth. Mr. Finch ended up missing every meeting today, but Mr. Baird was
somehow there and ran the meetings alone. It was an embarrassment.”
“That’s because he didn’t drink,” I
shook my head. “He was pretending to drink. It was just water.”
He looked startled. “How do you know
this?” he quizzed.
“He told me,” I shrugged. August stared
at me then frowned.
“He’s more cunning than I was made to
understand. Mr. Fitch drinks, but he knew better than to go overboard last
night. What else did you talk about?” August probed, and I clapped my hand over
my mouth.
“I told him Mr. Fitch was a drunk!” I
exclaimed. “And I made a comment about them drinking while you were saving the
ship.”
August took that revelation in stride.
“Mr. Baird offered me Chairman of the U.S. holdings today. He has to leave
someone in charge here once he leaves for London tomorrow to head
International. He found me after lunch, and that’s why I was late to the room
this evening,” he mused vacantly, staring at the wall behind me.
“My gosh. Did you take it? Wait, doesn’t
that mean…?”
“That Mr. Finch gets fired? Yes,” he
answered, seriously. “I told him I needed to think about it. It feels like a
stab in the back to Mr. Finch. I certainly wasn’t angling for it, but he’ll
probably think that, and my schedule is hectic enough as it is. I wouldn’t have
any time for family.”
I smiled knowing whom he meant by
family—then frowned.
“I owe you an apology. I only spoke
freely because I thought he was a Fitch guy. I asked him if you worked together
and he said yes. Do you think what I said was what made him decide to fire him?
I sort of implied his excessive drinking was, well, commonplace,” I confessed
guiltily.
“I’ll be frank. You’re an outsider with
no agenda. He probably trusted your opinion to a degree. But Mr. Baird doesn’t
seem to trust anyone. The offer he made me may be a test of my Fitch loyalty.
He’s completely unreadable,” he said, mildly frustrated, looking back in the
direction of the party.
I nodded in agreement and then felt my
phone buzzing in my clutch. I told August I’d meet him back at the dinner table.
I opened the text from Jill.
J: How’s it going, chica?
G: I think I’m in Bizarro World. What
are you guys doing?
J: Heading to dinner. The kid wants
calamari!
I laughed at my son’s strange appetite.
J: Hold on…special message coming.
J: Mommy!
G: Hello! I miss you so, so much!
I wondered how much Jill was helping him
with texting.
J: I miss u too,
J: I’m sad ur away. Please come back to
me soon.
I guess she was transcribing for him. My
heart broke a little.
G: It won’t be long and I’m always with
you in your heart. Have a good night, my love. xoxo
J: I love you, too.
J: Have
fun with your little charade. Wink. Nite-nite sexy mama.
I snorted. That must be Jill again.
“Who was that?” I jumped out of my skin
and bumped in to something solid right behind me and then leaped away, the
train of my gown swishing around me as I faced a very suspicious Daniel.
“Jesus
Christ, how do you do that?” I
gasped, clutching my chest.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he
replied firmly, folding his arms.
“Are you stalking me?” I peered at him.
He peered back. “Was it another man?”
He said it like, ‘you naughty girl’, and then there was that glimmer
in his eye again.
“I’m feeling very stalked right now.” I
shook my head and tried to walk to past him, but he blocked me.
“Excuse me,” I said indignantly.
“You’re not excused.”
“That’s not up to you,” I countered.
“Oh, I think it is,” he replied
confidently and his lip twitched upward, but he resisted the smile.
“No. It isn’t, and I don’t like being
deceived,” I challenged, lifting a brow. He unfolded his arms, letting them
rest at his sides.
“I didn’t deceive you.” He arched one
brow back. “You perceived.”
“And you did nothing to stop it. That is
called deception.”
“Is it?” he replied, his eyes searching
mine like he knew I thought differently.
“The distinction is obvious,” I
retorted, eluding a judgment just shy of an edict. August and I were currently
perpetrating a deception much bigger than his, but he couldn’t know that.
“I am not a man of many words,” Daniel
replied laconically, in the tone of one who doesn’t explain himself to anyone
and didn’t intend to start tonight.
“More the ‘speak softly, and carry a big stick’ type? The only reason you
talked to me was to use me. You were just fishing for intel,” I accused but
gulped down hard admitting my words were etched into the club that he’d used to
swat down Mr. Fitch.
It looked like his patience had snapped.
I may have said too much, but the self-doubt he’d created in me triggered my
defenses.
“That’s not why I talked to you,” he explained
finally. I narrowed my eyes.
“Then why did you?”
He just stared at me for a while. I
don’t know what was running through his mind—a lot of things it seemed—but most
of all it looked like he was deciding something. And after moments of
consideration, I watched resolve form in his tightened jaw.
“We should be friends,” he said in
decision, not offer—but that’s not what surprised me.
“Friends?”
I repeated back dumbly. Then I thought of his cohort with the ring on his
finger handing out his number to help “shave her legs”, and the unsurprised
look on Daniel’s face, the compliment about my appearance, the slow kiss to my
hand. I realized this banter he’d suddenly decided to engage me in could be
interpreted as a caveman form of flirtation. Men like this always had women on
the side…I was appalled.
“I don’t believe I’m the type of ‘friend’ you’re looking for,” I
replied tartly, trying to pass him again, but he captured my wrist.
“Just friends.” He bit out each word, as
if he disliked the taste of them, and slowly raised his eyes to mine. He wore
the same look as Ian that first day at lunch when he asked me not to leave. I
still wasn’t convinced, but pragmatism tipped the scales. I needed to play
along, for August’s sake.
I exhaled.
“Just friends,” I repeated firmly,
drilling it into his eyes.
“Excellent,” Daniel said satisfactorily,
releasing me. I clasped my hand around the wrist he’d released, not because it
hurt, because it had stirred something. My face flushed.
“And next time you want my attention,
call me by name,” I instructed.
He wasn’t insulted. “Accept my apology.
It’s not my habit to touch a lady who doesn’t want to be touched.”
Needing to get away, I nodded. I began
walking off and he took one stride and caught my ear.
“But
I wouldn’t waste one morsel, either,” he whispered to me. I watched him
stride forward, disappearing through the doors, my heart pounding in my chest.
Author Bio:
Nell E. S. Douglas has possessed a deep, abiding love for written words since childhood. The transition from reader, to writer, was a natural one. Her first stories, penned on the lined pages of class notebooks, were inspired by her mother’s poetry and epic tales of travel and a professorial inquisitiveness inherited from her father. Following college in Florida, Nell exited the world of pure imagination and entered the one of business, successfully establishing a career in sales, and developing a cup-a-day habit (of coffee). Today, Nell writes during the spaces in-between domestic goddessing and contributing as a partner in a thriving small business. Nell resides in Florida, with her husband and their children, passing on the traditions of her mother and sinking her feet in the sand whenever possible.
Her favorite books are Pride and Prejudice, Outlander, and To Kill a Mockingbird. Her favorite movies are Gladiator, The Outsiders, anything by Scorsese, and Bridesmaids.
She is a member of Women’s Fiction Writers Association and is passionately involved in several charities.
Contact: author@nelldouglas.com
Social media
Twitter: @nellesdouglas
Instagram: @nellesdouglas
Facebook: Nell E. S. Douglas
Web: nelldouglas.com/
