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available Feb. 10, 2010 from
The Wild Rose Press



Sweetly Reviewed said: Ok, So I'm a softy
and I love a story that gets me a warm and mushy inside
and this one totally did it.
I LOVE Ms Master's ability to make me feel
the ups and downs along with the characters.
It makes for a really good read.







Morning, ladies!" Becca took a moment to inhale
the scent of fresh flowers permeating the air.

With a smile, Steffie waved as she talked on the phone.

Hitting a series of keys, Grace turned. "Hey, Becca."

Donica Laurent entered from the back of the shop.
"Good morning!"

The homey atmosphere in the shop always
unraveled Becca's wound nerves.
Walking to the counter, she reached into her handbag,
oversized to double as a briefcase to carry her art supplies.
Her presentation last night had gone well,
but she hoped this morning's would surpass it.

"If you have a minute, can you take a look
at these designs and let me know what you think?
I used them for my class project last night."

Grace laid a hand on her arm, her face alight.
"Did you wow them?"

With a grin, Becca pulled out her sketch pad.
"Not exactly. But Mr. Hunter said they were good."

Her brow furrowed, Donica stepped next to her.
"Who's Mr. Hunter?"

"A substitute teacher."
Her words came out in a sing-song tone.

Steffie clucked her tongue.
"Something about the way you say that
makes me think he's kinda cute."

Becca couldn't help but smile.
"Not kind of. Very."

At home last night, she found herself
sketching Mike Hunter.
His dark hair, tapering to the top of his collar,
made her want to run her fingers through its waves.
She wanted to remove his black
rectangular-framed glasses,
peer into his dark brown eyes
that sparkled when his gaze met hers.
Press her lips against his and
push his corduroy jacket from his shoulders.
Drawing his features gave her a sense
of intimacy, one she wanted to experience.

Hoping the women didn't notice,
Becca fanned the warmth from her neck.

Thank goodness they were too busy laughing.
Since she'd been hired at The Flower Basket,
the three co-owners had come to feel
like her sisters. Warm. Supportive.
On the days she had to bring Mom
to her doctor appointments,
all encouraged her not worry
about them, even though the shop
had attracted so much new business,
they sometimes put in sixteen hours.

Becca hoped to give something back.
Something worthwhile.