Hello lovelies! It gives me
great pleasure today to host Inés Saint and her new book, “Good Gracie”!
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end of this post to enter to win some exciting prizes like a print copy of her
featured book, “Good Gracie,” and a $5 Amazon Gift Card!! See below for more details. Also, come back daily to interact with Inés
and to increase your chances of winning!
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by! Wishing you lots of luck in this
fabulous giveaway!
Good Gracie
by Inés Saint
Pub. Date: 4/11/2017
Genre: Contemporary
Romance
Spinning Hills, Ohio, home of the third most haunted street in
the state, is the perfect place for three sisters to banish the unhappy
specters of their pasts—and to let romance cast its spell…
Gracie
Piper is good at being invisible, and she likes it that way. At just seventeen,
she took a very public stand against the boy who passed a revealing video of
her all over school. Ever since, she’s staked her life on staying out of the
limelight. But when she moves back to Spinning Hills, she comes face to face
with her painful past. In the same historic building Gracie’s boss has assigned
her to supervise renovating works the man who helped her find justice nine
years ago, and nearly lost his own career in the process. A man who suddenly
arouses feelings that make Gracie weak in the knees…
Josh Goodwin is sure he’s
seeing a ghost when he spots Gracie in the halls of his office building. Taking
her case was a professional risk that became all too personal when a bitter ex
accused him of getting involved with teenage Gracie. Seeing her again is
opening old wounds, and threatening brand-new ones—his campaign for County
Prosecutor won’t withstand a brand-new scandal. But there’s something about
sweet, gorgeous Gracie that brings out the crusader in him—and the thing he’ll
fight hardest for is her love…
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Chapter 1
“We won the contract for
the Daytona-Montgomery County courts Building, and we want you to be the lead workplace designer on
the project.”
The
words had been on a constant loop in Gracie’s head. The first half of the
sentence tugged her feelings one way and the second half pulled them in the
opposite direction. One tiny comma separated a nightmare and a dream. One small
word united them.
She’d
been working hard to land lead on a project of this magni- tude. She hoped to
own her own small workplace design business someday, and this would be an
important learning experience. It was a challenge that, when all else was
pushed aside, had both her left and right brain in a constant buzz of
excitement and anticipation. Using both her creativity and technical expertise
to optimize and har- monize workspace for eleven judges, the county prosecutor,
and all court employees across multiple divisions, each with its own purpose
and challenges. Functional, yet attractive and sustainable ideas that would
enhance the life, productivity, and culture of the workers came to her day and
night.
But
whenever her thoughts necessarily turned to the actual build- ing in front of
her, her stomach became heavy with dread. The coin- cidence involved defied
logic. The building was home to records of her case against one of the area’s
most prominent families—and to the man who’d been her champion.
The
man whose life she’d unwittingly changed forever. All for taking up her case
and her cause.
He
didn’t resent her for it. That much she was sure of. Josh Good- win had a fair
and just core, the depth of which she hadn’t fully appreciated and understood
at the time. There had been no room for anything but gratitude that someone
outside her family was fighting with and for her. But there was no way he could
remember the experience with anything but the same dread she felt. Not after
the way he’d been portrayed and everything he’d lost . . .
Tomorrow
she had no choice but to take on both the project and the memories. Tonight,
she’d take the first step on her own, with no one watching her.
Josh
Goodwin sat at his desk, reading through incident reports and files the
sheriff’s office had sent over, and making notes to re- quest additional
information before making decisions as to whether they’d file, dismiss, or
bargain.
A
fourteen-year-old had brought a gun to school and hidden it in his locker. The
file was short. Many questions arose and he made notes.
The
next file was thicker. A sixteen-year-old star athlete had been caught with
drugs in his car. He had a big-shot lawyer at Josh’s father’s firm. The lawyer
had filed a motion to have the case dismissed . . . which meant that dinner
with his parents’ later that week would be un- comfortable. It took discipline
not to close his eyes and shake his head when he read the particulars of the
case, but reserving judgment until he’d listened to all parties involved was
the fair route.
The
last file, an ongoing investigation, darkened his day. A well- known, local
businessman’s son was being investigated for murdering his stepmom. There was
evidence to suggest the boy’s father had put him up to it when he’d discovered
his wife was having an affair. Time and time again, jealousy and feelings of
betrayal enraged and darkened the human mind and heart, turning people into
monsters. The evidence against the father, Max Parker, was strong, but it was
circumstantial. Josh had taken it on because he had a special passion for cases
involving injustice to minors—those were the cases he’d
cut his teeth on.
He
leaned back, shut down his feelings, and thought about every- thing in each
file before making a few more notes. When he was done, he threw his sports coat
over his arm, locked up his office, and made his way down to the first-floor
lobby. He needed to decide where exactly he’d be holding his press conference
tomorrow.
When
he walked off the elevator, a motion to his right caught his attention. He
glanced over and caught sight of a figure taking off at a run. Security in the
building was tight enough, but the fact that someone was running down a hallway
at such a late hour was odd. Josh sighed and decided to follow.
When
he got to the short hallway, there was no one there. He walked slowly, taking
everything in. There were three doors and they were all shut, as they should
be. He peered into each window and tried the handles one by one. They were all
dark and they were all locked.
Only
one door remained: a supply closet at the end of the hall- way. Aware that his
dress shoes were clicking, Josh walked back to the elevator, slipped his shoes
off, and made his way quietly back down the hallway and to the closet again.
“I
know you’re there.” A muffled, female voice came from inside the closet a few
seconds later. “And I know you think I’m up to no good and that you have some
sort of moral responsibility to figure out what I’m up to, but I assure you I’m
here to work. Please just leave.”
Josh
rolled his eyes heavenward. Seriously? Only a teenager would ask an adult to
take her word for something and leave her alone. And yet the words had been
very adultlike. “I can’t leave until you show yourself and tell me exactly who
you are and what you’re doing here.”
“Can
we find a way for you to put your mind at ease that doesn’t involve me opening
the door?”
Josh
raked a hand through his hair. He’d been in plenty of un- usual situations. It
came with the job. But this—this was new. And absurd. It had to be a teen, and
maybe the teen was in trouble. “Why don’t you want to come out?”
“I’m
busy.”
“Are
you one of our courthouse ghosts?” he asked. Humor some- times did the trick
with kids.
Silence.
“Yes.”
It
was a pitiful and honest yes. Josh was silent for a moment, too. Whoever was
behind the door had something to hide, but he’d bet his career she wasn’t a
menace. Still, it was his duty to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.
Some leader he would be if he simply left. “Look, there’s no lock on this door.
Nothing has prevented me from opening it. I’ve been trying to give you a
chance, and I hope that shows you that you have nothing to fear from me. But
it’s my responsibility to open this door and find out what’s going on.”
The
door abruptly swung open and Josh instinctively moved to the side. He peered in
and went cold all over. All he could do was stare.
It
was a ghost.
As
much as she’d done to change her appearance, Gracie knew he instantly
recognized her. Everything about him registered shock. It was as if he was
frozen in place. She swallowed hard but was unable to get past the lump in her
throat. He looked exactly the way she re- membered him—spiky and mussed-up
brown hair, sparkling dark eyes, and a handsome face. Tall. An athletic build
that filled out his fitted suit. He looked the same, but her reaction was new.
A jolt of heat infused her from head to toe the instant she looked at him.
Embarrassment, most likely.
She
hesitated before saying, “Hello, Mr. Goodwin.” The title Mr. sounded strange to
her ears. He looked almost her age, though she knew he was a little over seven
years older.
He’d
been twenty-four and she’d been seventeen when they’d first met nine years ago.
He, fresh out of law school. She, a high school senior.
“Gracie
Piper.”
She
pushed her glasses up and avoided his eyes. “Actually, I go by Grace Dearborn
now.” It was imperative they got that straight.
She
forced herself to glance at him again. He’d straightened, but he was still
staring. “What are you doing hiding in a closet?” he finally asked.
Something
in her bristled. Not at him but at herself. She hadn’t been prepared to see
him, but it wouldn’t do to start off on unequal footing. She was twenty-six.
She was a professional. And she’d been caught hiding in a closet.
Pushing
past her reluctance to speak, she took a quick, deep breath and gathered her
wits to start afresh. “Surely you’re aware of the extensive remodeling project
that will begin here in three months? The firm I work for, Midwest Workplace
Design, is in charge, and I’m the lead workplace designer.” She turned and
pretended to study the closet. “I’m—I’m checking everything out. Including the
closets.” “Workplace designer, huh,” he stated with a short nod. “Creative yet
logical. It fits. I wondered how you’d find something that utilized all your
talents.” Not yet ready to face Josh’s intrinsic kindness, she merely shrugged
a little. “And you’ve been checking out the supply closet this entire time?” he
continued.
When
she chanced another glance at him, he was wearing a play- ful smile. Another
thunderbolt hit her, and this time it left her breath- less. That was new, too.
And it hadn’t been embarrassment. Fear, maybe? No, she could never fear Josh. .
. .
She
straightened her shoulders, hoping to look confident. “There’s a lot to
consider. People don’t want to waste valuable time when they come in here looking
for supplies. Organization should be logical. The most-often-used necessities
should be easiest to both find and access, preferably at eye level . . .” she
went on, repeating things she’d heard a closet organizer they worked with say,
before finally trailing off and clearing her throat.
Everything
she was feeling was awareness, she admitted with a sinking feeling. Something
she hadn’t felt in years but she remem- bered well. For her, it would forever
be entwined with deep, devas- tating feelings of betrayal and distrust. Their
eyes met and she took a step back. He must’ve noted it because his smile
faltered and he took a step back, too. “You can come out, Gracie.”
Correcting
him once more didn’t feel as important as it usually did. Gracie sounded okay coming
from him. The way it still sounded good coming from family. Josh Goodwin had
been honorable. One of the few men she knew she could trust, even though she
hadn’t seen him in years. Maybe that was what her awareness was about. Eternal
feelings of gratitude. Plus, seeing him again was unsettling, though not
unexpected. But as her internal reasoning rambled on, her still-sinking stomach
told her that wasn’t all there was to it.
It
was all too much for her to try to figure out right there and then. She stepped
out and caught the quick, up-and-down glance he gave her, and it made her take
stock of what she looked like. Pale blond hair done up in a stylish yet
no-nonsense bun. Olive pencil skirt. Low-heeled, knee-high boots. Off-white,
fashionably bulky sweater. Peach-colored frames on her trendy glasses. Nude
makeup. Fashion- able enough to look like she could fit the creative role she
played, but nondescript enough to fade away and not draw attention.
“Who
are you hiding from, Gracie?” he asked, looking straight into her eyes. There
was warmth there. And she couldn’t handle it.
“I’m
hiding from disruptions,” she answered and began walking down the hallway ahead
of him, a mistake that left her feeling awkward and exposed. “I’m taking
everything in. Silence and stillness is a must. Tomorrow my team and I will
start observing everyone at work and begin asking questions so we can
incorporate everyone’s needs into the design. Tonight, I needed to be alone.”
She came to a stop at the end of the hallway and cast him a quick,
over-the-shoulder glance, to see if he’d caught the small hint. It was obvious
he had, but there was now pity in his eyes. Her cheeks heated up.
Josh
set down his briefcase while he shrugged into his light coat. She was
dismissing him and it was just as well. They were both un- comfortable.
Gracie,
on the eve of his announcement. It was a worst-case sce- nario. The case that
had defined his career had also almost derailed it, thanks to the lies and
vitriol of both the people Gracie had been up against and the important people
Josh had defied: a group he had once belonged to. It always brought up mixed
feelings. Gratitude that he’d been saved from a meaningless life but also the
sickening feel- ing that justice and honesty didn’t always win.
When
Gracie turned to him, he was again taken aback by how much she’d changed—or
rather, how much her experience must’ve changed her. I’m hiding from
disruptions . . .
DIY Romance
Inés Saint was born in Zaragoza,
Spain. She’s bilingual and bicultural and has spent the last ten years raising
her fun, inspiring little boys and sharing her life with the man of her dreams,
who also happens to be her best friend and biggest cheerleader. Her greatest
joys are spending quality time with family and close friends.
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