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📍 Noticed
Hot Mess Summer
by Melissa Foster
Sponsored
Synopsis
Who buys a cottage in a New England fishing village on a whim? A stressed-out, twice-divorced romance writer and single mother looking for a fresh start, that’s who. Despite what my besties say about my three-year dry spell, I’m not looking for a man. Or drama. Or sex. I’ve got enough ...
Who buys a cottage in a New England fishing village on a whim? A stressed-out, twice-divorced romance writer and single mother looking for a fresh start, that’s who. Despite what my besties say about my three-year dry spell, I’m not looking for a man. Or drama. Or sex. I’ve got enough on my plate with writer’s block and a daughter who refuses to grow up. Community. That’s what I need. Unfortunately, it seems the universe has other ideas. Either Chatemup, Massachusetts, has a serious shortage of single women, or I’ve become a hot mess magnet for the male species.
At least I’ve found one funny, good-hearted friend: fish peddler Declan Miller, my brainstorming adventure buddy who stirs my creative juices. I’m his Writer Girl. He’s my Dimple Dude. Just scruffy, granite-chested, deep-voiced, ex-military brawn who happens to be—oh, Nicole, what are you doing to yourself?—stoking a long-neglected fire without even trying.
A self-confessed hot mess, divorced single dad Declan is too old for relationship games. Not interested. Same here. So why do I keep thinking about him? Preferably naked. Because I’m a hot mess, too? At least he’s inspiring me to write. If only real life were like one of my novels. At least then I’d have a better idea of how this was going to end.
At least I’ve found one funny, good-hearted friend: fish peddler Declan Miller, my brainstorming adventure buddy who stirs my creative juices. I’m his Writer Girl. He’s my Dimple Dude. Just scruffy, granite-chested, deep-voiced, ex-military brawn who happens to be—oh, Nicole, what are you doing to yourself?—stoking a long-neglected fire without even trying.
A self-confessed hot mess, divorced single dad Declan is too old for relationship games. Not interested. Same here. So why do I keep thinking about him? Preferably naked. Because I’m a hot mess, too? At least he’s inspiring me to write. If only real life were like one of my novels. At least then I’d have a better idea of how this was going to end.
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