Kiss Me at Last by HOLLY CORTELYOU

What’s better than wine, chocolate and a little renovation magic? A sweet and sexy matchup between Sean McMallory, a handsome, hammer-swinging contractor, and Melinda York, a flirty and stubborn champagne bar owner who’s in a remodel pickle! Kiss Me at Last brings you back to the charming mountain community of Wescott Springs, Colorado in a contemporary, small town romance that’s sweet with a kiss of heat!

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About the author:

Holly Cortelyou pens sweet and spicy small town, contemporary romances that just may have a kiss of magic or a twist mystery. 
On any given day, she’s likely sipping coffee and procrastinating on Facebook or organizing a closet. Holly’s living her own Happily Ever After with an uber-handy, broad-shouldered and delicious husband, a sweet silver lab and a fluffball kitty in sun-kissed Southern Oregon. 
She has hazel eyes, a goofy sense of humor and all the rest is subject to change without notice.

What inspired you to write your book?

Inspiration for Kiss Me at Last came in the form of a sisters weekend in Denver one June. We hit some amazing wine and champagne bars in Larimer Square. I was smitten…and presto — I had to create a heroine with an amazing wine and champagne bar in my make-believe town of Wescott Springs just outside of Vail, CO.

Here is a short sample from the book:

With a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth, Sean had been waiting for an eruption for the last ten minutes. 
It was day three of construction, and Melinda schlepped into the wine bar at eight in a slouchy gray sweater, faded jeans, and nondescript running shoes. Her eyes were bleary, and she cradled her coffee concoction like it was the crown jewel in the queen's tiara. She'd winced every time his hammer drove home a nail. 
Sean grinned. Hangover, he supposed, and he pounded a few extra nails for good measure as she scuttled into her office. That ought to fix her little red wagon, Miss High and Mighty and her sexy British accent. Not that he'd noticed. He glanced toward her office door, and there was Melinda, staring at him with a stony gaze through half-slitted eyes. 
"Good morning, Ms. York." He fiddled with the chuck on the drill and idly revved it a few times for some bonus noise. "Sun's shining, and it's beautiful out." 
"Is there anything quiet you can do for a while?" Her tone was pained. 
"Not feeling well?" 
"I'm fine, but I have phone calls to make to wine distributors and a little peace and quiet would be divine." 
"Go back to your coffee shop for those calls. Unless you want me to take a break already? That will slow me down." 
Melinda glared. "I'm trying to get some work done, too." 
"Well, ma'am. This is a construction zone, so there's going to be noise. We're not slapping on some paint and hanging a few light fixtures. We're adding beams, ripping out floors. What exactly were you expecting? Should I bring a bowl of potpourri or something?" 
"That might help." Her tone was drenched in syrup. "Or do you have a silencer for that drill?"