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About the author:
Carrie Lomax grew up in the Midwest before moving to New York City for 15 years. She lives in Maryland with two budding readers and her real-life romantic hero.
What inspired you to write your book?
This began life as a Christmas-themed rom-com – but it quickly became a more complex story. I like a lot of humor and a lot of heart in my stories, so that's what you'll find!
Here is a short sample from the book:
Carrie Lomax grew up in the Midwest before moving to New York City for 15 years. She lives in Maryland with two budding readers and her real-life romantic hero.Being within ten yards of Marc De Luna always made Alyssa feel like she was drowning in lava. Hot didn’t begin to describe it. Just seeing him burned away nerve endings. Faded jeans hung low on his narrow hips. The pale blue T-shirt clung to his pectoral muscles and broad shoulders, loose around his body where his waist narrowed. Marc’s thick dark hair was just shaggy enough to make her want to run her hands through it. If he ever looked her way, she’d probably fall into the trash can. She was that suave. And if he spoke to her? She’d swoon and give herself a concussion. She yanked the lid of her parents’ can open, tossed in the bag of paper recycling, and gently closed it. There was no point in trying to attract Marc’s attention. For starters, he was the last person she wanted to be around at this exact moment. Ever since her parents had moved to Verona Harbor, Florida, when she was in high school, Alyssa had watched him from afar. He’d been in college then. If he’d gotten as far as declaring a major, it would’ve been a degree in seducing sorority girls. Despite this, Alyssa still remembered every single syllable he had ever spoken to her. She glanced up. His intense amber gaze pinned her where she stood. “Alyssa. I wondered if you were coming home for the holidays.” He dropped the lid to the garbage can and shifted his weight onto one foot. “You did? I mean, of course. I always come back for Christmas.” She felt faint. What fresh hell was this speaking words business? If she did fall over she’d blame it on the balmy weather. Marc never spoke to her, except to tease. “You didn’t last year.” “I can’t believe you noticed,” Alyssa blurted. She’d been in Connecticut with Zach’s family. “I’ve always noticed,” he replied with a half-grin that hit her like a tractor-trailer. “I hear we’re coming over for dinner later.” “You are? I mean, yes. Right. For dinner.” Her voice sounded better, but her words had never sounded so stupid. Her mother hadn’t specified which neighbors. Theirs was a social block, and she could’ve meant anyone ten houses up or down either side of the street. It hadn’t occurred to Alyssa to clarify who was coming over. “See you later,” Marc said casually. Alyssa stumbled into her house, where she caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. Gray smudges lurked beneath her eyes from lack of sleep, her stringy, tangled hair shot from her head in crazy angles, and she still wore the wrinkled, stained black shirt she’d had on since leaving her apartment. Not to mention she hadn’t seen a ray of sunlight in about a year. “Mom! When are the De Lunas coming over for dinner?” So, what? He talks to you and suddenly you’re salivating? Also: Shut up, Inner Critic. Catherine stepped out of the kitchen. “Half an hour or so. Why don’t you clean up a little before our guests arrive? Janelle, would you help me with the avocado rolls?” Alyssa squinted at her mother. Could she be…up to something?