BOOK #1 in the Caught Up In Love series
(Romantic Women’s Fiction / New Adult)
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An unforgettable debut
in romantic women’s fiction, Caught Up in RAINE captures the struggle of a
woman who must reconcile guilt from her past with the promise of a future as
her life intersects with a much younger man who offers her a second chance to
get “caught up” in love on her road to redemption.
Two Hearts. One
soul-shattering decision. 40s romance writer plagued by loss comes to rescue of
troubled 20s male cover model.
“DON’T JUDGE A BOOK BY
ITS COVER MODEL”
Forty-two and widowed,
romance writer Jillian Grant believes hospitals equal death. Plagued by loss
and convinced more is imminent when her aunt ends up in critical condition
after heart surgery; she has come to equate the absence of pain with happiness.
When she spots a hot, young landscaper working on the hospital grounds with an
eerie resemblance to the male lead in her next novel, she convinces him to pose
as her cover model.
Working multiple jobs
to put himself through college, twenty-four-year-old Raine MacDonald is no
stranger to loss. Behind his handsome face and rockin’ body lies family tragedy
and agonizing secrets. When circumstances put him back in the path of his
abusive father, fate delivers Jillian as his unwitting savior. Thing is, when
he thinks of her, his thoughts are far from platonic.
Despite their age difference, Jillian and Raine discover they’re
more alike than they could ever imagine. But torn between facing her own fears
and grasping a chance at happiness, Jillian makes a soul-shattering decision
that threatens to blow their world apart.
∞
EXCERPT:
My heart lifts and my shoulders relax the moment I step outside
and the sun hits the crown of my head. The click-clack of my high-heeled
sandals across the parking lot marks the distance between me and this
godforsaken place. After a silent prayer for Vera, I switch mental gears and
find my escape.
Drew, the male lead in
my novel who’s loosely based on my real-life Drew, slips into my head the
moment I sit behind the wheel. He’s particularly loud today, begging me to
write some hot scenes with Becca.
Ah, to be young and
brimming with hormones.
I smile and flip on
the air-conditioning. “Down, boy. You’ll need to wait until I get home.” I
picture him scowling at me with his muscled arms crossed.
One glance in the
rearview mirror tells me I need some major construction on my face. Thank God
for waterproof mascara. Kitty missed my mini-breakdown before she arrived. No
wonder she kept checking to see if I was okay. I look like total crap.
I pull out my compact
and smooth my face with mineral powder, dab on some lipstick, and feather on a
subtle layer of blush. Makeup always cures what ails me to some degree. “Look
good, feel good,” Aunt Vera always says.
Rather than heading
out the front entrance, I turn onto the long, winding drive toward the
east-side exit. A chunky dump truck emblazoned with Petrillo’s Landscape Design
blocks my way. Saplings with puffy treetops are visible over the side.
Seriously? Swearing
under my breath, I calculate my chances of squeezing my SUV past the truck and
arrive at an unwanted answer. So I shove the car in neutral, set the brake, and
get out. I stalk around the oversized Tonka toy to where four guys are digging
various parts of a new landscape bed.
My eye gravitates to
one in particular. Oh. My. God. Above a pair of dirt-encrusted jeans, his
broad, sun-kissed shoulders glimmer in the sunlight. A landscape of ripples
contract along his back and arms as he works. His tawny-blond hair is drawn
back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck.
I force my slack jaw
back into place. “Excuse me.”
Four heads turn at
once, and when the blond turns, my breath sucks in fast.
Drew. He looks like
Drew—at least in my head and from what I remember. Narrow waist, hard, and
lean. Unlike the rest of guys with shovels, he hasn’t used his body as a living
canvas for self-expression. He has no ink. But I only wonder why for about half
a second. My brain is too busy superimposing Drew as I fight not to gape.
“Um, can someone pull
up the truck? I’m trying to get out,” I say, doing my best to be polite. I look
away to hide my blush.
An older, dark-haired
guy tosses a set of keys to the blond. “Yo. Catch.” By process of elimination,
he has to be the “Petrillo” named on the side of the truck. The other two men
are smaller Hispanic guys, and the blond doesn’t particularly strike me as a
“Petrillo.”
My heart races as the
blond trots over with the keys. He scoops up a white T-shirt lying in a mound
on the grass on his way over, and wipes his face. Giving me a crooked smile, he
heads to the driver’s side.
“Hey, sorry about
that. You’re the first person to head down this way all day.”
“This exit points me
closer to where I need to go. Sorry to be a pain.”
“No problem,” he says,
and climbs up into the cab. The timbre of his voice sends chills down my spine.
It’s Drew’s voice . . . or maybe just my overactive imagination.
He stares down at me
quizzically. “You good?”
I realize he’s waiting
for me. “Uh, yeah,” I say, waking up from my daydream haze and forcing myself
back into the SUV to back up.
Acrid black smoke
rises skyward from the truck’s vertical exhaust accompanied by the dull roar of
the engine as he drives past me, his profile catching my peripheral vision.
My brain
short-circuits as my sandal hits the gas pedal. How can I just leave?
The idea hits me like
a sledgehammer, and I jam on the brakes. The blond guy is on his way back to
where the other guys are planting trees when my mouth develops a mind of its
own.
“Excuse me,” I yell
impulsively through the open window.
He alters his
direction and comes over. Stooping down, he leans his hands on my open window.
“What’s up?”
His sudden proximity
heightens my heart rate. For a split second, I almost lose my nerve until I
look into his stunning blue eyes—Drew’s eyes. For a second, I’m back in the
summer of 1990, sitting behind the wheel of my dad’s Chrysler.
Drew drops his
backpack of schoolbooks onto his driveway, and leans into the open car window.
His eyes, blue like the summer sky, connect with mine. Tawny blond hair falls
down around his face. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty for the concert,” he says
and presses his lips to mine. Then he steps back, juts out his hips, and breaks
into an air guitar riff and the first line of “Wanted Dead or Alive.”
Giggling, I shift into
reverse. “Later, Bon Jovi. Love ya.”
“Love ya, too,” he
shouts back, scooping his books off the blacktop.
If I’d only known how
little time we had left, I would’ve done so many things differently, kissed him
a little longer . . . held onto him a little tighter.
I take a second to
compose myself and clear my throat. “Um, this may sound strange, but how would
you like to be on a book cover?”
His head jerks back
slightly, and his eyebrows fly up. “What?”
Undeterred, I give him
a sweet smile and repeat slowly, “Would you. Like to be. On a book cover?”
He chuckles. “I’m not
mentally deficient. I heard the question. I’m just not sure what you mean.”
I can’t help but stare
at his delicious full lips, wishing I were half my age. I take a deep breath
and prepare for his refusal. “You happen to resemble the male lead in a novel
I’m writing, and I haven’t had a book cover designed yet. I’m wondering if
you’d like to be on it.”
The corner of his
mouth tips up. “I think I’m flattered.”
I can’t suppress my
smile, secretly glad I fixed my face earlier.
“What would this
entail, exactly?” he asks.
“A two- to three-hour
photo shoot.” As if I haven’t been impulsive enough, I add, “Sometime this
week.”
He gives me a pointed look. “Clothed, right?”
I tilt my head, a
spark of hope flaring inside me. “Pretty much the way you’re dressed right now,
except with cleaner clothes.”
He looks down at his
pants and grins. Then his mouth turns into a frown. “Hmm. This week might be
tight.”
“Is that a yes?” My
heart picks up tempo.
Petrillo yells over,
“Yo! Stop flirting with the nice lady and get back to work, man.”
“Hey, I gotta go.”
“Wait.” I fumble in my
purse and pull out a business card. Without thinking, I thrust the card at him
and blurt, “I’ll pay you $300 in cash.”
His eyes light up.
“Really?” Then he glances at my card. “You’re on, Jillian Grant. By the way, I
would’ve done it for free.” Wearing a lopsided smile, he shoves the card in his
pocket and taps the side of the SUV with his hand. “I’ll text you.”
A thrill shoots
through me as he heads off, and then I remember. “Wait! What’s your name?”
He turns and calls,
“Raine. With an e.”
I smile. Raine with an
e. It suits him, almost better than Drew.
For the first time all day,
I feel alive.
REVIEW:
I really enjoy reading books by authors that are "new" to me. Caught Up In Raine is the first book the new Caught Up In Love series by L.G. O'Connor.
It is a wonderful heartwarming story that is powerful and full of emotion. I was thoroughly wrapped up in this story and didn't want to stop reading it until I was done.
Jillian Grant is a 42-year old New York Times best-selling author. She is visiting her sick aunt in the hospital when she sees Raine, whom she is enthralled with. He looks strikingly similar to Drew, the love of her life who passed away many years ago. Since the new book she is writing features Drew, Jillian asks Raine to be the cover model for the book.
Raine MacDonald is a 25-year old part-time landscaper and bartender who is also pursuing his college degree. He is attracted to Jillian and agrees to pose for her cover pictures. He also can use the money she has offered him.
Both characters have had their own traumas in the past that have molded them: Raine had lost his mother at a young age and his father is abusive. Jillian has had many family members, including her husband, pass away. She is always afraid of losing someone else.
Even though there is a big age difference and Jillian is not sure she should do it, she and Raine start a relationship. They help each other heal from their loss and life experiences.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book and I am very much looking forward to reading the next story in this series!!
AUTHOR BIO:
L.G. O’Connor is a member of the Romance Writers of America. A corporate
strategy and marketing executive for a Fortune 250 company, she writes adult
paranormal and contemporary romance. She is the author of the four-book,
one-novella urban fantasy / paranormal romance series The Angelorum Twelve
Chronicles. The third full length novel launches in 2016. In addition, she is
the author of the upcoming Romantic Women’s Fiction / New Adult Caught Up in
Love series. L.G. lives a life of adventure, navigating her way through dog
toys and soccer balls. When she’s feeling particularly brave, she enters the
kitchen . . .
Find & Follow L.G.
O’Connor Online:
Book site:
www.caughtupinraine.com
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