Christie Ridgway invites you to a special place of sun, sand and romance in her new series, Beach House No. 9. Enjoy this prequel novella and meet the people of Crescent Coveâ¦
Two miles of magic. Thatâs how Meg Alexander remembers her childhood home of Crescent Cove on the California coast. But Meg doesnât believe in magic anymoreânot since heartbreak made her leave at nineteen and kept her away for ten years.
Yet Meg canât say no when her sister asks her to temporarily step in as the coveâs property managerâand she canât deny her instant attraction to handsome guest Caleb McCall. He sparks a desire that Meg hasnât felt in a long time. But even as their incredible, incendiary kisses tempt her into a short-term fling, her head tells her to pull away.
Can Caleb convince her to give love a second chance?
Return to Crescent Cove in Beach House No. 9, Bungalow Nights and The Love Shack, coming soon from Christie Ridgway and Harlequin HQN.
Dear Reader,
I want to take you away! I have a special place for you to visit, with sun and sand and magic. Not the hocus-pocus kind of magic, but the kind of alchemy that occurs when two strangers meet and know instantly the moment is a game-changer. Their hearts beat faster and thereâs an exuberant lift in their bellies and even if they donât want to feel like this, they justâ¦do.
Three full-length romances are ahead, Beach House No. 9, Bungalow Nights and The Love Shack. But for now I hope youâll enjoy this first look at Crescent Cove as the sunshine breaks through the coastal fog to reveal a gem of a setting and a man and a woman who are about to uncover treasureâ¦in each other. Both Caleb McCall and Meg Alexander have fractures of the heart that only the act of committing to each other can fully mend. I hope youâll root for them and return for more Beach House No. 9 books.
Here comes the sun!
Christie Ridgway
This world, after all our science and sciences, is still a miracle: wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more, to whosoever will think of it.
âThomas Dekker, English writer and dramatist
Chapter One
Two miles of magic.
Trudging through soft sand, Meg Alexander remembered thatâs how sheâd thought of her childhood Neverland, Southern Californiaâs Crescent Cove. Even after ten years away, she recalled how lucky sheâd felt growing up here.
Megâs great-great-grandfather had purchased the land as a location to make silent movies such as The Courageous Castaways and Sweet Safari, and the tropical vegetation heâd trucked in for authenticity in 1919 continued to thrive at the cove today. The buff-colored bluffs rising up from the beach were made more colorful by the bright green fronds of date palm trees and the salmon and scarlet flowers of bougainvillea that nestled beside the native sagebrush. Closer to shore, floppy-leaved banana plants, chunky Mexican fan palms and colorful hibiscus shrubs surrounded the fifty eclectic cottages, most of which had been built during the 1920s through 1950s.
Each of the beach houses at Crescent Cove was different, their form-following whims now long forgotten. Their paint schemes were as varied as their shapes and sizes, though the colors selected blended well with the landscape of sand, earth and vivid flora. The single similarity was that in every one, windows peered oceanward.
Meg didnât dare look in that direction, herself.
Growing up, her mother had told Meg and her little sister, Skye, that merfolk lived in those waters off shore, protecting the cove with their supernatural powers. Growing up, Meg had believed in that, just as sheâd believed that sand dollars were the merpeopleâs currency and sea glass the discarded pieces from some mysterious merchildrenâs board game.
But Meg didnât believe in magic or mystery anymore.
âGood morning,â an elderly male voice said.
Startled, Meg looked up. âHey, Rex. Good morning, yourself.â Rex Monroe, ninety-some years young, was the only full-time resident at the cove other than Skye, who had managed the property since their parentsâ move to Provence, France. Yesterday, for the first time in a decade, Meg had met up with the nonagenarian as he walked along the sand. Like now, the clouds had been low and damp, the typical gloomy âMay Grayâ weather conditions. âGetting in your daily constitutional?â she asked.
Rex patted his belly, covered in a flannel shirt tucked into soft chinos. âItâs not just you ladies who have to watch your figures. Are you settling in okay?â
âOh, sure,â Meg said, waving a hand. It was actually weird being back in her childhood bedroom, ten years after leaving the cove at nineteen, but her sister had been invited to the out-of-town wedding of a former college roommate. How could Meg have refused to step in? Memorial Day weekend was the kick-off of the Crescent Cove summer season. Someone had to be on hand to pass out keys to the bungalows and handle minor crises.