Rom-Com Collection (Part 2)
All I Ever Wanted
Fools Rush In
My One and Only
Just One of the Guys
Kristan
Higgins
www.millsandboon.co.uk
KRISTAN HIGGINS divides her time between home in Connecticut and summers on Cape Cod. She is the mother of two lovely kids, the wife of a brave firefighter, and a devoted Ben & Jerryâs fan. Previously a copywriter, Kristan began writing fiction when her children graced her life with simultaneous naps ⦠so much more satisfying than folding laundry. She holds a BA in English, which enables her to identify dangling participles and quote many great novels. She loves to connect with readers on her website www.kristanhiggins.com and her Facebook page www.facebook.com/KristanHigginsBooks
Hello!
I hope youâll enjoy All I Ever Wanted! I think like a lot of us, Callie feels that if she just does everything right, sheâll get the resultsâand the manâshe wants. She tries so hard, but life seems to have other plans. Her challenge now: get over the guy who doesnât want her, even though she thought they were pretty perfect together.
One of the things I love best about this book is how the hero and heroine meet. Weâve all had moments where weâve seen people at their worst, not to mention those moments in our own personal histories we wish we could erase! But Ian and Callie see something in each other that no one else does and, in some ways, thatâs the essence of a romance novel. It was awfully fun to write two characters with such different personalities, and I love the way Callie and Ian bump up against each other again and again. She wants to help him out so much! And he thinks heâs just fine on his own. But sometimes in life, what we want is not really what we need, donât you think?
As always, youâll find a quirky family (I especially like Noah), a great dog and a beautiful little town, this time in the form of Georgebury, Vermont. I visited the Northeast Kingdom part of the state last year, was especially fond of the Cabotâs Dairy tour, the rushing rivers and the faint smell of syrup that tinged the air.
Hope youâll have a lot of laughs and a few deeply satisfying tears with All I Ever Wanted. And of course, Iâd love to hear from you! Visit my website at www.kristanhiggins.com.
Happy reading!
Kristan
This book is dedicated with love and gratitude to
Carol Robinson, who has been my great friend since I was a just a little kid. Love you, Nana.
Thanks as always to Maria Carvainis, my brilliant agent, as well as to Keyren Gerlach, my wonderful editor, and everyone else at HQN for their overwhelming support and enthusiasm.
Many thanks to my incredibly nice vet, Sudesh Kumar, DVM, MS, PhD, for answering a hundred questions, and to Nick Schade, owner of Guillemot Kayaks and boat builder to the gods. Visit www.guillemot-kayaks.com for a peek at his breathtaking craftsmanship. For the use of their names, thanks to Annie, Jack and Seamus Doyle; Jody Bingham; Shaunee Cole; and my lovely friends, Hayley and Tess McIntyre. Adiaris Flores helped me with a few Spanish phrases ⦠gracias, sweetheart! Thanks also to Lane Garrison Gerard for inspiring Josephineâs somewhat dubious taste in music.
I have been blessed with the support and friendship of many fellow writers, and though I canât name them all, here are a few: Cindy Gerard, Susan Mallery, Deeanne Gist, Cathy Maxwell, Susan Andersen, Allison Kent, Sherry Thomas, and Monica McInerney. Thank you. Truly.
And lastly, all my love to my husband and kids. You three are everything to me.
AS THE MAN I LOVED approached my office, the image of a deer being hit by a truck came to mind. I was the deer, metaphorically speaking, and Mark Rousseau was the pickup truck of doom.
But hereâs the thing. The deer always freezes, as we all know, hence the expression like a deer caught in the headlights. The deer and I (Callie Grey, age thirty as of 9:34 this very morning) are well aware that the pickup truck is going to hit us. But we just stand there, waiting for the inevitable, whether itâs a pickup truck (in the deerâs case) or a man walking athletically toward me (in mine), perpetual smile in place, his brown hair carelessly curling, those gorgeous, dancing dark eyes. I waited, doe-eyed. It was all really too bad, because outside of Markâs influence, I was not at all a deer about to be run down. I was much more of an adorable, perky hedgehog or something.
âHey.â Mark grinned.
Bam! We have impact. The sunlight streamed through the windows of the old brick office building in which Mark and I worked, illuminating him so that he looked like something painted by Michelangelo. To make him even more appealing, he was wearing an old sweater vest his mom knitted for him years ago, shapeless and faded but something he just couldnât part with. A good son and a sex god.
It was as if there were two Callies ⦠the smarter, more sensible self (I pictured her as Michelle Obama), and the dopey, in love part ⦠Betty Boop. Would that Michelle could give Betty Boop a brisk slap, followed by some vigorous shaking. Alas, Betty just sat there, enthralled, as the First Lady snorted in disgust.