Reader I'm happy to be sharing one of my Favorite Toni Blake's books "Letter's to a Secret Love". This book wrapped it way around my heart and didn't let go. I haven't read this book in about a year and every time I look at the cover the memories of the story flood back as if I just read it. If you haven't gotten your hands or fix of Toni Blake I would highly recommending starting with this incredibly heart wrenching read.
Letters To A Secret Lover
Toni Blake
AVON
Contemporary Romance
Book Description:
The last thing she needs right now is a man
Lindsey Brooks had it all—an awesome job doling out advice to the lovelorn, a fabulous high-rise apartment, and a to-die-for fiance. But then she got dumped—wearing nothing but a Kiss the Cook apron—and desperate to escape, she retreats to a tiny Montana town to reclaim a family treasure. She never dreamed anyone would try to stop her – or that he’d be sexy as sin.
Too bad she finds such a hot one …
Rob Colter isn’t into relationships—but Lindsey sees Rob as the perfect guy to help her “get back on the horse.” The sex horse, that is. Unfortunately, he comes complete with a mysterious past, which gets even more mysterious when she finds his passionate letters to another woman – whose name happens to be tattooed on his chest.
And too bad he has so many secrets …
Now Rob’s dangerous past is about to catch up with them both. And if that’s not horrible enough, Lindsey is falling for him – hard. For a girl who usually has all the answers, Lindsey is up to her neck in trouble.
Letters to a Secret Lover ~ Selected Excerpt
To Lindsey’s surprise, the Lazy Elk was fairly buzzing when she stepped inside. Billiard balls clacked together, U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” echoed from a jukebox, and something sizzled on a griddle she couldn’t see – reminding her again that she was hungry. A heavyset woman behind the bar yelled, “Add another burger to that last order, Jimmy,” and a young man’s voice echoed, “Got it,” in reply through the window behind her.
Of course, the place wasn’t buzzing so much that people didn’t stop to ogle the newcomer. She supposed Moose Falls didn’t get a lot of strangers on an off-season Tuesday night.
Glancing about, she made contact with the nearest set of eyes on her – which happened to belong to an older, grizzled-looking fellow – and lifted her hand in a small wave. “Hi.”
He nodded succinctly, then took a swig from his beer bottle.
All the stools at the bar stood empty, so she slid up onto one, pleased when the female bartender who’d just called out the burger order stopped wiping down the wood with a damp cloth and met her gaze with a friendly smile. “What can I get you?”
“Um, how about a cosmopolitan?”
The woman’s hazel eyes lit up as brightly as if someone had just given her a gift. “Are you serious?”
Lindsey wasn’t sure how to interpret the response. “Well, yeah – but if you don’t … make those or whatever, I can pick something else.”
The bartender held up her hands in a stop motion. “No – I can make it. I’m dying to make it.”
“Huh?”
“You’re the first person to order a real drink in here in ages. You know, something with more than two ingredients. I love mixing fun drinks, but I spend most of my time serving up beer – or if someone is feeling really crazy, maybe a rum and Coke. So you’re my dream come true.”
Lindsey raised her eyebrows, pleased that someone somewhere in the world was actually glad to see her. “Well, that’s great. Since my life hasn’t exactly been very dreamy lately – more like a nightmare, in fact.”
The bartender lowered her chin inquisitively. “Wait a minute. Are you about to tell me your troubles? Because if you are, you’re my double dream come true. I’ve been tending this bar for nearly five years and no one ever tells me their troubles. So if I get that and a real drink to mix … wow – you’re making my night.”
Lindsey hadn’t really planned to tell the woman her troubles, but she seemed nice, and so delighted by the prospect that she figured what the hell. Alcohol tended to give her loose lips anyway. “All right,” she replied. “A worldful of troubles coming up. But first, I have to know.” She motioned vaguely over her shoulder toward the road outside. “What the hell is that thing in the roundabout?”
The woman flipped long auburn hair over her shoulder. “Oh, the bear. Did he scare you?”
“Only out of my wits. I nearly wrecked the car.”
The bartender shrugged as she reached for a shaker. “Yeah, it’s a hazard, even for those of us who live here. Especially if you’ve had a few.”
“Well, if it’s such a hazard, why is it there?”
“Eleanor’s ex-husband – she owns the Grizzly Inn next door – made it, for the inn. But turned out it was too big for the little rock garden out front. So the town council voted to put it in the roundabout so it wouldn’t go to waste. Since the roundabout was empty except for a flower garden and people kept driving through it. And since it is a perfectly good bear.”
Lindsey tilted her head. “No one thought about putting, say, a moose there? Given that this is Moose Falls?”
“We did. But no one had a big wooden moose lying around, or the money to get one, so the bear got the job.”
Lindsey leaned closer over the bar. “So, the Grizzly Inn – is it nice?”
“Nice enough. Not new or anything – but Eleanor remodeled a couple years back,” the bartender replied as she added lime juice to her concoction. “It ain’t the Hyatt, but it’s tidy, and woodsy.”
Tidy. And woodsy. Hmm. It would have to do. “I guess it’s my new home for a while.”
The bartender raised curious eyebrows, clearly intrigued. “She’ll be thrilled – she usually only gets weekend guests, and not usually for another few weeks – late May or June. Now, let’s get to those troubles and what on earth a jet-setty girl like you is doing in Moose Falls. I’m Carla, by the way.”
“Lindsey.” She reached out and they clasped hands lightly across the bar. “And officially retired from the jet set, I’m afraid.”
Carla’s head tilted in a kindly fashion even as she shook Lindsey’s drink. “Tell me all about it.”
Okay, here went nothing. “Well, have you ever heard of the advice column, Love Letters? It’s syndicated in over a hundred newspapers and there’s an accompanying blog online.”
As Carla poured Lindsey’s cosmo into a martini glass and placed it on a napkin before her, she appeared to be turning it over in her head. “The one where people write in with their problems about love or sex or whatever’s wrong in their relationship?”
Lindsey nodded, then took the first sip of her drink. Ah, that hit the spot. “That’s the one,” she said. “I’m Lindsey Brooks, the advice columnist.”
Carla’s jaw dropped and her eyes went as big and round as … well, two martini glasses. “Shut. Up. You’re kidding me! You’re her? The Love Letters girl?”
“In the flesh,” she answered with a wry smile.
“So are you … a therapist or something? Because if you are, I feel pretty dumb asking you to tell me your problems.”
But Lindsey shook her head. “Nope. I took a few psychology courses in college, but I’m mainly just a journalist who was … in love with love, I guess. It came across in my early work. No matter what story I covered – house fire, burglary, charity event – I always seemed to focus on the relationships of the people involved, making it part of the story even when it wasn’t. And rather than just fire me, my boss suggested I try my hand at a modern-day advice column, and a new career was born.”
Her momentary cheer faded, however, as she explained that she’d just voluntarily stepped down from writing Love Letters. “Because even though my bosses stood behind me after what happened with Garrett, I simply don’t feel I can go on with it anymore. Or my blog. Because how does a woman whose disastrous love life is front page news advise people on theirs? I’d be a laughing stock. No, wait, I’m already a laughing stock. So I’d be a laughing stock who was just inviting people to laugh even harder.”
“Wait. Stop,” Carla said. “Who’s Garrett? And what’s the disaster? And why are you a laughing stock?”
Okay, so she’d gotten ahead of herself. Maybe that was a sign that she really needed to get this off her chest. So, taking a long sip of her cosmo, Lindsey told Carla all about her broken engagement and naked seduction. When she got to the part about the photo, Carla responded with the appropriate gasp and scowl of horror.
“The only good news in the whole thing,” she went on, “is that – thank God for small favors – they blurred my breast in the photo. Which you can now even find on the National Inquirer’s website, and The Globe’s, too.” She wasn’t that famous, but a person didn’t have to be much of a celebrity for a picture like that to seem newsworthy, given the pure entertainment value.
“So what happened next?” Carla asked, reaching for some peanuts from a bowl on the bar.
Lindsey ate a few, too – then washed them down with a tasty sip of cosmo. Once she got through her story, she’d order something hardier. “Well, I woke up the next morning and realized my life was pretty much ruined. No wedding, no marriage, public humiliation, and a job suddenly in jeopardy. And like I said, it turned out that the bigwigs wanted me to keep writing the column, but I told them I just can’t. I need some time to figure all this out. And so I decided a getaway would be good.” She slurped her drink a little more, the alcohol turning her more honest by the second – and making her slump her shoulders as she let out a big sigh. “Oh, who am I kidding? I ran away. I escaped. I came here to hide.”
Carla patted her hand. “I think you need another drink, hon.”
Lindsey glanced down. Suddenly her glass was empty. How had that happened? “I do. You make a mean cosmo.”
As Carla started filling the shaker again, she asked, “But why here? I mean, Moose Falls? How do you even know this place exists?”
“Ah,” she said, tipping her head back, then explained, “Millie Pickett was my great aunt.”
Now Carla let out another gasp, but this one sounded merrier. “Millie! We loved Millie around here. We miss her so much.”
Which led Lindsey to tell Carla about the canoe livery offer and how she’d turned it down but had now changed her mind. “Speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to know who bought it?”
“Sure – everyone knows. Rob Colter.”
“All right then.” She turned resolute. “Tomorrow I’m going to track down Rob Colter and get him to sell it to me. And it will be a major step in the right direction of reclaiming my life.”
Carla only blinked, shaking the drink. “Uh, I wouldn’t count on that.”
Lindsey set her chin. “Why not?”
“Well, it’s the guy’s business, Lindsey. He does some construction stuff, too, but when he bought the place, it was pretty clear he meant to settle down here. He even lives in your aunt’s house – she sold it all to him, a package deal.”
A heavy feeling of naiveté settled around Lindsey. For some reason, she hadn’t actually imagined someone buying the canoe rental because they really wanted it – she’d more imagined someone taking it off Aunt Millie’s hands as a favor; she’d envisioned a run-down canoe shack that no one really cared about.
Still … “I can be surprisingly charming. I’m sure he and I can work something out.”
Carla shrugged, passing Lindsey a freshly-filled martini glass. “He’s not exactly Mr. Personality, so I’m not sure charm will sway him. He’s more the gruff, keep-to-himself type.”
“Sounds delightful,” Lindsey said dryly. Then glanced down at the drink. “No lime wedge?” The first cosmo hadn’t had one, either.
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