Spotlight & Giveaway: A Brand New Ending by Jennifer Probst

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Jennifer Probst’s new release: A Brand New Ending

A love story will be rewritten in this heartfelt romance from New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Probst.

 
Ophelia Bishop was a lovestruck teenage girl when she and Kyle Kimpton chased their dreams to Hollywood. Kyle’s dreams came true. Ophelia’s did not. When Kyle chose his career over their relationship, Ophelia returned home to rural New York to run the family’s B & B—wiser, and more guarded against foolish fantasies. Now Kyle has come crashing back into her life, and all her defenses are down.
 
Kyle can’t think of a better place to write his latest screenplay than his hometown. After all, that was where he met the heart of his inspiration—his first love. He knows the damage he’s caused Ophelia, and he wants a chance to mend their relationship. If anyone can prove to Ophelia that happy ever afters aren’t only for the movies, it should be him.
 
As much as Ophelia’s changed, she still has feelings for Kyle. But her heart has been broken before, and she knows that Kyle could run back to Hollywood at any time. She gave up her dreams once, but maybe she can dare to change her own love story…one last time.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from A Brand New Ending 

Kyle climbed the porch steps and rang the bell. Squared his shoulders. Recited his speech in his mind.

It all went to hell once Ophelia opened the door.

“What do you want?” she asked with a fierce frown, lips pursed as if she’d tasted something bad. But the intimidating effect was completely ruined by the series of racking coughs that came right after. She covered her mouth with her arm. When she managed to lift her head again and try to glare at him, he caught the glassy look in her blue eyes and the stark paleness of her skin.

“You’re sick,” he said, immediately stepping past her and shutting the door behind him. He laid his hand on her forehead before she could jerk away. “And you have a fever.”

“I’m fine. I took some cold meds.”

He studied the slight shaking of her shoulders under the thick cardigan wrapped around her. “Baby, you may have the flu. You have to get to bed.” The familiar endearment spilled from his lips before he could think.

“Don’t call me that.” But her voice came out weak, and was followed by another series of coughs. “I can rest later. I have a full house today and a million things to do. There’s no time for me to be sick.” She spun around as if trying to show him she had everything under control, then wobbled, her hands grasping for the wall as she scrambled for balance.

He caught her before she tumbled, his heart stopping at the lack of color in her cheeks and the burn of her overheated skin. With a growl, he scooped her up into his arms and marched down the hallway. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“I don’t need—”

“Bedroom,” he commanded.

She gave a small humph and pointed to the last door on the right.

He walked in, quickly surveying the feminine space decorated in her favorite colors of powder blue and lemon yellow. It smelled of honey and lavender. He laid her down on the four-poster bed, ignoring her protests. “You can’t take care of guests with a fever,” he pointed out. “You’ll get them sick, plus spread germs everywhere. Is there someone I can call to help out?”

She blinked as if her vision were blurred, then shook her head. “No. I can get Aubrey to do the cleaning and laundry service, but usually Ethan or Mia or Harper would step in for the main functions like check-in, setting up guests’ schedules, or cooking breakfast.”

“Okay. I know Ethan and Mia are in the city. I’ll call Harper.”

“She’s not here, either,” she said. “She got an emergency call to pick up a rescue horse and won’t be back till tomorrow.” More coughs choked her throat. “It’s okay. I’ll put on a mask. Maybe Aubrey can pick up breakfast at the Market Food Pantry so I don’t have to cook. I can do this.”

Her effort to sit up was so pathetic, his heart squeezed. She’d always been a stubborn, determined creature about whatever task she put her mind to, refusing to admit defeat. It was another reason why he’d been so shocked when she gave up her dreams of singing to run away, bury herself again in the safe world they’d both worked so hard to escape. But that was a discussion for later.

Right now, she needed his help.

“You’re going to stay in bed and get better,” he said, tugging back the quilt and adjusting the pillow. “I’ve got this. I’ll take care of the guests and whatever else is needed.”

Shock widened her eyes. “What? You can’t run an inn. I’m expecting a group of ten skiers today, and I already have two couples staying here. You’d need to do check-ins, make dinner reservations, cook breakfast, put out afternoon snacks, do turn-down service . . . No, you can’t. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, and I can handle it.” She was so weak, he was able to easily shift her under the blankets and tug them over her. “If you allow yourself to burn off the fever and get some sleep, you’ll probably be back in full force tomorrow. I grew up watching your mother, remember? The tasks are simple enough as long as I’m organized. I can handle it.”

She snorted. “You have no clue,” she muttered under her breath. “Mom made it look easy.”

“Ophelia, if you don’t rest, you’re going to end up in the hospital. Can you afford to be out for a whole week?”

“No!”

“Then let me do this for you. Please.”

A glimmer of raw emotion flickered in her eyes, but she quickly broke her gaze and turned her head away in retreat.

After a few moments, she turned back, her tone all business. “In the top drawer, you’ll find a piece of paper with all the tasks for check-in listed. I have everything saved in Excel with the guest information, credit card numbers, assigned rooms, and personal preferences—including any food allergies. All restaurant and activity reservations should also be included. Tea and cookies go out in the main parlor at three p.m. It’s Amanda and Michael’s anniversary, so I ordered flowers and chocolate-covered strawberries to be delivered. You need to set up the dining room at five p.m. with a bottle of champagne and the crystal flutes. I’ve got some frozen scones prepared, so if you’re able to pair them with bacon and eggs in the morning, I think we can get away with a basic breakfast. Although it might be nice to have fresh fruit, and Michael specifically requested bagels, so you’ll need to pick that up from the Market at six a.m. Kyle?”

His head spun from the list of instructions, but he schooled his expression and nodded with confidence. “Yes?”

“I’m going to throw up now.”

He jumped into action. Guiding her quickly out of bed, he got her to the bathroom and held back her tangled hair as she got sick, even as she desperately tried to wave him off. By the time she was back in bed, he’d retrieved a glass of lemon water, another round of meds, and a cool washcloth. He placed a bucket by her side.

She rolled her head on the pillow and groaned. “First you see me in yoga pants with messy hair. Now I’m sick and disgusting. Fate sucks.”

He laughed, thinking she wouldn’t be so open if it weren’t for her fever. He smoothed the cloth over her damp forehead and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. The years fell away, bringing him back to a nest of memories: the time she drank too much champagne at their very first Hollywood party and he took care of her during the awful night of bed spins; when she twisted her ankle wearing new designer heels and he carried her twenty blocks to the ER because he couldn’t get a cab; the time she cried after speaking with her mom and got homesick so he cuddled her in bed while feeding her Hershey’s Kisses. The way she’d leaned on him gave him a sense of purpose he’d never been able to duplicate. She was the only woman who made him want to be his best and feel whole.

God knows, he’d forgotten how that felt after so many years.

He decided to take advantage of her honesty while he had the chance. Keeping his tone light, he said, “Those yoga pants were sexier than a tight miniskirt. And you were always the most beautiful without any type of makeup or fancy clothes.”

She made a face. “Ugh, you are so lying to me. You’re used to those Hollywood chicks now.”

He cupped his hand to her hot cheek, his voice husky with emotion. “I don’t lie. One of the things I loved most was your vulnerability. The way you opened up only to me. It was a gift that meant everything, and there hasn’t been another woman I’ve even wanted to be as close to as I was with you.”

The power of his confession broke through, surprising both of them with its raw force. A soft gasp escaped her bee-stung lips. Her eyes softened and, for one perfect moment, it was like nothing had changed since they first looked at one another and realized they’d become much more than friends.

She opened her mouth . . . and fell into a coughing fit.

His hand dropped from her cheek and he eased back, giving them both space. “I’ll come back and check on you soon. Try to rest.”

He left her, his chest tight with too many emotions he didn’t have the time to examine.

He had an inn to run.

Excerpt. ©Jennifer Probst. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway: eBook: A BRAND NEW ENDING by Jennifer Probst

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Meet the Author:

Jennifer Probst is the New York Times bestselling author of the Billionaire Builders series, the Searching For series, The Marriage series, the Steele Brothers series, and The Start of Something Good, which is the first book in the Stay series. Like some of her characters, Probst, along with her husband and two sons, calls New York’s Hudson Valley home. When she isn’t traveling to meet readers, she enjoys reading, watching “shameful reality television,” and visiting a local Hudson Valley animal shelter.