By Gerri Russell
Felicity Wright by no means anticipated to inherit the lodge the place she works as head chef. yet now, she’ll do whatever to maintain the Bancroft lodge operating—even if that implies blending it up with the overdue owner’s good-looking nephew, Blake Bancroft. He’s the following to problem her unforeseen inheritance of the Bancroft resort, and there’s no manner both of them are jogging away and not using a fight.
When his uncle wills away his family’s oldest estate, Blake Bancroft chefs up a plan to get it again. to take a look at his festival, he’ll have to sign in. Too undesirable his first stumble upon with Felicity proves to be whatever yet soft. As their conflict over possession starts, issues start to warmth up among them—and not only within the kitchen. Their allure could be a recipe for catastrophe. but with the fitting components, it can develop into a recipe for love…
In her debut modern romance, award-winning historic romance writer Gerri Russell whips up a candy, passionate, and unforgettably delectable tale.
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Additional info for Flirting with Felicity
Mhen one travels, one might "hit" a storm. The shoe must be tied to the ankle. As for we who "love to be astonished," McDonalds is the world's largest purchaser of beef eyeballs. They went out with bows and armbands to shoot at the hay. It's as easy as waves, slopping water. Tiaverse, watch, and cease. He had the hands of an artist. Penelope reworking the twill. " I'11just keep myself from picking up the telephone, in order to get some work done. What memory is not a "gripping" thought. Only fragments are accurate.
A healthy dialectic between poetry and prose. Good days go by fast, too fast. On the low rectangular coffee table was a rack for the postcard collection. A lot of questions, a few answers, the progress of questioning, the spot on the brain where these words will go. For example, I remember the blue coat with the red piping but I don't remember myself in it. There was green dust on the park bench, sanded by bottoms. " Raisins, cheese, the fapanese. I was stocking counter-convention in the localized world of the kitchen steam and rain.
As for we who "love to be astonished," the night is lit. Remarkably to learn to look. My father would say I've a "big day" tomor- a storm row. Words are not always adequate to the occasion, and my "probably" sounded hopeless. It's real, why, so, it's wrong. I mentioned my face because I am made that way wonderfully like a shadow I do not despise. But if I don't like the first dress I try on, I won't like any. It is only a coincidence. Whose shadow who's. At the circus the elephants were more beautiful than the horses, more touching than the clowns, and more graceful than the tigers trained to jump on their backs.