Page 4 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage
Hopefully there wouldn’t be any more questions after that, but Bronte knew better.
Aubrey’s eyes lit up. “That’s great. I always wanted to write a book. What do you write?”
Bronte’s second most-hated question. “Oh, just some family sagas.”
“I love to read. My ex and I used to have contests to see who could read the most books every year.” Her smile wavered just for the briefest moment before returning. “Are you published? Anything I might have read?”
She almost brushed off the question, but she’d just look more ridiculous when the truth came out. “The Pike Family Saga.” Almost six years since her first novel had launched her career, and she still felt awkward talking about it.
“Like the movie?”
Despite herself, Bronte relaxed. Fans of the movies were easier to handle than fans of the books. “Yes.Color of the Stars.”
Aubrey snapped her gloved fingers. “Yes, that’s it. Wow, so you’re like a celebrity.”
Bronte winced. “Not really.”
“So, are you working on the next in the series? Are there going to be more movies?”
“I’m working on the last book in the series.” Why she had been so adamant about that, she’d never know. Now that the end was here, she didn’t want to say goodbye. “But there should be more movies coming out. The rights were bought for the entire series.”
“That is so exciting.” Aubrey continued rambling about celebrities and movies and asked something about Liam Hemsworth, but Bronte’s mind wandered. All the movie, book, and Pike family questions were always the same.
She should talk to Lexi about asking the publisher if they could extend the series. Bronte knew they would be on board with that idea. But if she wanted to ask for more books, another contract, she needed to make sure this last book was the best one so they couldn’t tell her no. Maybe Vivian Pike would run from the love of her life and move to an island. Or maybe her love would be the one to leave her, and she would still go to the island, vowing to live out her days alone. She could take over the apothecary shop, just like her mother had always wanted her to. Where would the series go from there? Maybe she should throw in a secret love child.
Bronte wrinkled her nose. No. There would be no secret love children.
“Don’t you think?”
Bronte snapped back to the conversation at hand. Drat. Aubrey had asked a question, and Bronte had completely missed it.
The intercom crackled. “On behalf of everyone at Jonathon Island, we’d like to welcome you to the island. We’ll be docking in just a few minutes, so please remain seated until the vessel has been secured to the dock and luggage carts have been unloaded. Please take this opportunity to collect your things. And lastly, please be courteous to your fellow passengers as you exit the ferry. Thank you, and have a nice visit.”
Saved by the boat.
“Well.” Aubrey pushed off the railing and turned to go back inside. “I guess that’s our cue.”
Turning, Bronte couldn’t help but sneak one more glance at the approaching island—her home for the next two weeks. Tall, bare trees peeked over the tops of the colorful buildings that dotted the shoreline.
She had studied the map of Jonathon Island for the last month, ever since she’d decided this would be where she hid away to finish her novel. She could picture the shops along Main Street and the friendly smiles of the people who lived here year-round. Jonathon Island was the perfect place to write the last Pike novel. Bronte could already feel the inspiration calling to her from the island.
Okay, right. She could do this.
Nothing would get in the way of her finishing this novel.
* * *
Bronte was ready to hunker down and start working on this book. Now she just needed to find Mia Franklin and get the keys to the cottage she’d rented.
Having secured their luggage, Bronte and Aubrey disembarked and walked down Ferry Street. The cutest row of white and gray shops—adorned with multicolored awnings, twinkle lights swaying in the slight breeze—lined both sides of Main Street, and fine, it was a little bit magical, decorated for Christmas with its lights and wreaths and ribbons.
Even with a few of the shops vacant, Bronte could tell this was the hub of the island. She had loved what she’d seen of Jonathon Island on the House to Home YouTube channel—yes, she was that person that would rather follow a YouTube series than watch anything on primetime television.
She couldn’t believe she actually stood here.
“Where are you headed?”
Bronte pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled to her messages. “I need to find a Martha’s on Main and a Mia Franklin to get the keys to the place I’m renting.”
