Hunter McCaffrey is a well-known published author who has lost the words after losing his wife in an accident two years prior. He and his dog Riley are taking refuge in a cottage by the ocean in Florida offered by his friend Fletcher, hoping to recapture his abilities and will to live again while striving to pull himself out of the dark pit. The pain of losing his wife and trying to exorcise his guilt seems like a battle he is quickly losing through isolation and drink. Needing quiet and solitude is something he demands but is definitely not going to get.
Sylvia Chase's friend Fletcher, who owns the joined cottages, offers her the other half of the cottage as she also needs some time to decide what she is going to do with her life. Losing her husband six months ago has left her alone and drifting with no special education to help her plan. Having no intentions of befriending the man in the cottage next to her, a friendly hello deems him "McAsshole" after the encounter. Hunter only has two weeks to suffer her presence staying in the next cottage. Determined to draw the handsome but nasty tempered man out, she uses her persuasions to succeed in becoming allies.
Surprised to find that they both enjoy each other's company and agree to a short "fling", Sylvia soon realizes she is in love with Hunter and he doesn't reciprocate. Speeding up his libido with Sylvia so close, he is determined to cut her off and protect her from falling for him and to avoid his becoming emotionally attached to her. Of course, Sylvia has other ideas!
THE COTTAGE NEXT DOOR is the second book I have read by Natasha Moore. She has a way of making the reader feel the sorrow and emotion in her characters. Be prepared to laugh one minute and cry the next. A strong willed and determined woman always makes a good story when she's fighting for what she loves and someone she is determined to heal. Natasha Moore is gifted with her words which make the reader feel strong emotions.
It’s tough to grasp a second chance at love when you’re
holding on to the past.
After his wife died in a car accident, bestselling author
Hunter McCaffrey stopped writing—and stopped living. He’s
rented a beachfront cottage to try to get his head on
straight, and start the long climb up from his pit of
despair.
Instead of pounding out a first draft, though, he runs the
beach, drinks away his pain, and tries to ignore the
vibrant
woman in the cottage tucked next to his.
Still floundering months after the loss of her
adventure-junkie husband, Sylvie Chase hopes some beach
relaxation will help her decide what to do with the rest
of
her life. Instead she’s wondering what to do about her
unexpected attraction to Hunter, who makes her body long
for
the feel of his arms around her.
As Sylvie drags Hunter back to the land of the living,
soon
they’re agreeing to a short fling. Just to get past their
sorrow, not because it means anything. But when emotions
get
in the way, it’s a struggle to leave the past behind and
dare to love again.
Warning: This story has plenty of sun and sand, with an
energetic golden retriever thrown into the mix. Prepare to
laugh and cry and cheer for two people who deserve a
second
chance at love.
Excerpt
“Can’t sleep?”
Sylvie started. Hunter’s disembodied voice sounded loud in
the darkness. She couldn’t see a thing on the deck next
door, but had to assume he was sitting in his usual deck
chair. Had he heard her moan?
Her heartbeat slowed back down to normal. “No.” She held
her breath, waiting for him to swear and stomp into the
cottage for intruding on his want-to-be-alone time. Or make
a sarcastic comment about what she’d been doing when she
thought no one was there.
“This is my favorite time at the beach,” he said,
surprising her with his deep, pleasant tone.
“Because you can’t see the hundreds of people around you?”
His soft chuckle surprised her even more. He was quiet for
a moment, then said, “Partly. But there’s something about
the ocean at night. Do you hear it? Right now, this isn’t
the fun-loving shore where kids splash and make
sandcastles. It’s more primitive.” He was silent for a
moment, and Sylvie got caught up in the roar of the waves
as they crashed onto the beach. The sound pulled at her,
called to her.
“Think of the hundreds of thousands of years the ocean has
been pounding the sand,” he went on. “Eating away at the
land, reclaiming it. Taking it back into the bowels of the
deep.”
Her body heated more, even with the cooling breeze. His
voice rolled over her, as powerful as the tug of the waves.
She’d known there had to be more to him than that angry,
bitter man she’d seen so far.
“Ashes to ashes? Dust to dust? Ocean to ocean?” she asked
softly.
The waves pummeled the shore for several long moments
before he replied, “Something like that.”
The words she’d been thinking slipped out easier in the
darkness. “I’m sure she would want you to be happy.”
“What do you know?” he snapped, but Sylvie thought his
voice contained more hurt than anger.
“I know what it’s like to roll over in the middle of the
night and still be surprised to find the other side of the
bed empty.”
“It’s like a kick in the gut every f**king time.”
“Yeah.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “I still
save up things I want to tell him about my day…”
“And then remember she’s not there to share those things
with anymore.”
“I have to look at pictures to remember what he looked like
when he was healthy and fit and eager for the next
adventure.”
“I can’t remember what she smelled like anymore.” Hunter’s
voice cracked. “She had this soft scent like powder and
flowers and I don’t know what, but I used to be able to
smell it everywhere in our apartment. It’s gone now too.”
She nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “I used
to sleep with one of Matt’s shirts and I cried all day when
I realized his scent was gone.” Sylvie was pleased she
could say that without getting tears in her eyes. Maybe
she’d finally reached acceptance.
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