Summary:
There are no rules to starting over…
Running away from his messy divorce hasn’t brought Ira Fragale the peace he craves. If he's going to get his life together, he needs to pull himself together and clean up the mess he’s made of his life.
Bartending is an easy gig, Cameron McCulloch enjoys the friendships he's developed since his family rejected him for being gay, but he longs for more.
Cam’s had a crush on the older man for a while, but Ira only has one-night stands. He never has do-overs; Ira may be older, but that doesn't mean he knows what he’s doing.
When Ira falls ill Cam cares for him, and their relationship slowly begins to shift.
The more Cam learns about Ira, the more he is drawn to him. Will the older man finally open up and let him in?
Unforgivable is a dual POV about a wise younger man and an older man who could learn a thing or two. The Shielded Hearts series follows a different couple in each book as they stop killers, unravel a human trafficking ring and fall in love.
Summary:
He made the mistake of falling in love with his best friend.
Rod has known Travis almost all his life; since the third grade when Rod was the new kid in town and Travis befriended him with trading cards and a fruit snack. Apparently, Rod’s easy.
Travis was always destined to take over the family business. As the only boy he’s expected to take the helm of the Walker farming operation, and he’s good at it.
When Travis announces he’s engaged to a local girl, Rod decides he's done waiting for something that will never happen.
Rod abruptly leaves town and Travis begins to question what Rod really means to him. But will his family support him?
His Best Man is a standalone in the Shielded Hearts series, a friends-to-lovers romance with a happily ever after. The Shielded Hearts series follows a different couple in each book as they stop killers, unravel a human trafficking ring and fall in love. Not necessarily all at the same time.
Summary:
Unforgivable #6
RATING:
Elle Keaton
Beto Hernandez isn't in town to make friends, much less fall in love.
His objective: Break the human trafficking ring plaguing Skagit once and for all.
When he crosses paths with an intriguing and handsome younger man, the first in years to spark Beto’s interest, he knows the attraction can't go anywhere.
Carsten Quinn wants nothing to do with the law.
After surviving years in hell, Carsten has his own mission. The only problem is he’s hiding, not living anything like a normal life. He doesn’t trust anyone, especially not cops.
The two try to stay away from each other, but their undeniable chemistry keeps them close. And when Carsten’s past comes back with a vengeance, he has no one to turn to but Beto.
Are Beto and Carsten too different and too broken to trust anyone, much less each other? Can they overcome the terrifying obstacles on their path to love?
When it Rains is a dual POV about a tough loner with a tender side and a man who's done everything he had to in order to survive. An opposites attract romance with a happily ever after. The Shielded Hearts series follows a different couple in each book as they stop killers, unravel a human trafficking ring and fall in love. Not necessarily all at the same time.
Original Review July 2019:
I would have to say that there is less of the mystery aspect to this entry in the Accidental Roots series than in the previous installments but its no less heart-grabbing. Skagit, Washington is definitely an interesting place to live.
Part of you will want to hate Ira Fragale for leaving his wife and son behind but he's really not a bad guy because his actions are more about punishing himself than any level of abandoning them. Cameron McCulloch on the other hand makes you want to wrap him up in a bear hug from his first appearance and never let go. On first inspection these two don't appear to fit on any level but truth is the more you know them the more you realize not only are they a perfect fit they really are made for each other. I found myself rooting for these two from beginning to end.
As I said above, the mystery aspect is not as forefront in Unforgivable as with earlier books but there is still a level of wanting the truth to come out that had me on the edge of my seat. I didn't read this in one sitting but that was down more to outside forces than want, had I no interruptions then I definitely would've read this from cover to cover in one go.
For those wondering about the reading order of Accidental Roots, well for the most part these are standalones especially these later ones but personally I'm glad I read them in the order they were written. Would I have been lost had I started with Ira and Cam's story? No, not at all but there are a few previous characters popping up that I'm glad I knew who they were and what they went through but I wouldn't have been lost in anyway or carrying a feeling of missing something had I not known the first five entries in the series.
Part of you will want to hate Ira Fragale for leaving his wife and son behind but he's really not a bad guy because his actions are more about punishing himself than any level of abandoning them. Cameron McCulloch on the other hand makes you want to wrap him up in a bear hug from his first appearance and never let go. On first inspection these two don't appear to fit on any level but truth is the more you know them the more you realize not only are they a perfect fit they really are made for each other. I found myself rooting for these two from beginning to end.
As I said above, the mystery aspect is not as forefront in Unforgivable as with earlier books but there is still a level of wanting the truth to come out that had me on the edge of my seat. I didn't read this in one sitting but that was down more to outside forces than want, had I no interruptions then I definitely would've read this from cover to cover in one go.
For those wondering about the reading order of Accidental Roots, well for the most part these are standalones especially these later ones but personally I'm glad I read them in the order they were written. Would I have been lost had I started with Ira and Cam's story? No, not at all but there are a few previous characters popping up that I'm glad I knew who they were and what they went through but I wouldn't have been lost in anyway or carrying a feeling of missing something had I not known the first five entries in the series.
His Best Man #7
Original Review July 2019:
In His Best Man we finally get to see Rod Beton and Travis Walker, who we briefly met in Unforgivable when they came into the bar where Cam worked, have their story told. As you can imagine it isn't all roses and rainbows for the pair(it would be a pretty dull and short pamphlet if it was easy😉).
Poor Rod has long since been in love with his friend Travis and just as he's worked up the courage to talk to him about it he finds himself being asked to be Travis' best man. You just want to bundle Rod in bubblewrap to keep his heart safe and I'll admit I wanted to throttle Travis on more than one occasion but there has to be some drama in the seventh entry in Accidental Roots series or it wouldn't fit the Skagit, Washington crew we've come to know and love.
His Best Man is definitely a tale of timing, acceptance, and being who you were born to be. Whether Rod and Travis came find that right timing is something you'll have to read for yourself. Again, this entry has even less to no mystery crime-wise than the previous entries but that lack of who-done-it didn't keep me from devouring the boys' journey. You'll cry, you'll laugh, you'll cry some more, but most of all your heart will be warmed by that last page.
Once again, this entry is a standalone but personally I am glad I read them in order. Mostly its just some secondary character mentions and cameos from the earlier stories that made it flow better for me knowing where their journey took them but if you start with His Best Man you won't be lost. However you choose to read Accidental Roots, I highly recommend giving this series the time because they are all wonderfully written tales that keep you entertained from beginning to end.
Poor Rod has long since been in love with his friend Travis and just as he's worked up the courage to talk to him about it he finds himself being asked to be Travis' best man. You just want to bundle Rod in bubblewrap to keep his heart safe and I'll admit I wanted to throttle Travis on more than one occasion but there has to be some drama in the seventh entry in Accidental Roots series or it wouldn't fit the Skagit, Washington crew we've come to know and love.
His Best Man is definitely a tale of timing, acceptance, and being who you were born to be. Whether Rod and Travis came find that right timing is something you'll have to read for yourself. Again, this entry has even less to no mystery crime-wise than the previous entries but that lack of who-done-it didn't keep me from devouring the boys' journey. You'll cry, you'll laugh, you'll cry some more, but most of all your heart will be warmed by that last page.
Once again, this entry is a standalone but personally I am glad I read them in order. Mostly its just some secondary character mentions and cameos from the earlier stories that made it flow better for me knowing where their journey took them but if you start with His Best Man you won't be lost. However you choose to read Accidental Roots, I highly recommend giving this series the time because they are all wonderfully written tales that keep you entertained from beginning to end.
When it Rains #8
Original Review August 2019:
I'm just going to jump out of the gate and say, When it Rains is probably the darkest entry in Elle Keaton's Accidental Roots series so read with caution. Now, by "caution" I don't mean with hesitation because of its darker elements, no I mean read with caution because you won't want to put it down once you start. I can't say I read this one in one sitting because outside forces interfered but I sure wanted to, I didn't want to stop once I started.
Beto and Carsten's journey will suck you in and make you love them, not that its a hard sell, oh no because you want to see them find happiness. You want to wrap Carsten up in bubblewrap then give him a huge mama-bear hug to let him know he's safe and loved. Sometimes people just have to experience the hardship to truly appreciate the goodness that so many take for granted.
There's really not much more I can say about When it Rains that I haven't already said about the other series entries. The simplest way to put it: When it Rains is thrilling, romantic, dark, but mostly it is filled with heart that makes you cheer for Chance and Beto from page one. The pair definitely deserve a place in Skagit, Washington, happiness may not come easy but you know its worth the battle. If you haven't been reading Accidental Roots, I highly recommend doing so, it is a series of love, mystery, romance, friendship, good times and bad, but most importantly it has heart that will make you smile, certainly cry at times, but mostly it makes you smile.
Beto and Carsten's journey will suck you in and make you love them, not that its a hard sell, oh no because you want to see them find happiness. You want to wrap Carsten up in bubblewrap then give him a huge mama-bear hug to let him know he's safe and loved. Sometimes people just have to experience the hardship to truly appreciate the goodness that so many take for granted.
There's really not much more I can say about When it Rains that I haven't already said about the other series entries. The simplest way to put it: When it Rains is thrilling, romantic, dark, but mostly it is filled with heart that makes you cheer for Chance and Beto from page one. The pair definitely deserve a place in Skagit, Washington, happiness may not come easy but you know its worth the battle. If you haven't been reading Accidental Roots, I highly recommend doing so, it is a series of love, mystery, romance, friendship, good times and bad, but most importantly it has heart that will make you smile, certainly cry at times, but mostly it makes you smile.
Unforgivable #6
Ira supposed as he had many times, that his job wasn’t much different than Cameron’s. Cam of the golden brown hair and deep amber eyes. Cam who was so off limits that Ira shouldn’t even be thinking his name. Too young, too smart, too quick to find Ira’s soft spots. Ira’d had a moment of weakness and they’d a freakishly pleasant weekend together but he hadn’t let it continue.
And, yeah, Ira couldn’t stop himself from going to the Loft where Cam worked, but at least he hadn’t gone home with him again. A win for the team.
The door burst open again and, shit, it was the kid from the other night. Ira should have known better, but Ira’d wanted company and he’d made himself very available. Too late Ira realized he had starry eye’s and boyfriend practically tattooed on his forehead.
“Hey, Ira.” He had his hands shoved in the back pockets of his jeans, his hips cocked in what he probably thought was a cute pose. At the Loft, Ira’d thought he was thirtyish. In daylight, he was adjusting that estimate down to barely twenty-one and cursing himself. Ira liked younger men, he enjoyed the enthusiasm, in bed and out, and their worldviews – so different than the scary gay-aids world of the 1980s and 90s that Ira had experienced first hand. The problem was not they were too young but that Ira was too old.
Ira searched his memory, they’d gone to the kid’s apartment and had sex. Ira had left regardless of him telling Ira he could stay, he couldn’t remember his name. Kevin? Shaun? No. Colin?
He finished cleaning another table then made his way to the front counter to help make drinks and dole out pastries. “Did you need something?” he asked Cary – he was sure of it – on his way by.
Cary’s pale complexion flushed a rosy pink. “Oh, uh, not really,” Ira could see him scrambling to come up with an excuse for having stopped by. “I was just in the neighborhood.”
He walked behind the counter where the counter kid was staring at the influx of newcomers, “Sebastian you want to make drinks or take their money?”
“Uh,” Sebastian stared at Ira through the thick lenses of his glasses, stalling out. Ira watched Cary leave without ordering anything. Wonderful, his reputation as a complete and utter asshole was untarnished.
“I’ll do drinks,” Ira said and pushed past Sebastian to get to the machine.
Ira should’ve asked Sara for the day off but he’d hoped an extra shift would keep him distracted, and anyway he had days ahead of him to brood. Nothing could distract Ira from the fact that this was the month that his father had been murdered nearly twenty years ago, and two years since his life fell apart a second time. Over two years since he’d talked to any of his remaining family. To Simon.
The squeal of the steam wand and hiss of the heads as hot water was forced through the portafilters lulled Ira into a kind of calm. He made several espresso drinks, chatting mindlessly with the uniformed cops who were waiting for their caffeine.
A familiar voice insinuated itself past his shell of serenity. Ira had to force himself not to turn toward the sound of Cameron McCulloch ordering a drink. Cameron was at the end of the line, saying hi to a cop standing in front of him. Ira snuck a look to see if he was with anyone. Cam waited, rocking back on his heels with his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, not talking to anyone else. On his own then.
As he often did, Cam had his long brown-blonde hair tied back in a messy knot. Ira supposed it was a man bun or whatever but on Cameron it was natural and incredibly sexy. Cameron had an air of friendliness, which probably came from being a bartender, or his naturally sweet personality. But he also had a sadness about him, an invisible cloak giving him a shadow. He hid it well, but Ira saw it. Was afraid to learn more about it, knowing that the more he knew the harder it would be to keep him at arms-length.
Cameron saw Ira glance over at him but didn’t crack a smile. He acted like they didn’t know each other. Yep, Ira was an asshole and a hypocrite. And maybe he didn’t have to worry about keeping Cam at arms-length anymore. For reasons he didn’t want to examine, he found the thought unsettling.
Cam claimed his Americano muttering a terse, “Thanks.” Then he went and sat at the farthest open table from the front. Ira went back to what he was doing but he had Cameron radar. He knew exactly where Cameron was in the room and, exactly when another man came and sat down at his table.
Ira felt anger rise, hot and heavy. Cameron greeted the stranger with obvious pleasure, first a handshake before the other man pulled him into a hug. Was it unreasonable to expect that Cameron wouldn’t meet dates where Ira worked? Hypocrite.
The line continued to grow, and Ira spent the next hour with his head down making coffees as quickly as he could. He knew when Cameron and his friend left and forced himself to focus on what he was doing, to not look up and watch the two of them leave together. He was the one who didn’t want anything, who’d seen the compassion and caring in Cameron’s eyes. He was the one who was broken and would make a nice guy like Cameron miserable in the long run.
Much later, after his extra-long shift at the Booking Room finally drew to a close, Ira half-heartedly tried to convince himself not to go to the Loft for a drink. It was a Friday though, and he had the next few days off. Cameron had shown up at his work, no reason he couldn’t go to Cameron’s.
Tomorrow he would quit showing up at the Loft, and stop picking up men young enough to be his kid. Stop thinking about Cameron McCulloch. The weekend they’d spent together. God. Ira was such a shit. Yeah and tomorrow he’d get his act together enough to pick up a paintbrush and actually do something with it.
Their weekend together had been incredible. Ira’d been relaxed, happy, comfortable with himself for the first time in years. He’d enjoyed the sex, of course, but he’d also soaked up the conversation, small touches, and Cameron’s genuine caring personality. They’d binge-watched stupid TV shows and compared music playlists. Ira’d teased Cameron about his ratty collection of Jane Eyre novels until Cameron had pulled one from the shelf and started reading aloud to him. Jane Eyre was forever going to be on Ira’s top ten.
They’d snuck out for food, Cameron’s small refrigerator laid bare after a couple rounds in the sack, they’d both been ravenous. Pretending the weekend could turn into more had been far too easy for Ira to imagine. Which is why he’d ended it before it went too far. Ira was damaged goods, somehow Cameron would learn the truth about him. If he let Cameron in Ira didn’t think he could knit himself back together again after he left.
Those two magical days had been a vacation from the unadulterated fuckery that was Ira’s real life. When Sunday evening finally rolled around reality had set in. Ira’d messed up enough lives, he needed to make sure Cameron didn’t think Ira was able to give him anything. So, he’d been an asshole. Yeah, Ira.
He rubbed his chest, it was like he had actual physical pain when he thought about what he had done and the pain he’d caused. He missed them both, so much. The tears caught him by surprise.
His Best Man #7
His sister had the refrigerator door propped open against her hip, hunting for a snack. Wasn’t it funny how you could eat until you thought you were going to pop and somehow manage to be hungry only a few hours later? Strangers often thought he and Abs were twins; Abigail was almost as tall as Travis and they had the same color hair and eyes. Travis was older, but Abigail constantly reminded him she was more mature.
“Abigail, where’s Rod? Have you seen him? I can’t find him anywhere.”
Abigail cocked her head over her shoulder to look over at him with an expression Travis couldn’t quite translate. He wasn’t always good at reading people. He needed them to tell him what they were thinking.
“He left. I saw his truck pull out of the driveway.” She pulled a plate of turkey out of the fridge and started to make herself a sandwich.
Travis was speechless for a minute. Rod had left? Where would he go? Why would he go?
“He left? When? The roads are going to be terrible! Why would he leave without saying goodbye?” There’d been warnings all week about a winter storm on its way that was going to bring snow east of the Cascades and rain and wind to the west side of the state.
“Gee, Trav, I don’t know, maybe because you forgot to mention to him that you were getting engaged?” Abagail let out a derisive scoff. “And to Lisa Harris, of all people.” She dumped a spoonful of cranberry sauce on the turkey before laying the second piece of bread across the meat.
“Don’t hold back, Abigail, tell me how you really feel. What’s wrong with Lisa? She’s nice, and we’ve known her forever.” Lisa wasn’t bad. She and Travis had been known each other since they were little.
“Lisa’s been obsessing over you forever, she used to try and pump me for information about you; what did you like who you liked…I just have a bad feeling.” shrug, “If I’m wrong I’ll buy you a beer. Don’t you think that’s a question you should have asked before you asked her to marry you?” She took a big bite of her sandwich, chewing and swallowing while she waited for his answer.
“Jeez, Abs.” She glowered at the use of her childhood nickname; “Abs” did not make her happy. “I’ve known her forever, and Mom and Dad—well, Mom seems to like her.” His mom was the only one who mattered; their dad tended to stay quiet during family discussions. “Besides, I didn’t really ask her. We kind of agreed together.”
“You are so stupid. God. How did you survive to adulthood? You know how? I’ll tell you how: Rod saved your ass time after time. You wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him. I mean, seriously, if you are going to use the excuse; I’m sorry, ‘reason’”—she actually made air quotes—“that you asked Lisa to marry you because you’ve known her forever, why didn’t you ask Rod? You’ve known him longer.”
When it Rains #8
Carsten
Five years ago
A seagull called from somewhere overhead. This morning’s fog was thick enough he couldn’t see the bird, but he could imagine it, winging high over the cabin far from the open sea. Seagulls were scavengers, not anything interesting, but a vivid memory surfaced of watching hundreds of them swooping and flying above a landfill, fighting for food scraps, the victors lording it over the others atop the mountains of refuse, screaming in triumph much like the solo bird above his head.
The wind picked up, blowing his hair around his face and into his mouth, where it stuck to his chapped lips before he brushed it off. It was long enough to braid or tie back; in defiance he did neither. What he was defying, he couldn’t put his finger on, but wearing his hair down and not restrained was freedom. He hated his hair; the rare times he’d been in public, strangers had pointed at him, claiming they were jealous of it— how wonderful to have such beautiful hair— but for him it was a curse, bringing unwanted attention despite also providing something to hide behind when he needed to. Real defiance would be shaving his head.
The phone call had come late the night before. He’d been in the middle of watching an old movie from the 1980s. Recently he’d had a few more freedoms, as if Garrett no longer cared what he knew about the world outside, but there was no internet for him to surf, only an ancient VCR hooked to the TV. He wasn’t supposed to answer the phone— as far as he could recall, it had never rung before— but Garrett had been late returning from his business trip. Very late. The phone had rung into the silence of the cabin, stopped for a minute or so, and then begun again. He stared at it like it was a venomous snake or rabid dog. Finally he picked it up.
“Hello, is this Garrett Cook’s residence?”
“Yes.” He supposed it was; he had no way of knowing otherwise.
“Are you his next of kin?”
The person on the other end was no one who knew Garrett personally, or they wouldn’t have believed him when he agreed he was Garrett’s next of kin.
“I’m calling from St. Joseph’s Hospital in Skagit. Mr. Cook has been in an accident. Can you come to the hospital?”
He’d almost laughed, but the caller had been serious.
“No, I’m sorry. Garrett had the only car. We’re pretty far away, I think.”
The person was quiet for a moment. He could hear hospital sounds in the background, beeping, low voices.
The person came back on the line. “Mr. Cook’s condition is extremely critical. It’s likely he won’t make it through the night. If you want to see him, there may not be another chance.”
Garrett hadn’t been afraid to leave him alone occasionally, because the closest town was miles away through rugged terrain and the closest neighbor probably had the same kind of secrets as Garrett.
“Thank you, I’ll try to get there.”
For the first time in years, he’d slept through the night without waking.
Before going to sleep, he’d called the only number he knew by heart. It was disconnected, as it had been the last time he’d tried. He wasn’t sure what led him to try again. Making sure he was absolutely alone in the world, he supposed. He was.
The cabin was isolated but well appointed, as Garrett had liked his comforts. If he was careful, he had food for a couple of weeks. He had choices: Wait for a while to see what would happen, see who would show up— someone would, eventually— or hike out and hope for the best. He dressed and found a small backpack and a wad of cash Garrett had thought was hidden well. He tucked jeans and the plain white T-shirts Garrett provided him in the bag. Nothing else.
Nerves and reality were beginning to set in. He knew if he didn’t leave now, he might never find the courage to. In an odd way he was safe here. Walking through the small log cabin one last time, he grabbed Garrett’s— now his— ancient SLR camera. Garrett didn’t like— hadn’t liked— taking pictures of him recently, not since he’d filled out a little in the past year. He had always wondered who else Garrett had taken pictures of, before he came along.
As stupid as it was, in some ways (in a lot of ways) staying put felt like the better choice— safer, anyway. On the other hand, he realized as he stood outside listening to the lone seagull call through the mist, he never wanted to go back inside that place.
He knew about conditions like Stockholm syndrome and how abusers manipulated their victims into liking, and even protecting, them. Garrett had tried a lot of those kinds of tactics in the beginning. He could’ve told him it was pointless to manipulate someone who was utterly alone. The other side of the coin was, at least Garrett fed him, wore a condom when he wanted sex, and didn’t like bruises on his pale skin. He’d only tried to escape once, a couple of years ago. The punishment had made it not worth the effort.
He shut the door behind him. He would’ve locked it, but he didn’t have a key. Slinging the backpack up onto his shoulder, he started to make his way up the long gravel drive that led to a slightly wider gravel road a mile or so away. Eventually he’d find a town or hitch a ride.
All at once, the gull’s cry wasn’t the only sound he heard. The crunch of tires far up the drive but definitely coming closer reached his ears. Had Garrett survived after all? His stomach twisted, almost making him sick. He stopped walking to listen. Had the phone call been merely a fever dream or hallucination? Being alone all the time … maybe he’d dreamed the conversation with the nice person from the hospital.
If he hadn’t been outside, he wouldn’t have heard the truck coming. Coming to his senses, he raced to hide behind a huge cedar tree a little back from the driveway. If Garrett was still alive … he didn’t know what he would do. He cowered behind the tree, shivering against the cold mountain air, praying it wasn’t Garrett. By the time he realized he should’ve run back inside, it was too late.
As he watched from his hidden vantage point, an old pickup truck came into view. Two men were in the cab. He didn’t recognize either of them.
The men climbed out, dressed in worn camo gear and heavy boots. They met at the back of the truck, opened the gate, and each grabbed a bright red plastic container out of the bed. Quickly and efficiently, they poured gasoline around the foundation of the cabin and on the porch, then splashed more liquid on the old gray siding before laying out a length of rope. They soaked that in gasoline as well, before one of them lit it.
They were eerily quiet the entire time. He only heard the wind and the rustle of pine needles under their heavy boots. There was no conversation, no chatting, no wondering if maybe they should check and see if someone was inside. Once the fire was blazing, the men returned to the truck, turned it around, and disappeared up the driveway.
Once the truck was gone, the only sounds were the snap and pop of flames as they hungrily consumed the cabin, burning high and hot. At one point he worried the surrounding evergreens might catch fire, but Garrett had been paranoid about forest fire; the closest trees were fifty feet from the cabin. A wall collapsed inward, sending sparks flying into the air, followed by the roof; the remaining walls were consumed in minutes.
Finally the last of the small building crumpled into an indistinguishable pile of rubble with him as the only witness, the only human for miles as far as he knew. Looking around, he took in the trees and shrubs; the sound of the fire cooling, popping every once in a while when it found a new source of fuel. In the distance he heard a bird call.
“The hell,” he muttered to no one.
The newly minted Carsten Quinn pulled himself together. He was free, really free— reborn like the phoenix. Maybe the men hadn’t known about Carsten, or maybe they hadn’t cared. If they had known about him, now they believed he was dead in the fire, along with all the other evidence of Garrett’s secret life.
👀Formerly published as Accidental Roots👀
Do you love inclusive, swoony, and often suspenseful small-town romances featuring complex characters and a unique sense of place? I do too! My characters start out broken and, maybe, they’re still a tad banged up by the end, but they find the other half of their hearts and ALWAYS get their happily ever after.
In 2017 I pressed the Publish button for the first time and have never looked back—making this the longest period of time I've stuck with a job in my entire life.
Currently, there are over thirty Elle Keaton books available for you to read or listen to. I love cats and dogs. Star Wars and Star Trek. Pineapple on pizza, and have a cribbage habit my husband encourages.
Connecting with readers is very important to me. If you are so inclined, join The Highway to Elle newsletter, and keep up to date with everything Elle-related (or join my Ream page and get in on the novels early plus swag and extras). Random topics Include, but not limited to, ‘where are Elle's glasses?' and, ‘why are there cats?’. I can also be found on Facebook, Instagram, and occasionally TikTok.
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When it Rains #8
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The NorthStar
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