Summary:
A blazing connection between single dads from opposite sides of the tracks is fraught with secrets and lies, and a happily ever after is impossible, unless they take a chance on love.
Saved a long time ago by a man who saw a diamond in the rough, Logan is a single dad and the owner of Redcars Automotive, a haven for those in need. With custody of his daughter under scrutiny, his life is upended when a journalist looking for a story slips into his life without him realizing. Logan doesn’t want Gray more than once, but when sharing the secrets of his past won’t get the journalist to leave, what else can he do?
After blaming himself for missing signs that his son was ill, Gray feels Ben is safer with his ex-wife and her new pediatrician husband. With a heart heavy with guilt, and his documentary company failing to find a story, he’s searching for some spark in his life to fix everything. When a series of arson attempts draws him to Los Angeles, he meets the secretive, scarred, and tattooed Logan, who makes him an offer that Gray knows he should refuse.
This opposites-attract love story features two single dads reaching a crossroads in life, angst, secrets, arson, intimidation, and a found family so tightly connected that nothing can break it apart.
Miracle #7
Summary:
An abandoned baby, a poignant note from his long-lost twin, and unexpectedly, Jax’s world is turned upside down.
Despite being adopted by a loving family when he was a child, Jax feels part of his life is missing, and driven by dreams of his brother being in danger, Jax is consumed by his search for his biological twin. Shocked to find a surprise delivery on his doorstep, Jax discovers that not only is he an uncle, but apparently, he’s a legal guardian to baby Charlie. He calls on the unwavering support of his friends and family to solve the mystery surrounding the new arrival, but also finds help from an unexpected source—Arlo, the enigmatic bear of a man who works for him.
Arlo is no stranger to caring. When his parents passed, he dropped out of college to care for his siblings, working construction to pay the bills. With his brothers grown and having left home, it’s Arlo’s turn to live, but when the next stage of his life means owning up to his love for Jax, he can’t find the words to be honest about how he feels. The problem for Arlo is that he’s been in unrequited love with his boss for three years and can’t bear to not be part of his life. Is it too much to wish for a miracle to make Jax fall for him too?
Original Review May 2023:
I've said it before and I'll say it again: there is nothing sexier than a man who cares for kids, who lives up to the dad moniker. In the Pride, the latest entry in RJ Scott's Single Dads series, we see not one but two dads and more than one gentle-hearted soul who lends uncle-level support. So there is just all kinds of positive fatherly yumminess to be enjoyed.
Too often(or at least in my reading experience) in fiction we find divided parents that just can't find common ground to provide their kids with stability in joint custodies. Now I know that happens in reality so why shouldn't it happen in fiction? But in my reading recollections it seems like the author does that for drama purposes only and that's okay because we have to have some conflict but because it happens more than I'd like to see, when you have an author who goes the opposite direction and have amicable splits that can still enjoy each other's companies I feel a need to highlight it.
This is why I mention the above point: RJ Scott has done that beautifully. So fluently actually that for a few minutes you almost forget Gray and his ex aren't simply BFFs. Maybe I'm just not reading the right books but this just isn't seen enough for me so a huge Kudos! to RJ Scott for this factor. Now that's not to say Logan and his ex don't have the potential to be on the same level but her husband . . . well lets just say he puts off some not so super friendly vibes.
Watching both men with their perspective offspring is fun and heartwarming, perhaps neither child has as much page-time as previous entries but they own every scene they appear in. Delightful. Simply delightful.
There is a bit more of a mystery element to this Single Dads entry than others and I'll admit I had an inkling where it was headed but not quite how or the full extent behind the danger. Within or around the danger lies, Redcars Automotives, Logan's business that through classic car repair and rebuilts, help certain people get a second chance in life. It's due to Redcars and what they offer that Logan is leery of Gray's journalistic intrusion(or at least that is how Gray sees it). Will the danger be resolved? Will Gray prove to Logan he isn't out to destroy the stability Redcars provides? I think you know the answers . . . read for yourself and as always with RJ Scott's work, you won't be disappointed.
Pride is a journey of healing, discovery, and finding your place in the world through love, friendship, family, and second chances. Some use the label "found family" when it comes to family-not-by-marriage-or-blood, personally I just like "family", whichever label you find fits best, there is no denying family is important to everyone in this story and that makes the goodness of Pride all the more longlasting.
I may be repeating myself but the statement I made about the men and their kids also says it best when it comes to my overall reading experience with Pride: Delightful. Simply delightful.
One last note: I briefly talked about the second chances given at Logan's Redcars Automotive, it seems the author will be bringing to us a Single Dads spinoff centered around the classic car repair and rebuild business January 2024 starting with Logan's righthand man, Enzo. I for one can't wait!
Miracle #7
Original Review December Book of the Month 2023:
Since it's Christmas I will keep this review a little shorter than usually, short, sweet, and to the point . . . nothing wrong with that😉.
As I've said with every entry in this amazing RJ Scott series, I find nothing sexier than men who care for kids, be it their own, a nIece/nephew, sibling, or any number of found family scenarios. Once again, Miss Scott did not disappoint.
In Miracle we see not only a single dad but also a man who stepped up and raised his siblings after losing their parents in a plane crash, and to complete the trifecta, the single dad also finds a package on his doorstep in the form of his long-lost twin's little boy, Charlie. I seriously think my heart exploded with all the yummy feels.
As much as I adored all the caring-for-kids feels in Miracle what really stood out was the fact that one of the men was a "bit soft in the middle". Arlo is an active man who just doesn't happen to have the too-often-used-in-fiction six pack. For me it's that "average-ness" of the character that pushes this series entry from great to brilliant.
Another thing about Arlo that really spoke to me was how his brothers see what he did as sacrificing his happiness and future to fill their parents shoes after their passing but to Arlo it was never about sacrificing or duty. He wanted to keep them together, would he have given anything to not be in that position with their parents untimely death? Of course, but he never saw it as giving anything up. As an only child and my mom's 24/7 caregiver, I've had people think I sacrificed my wants and needs but I have never felt that way, not once in the 30 years since I stepped into the caregiver role, I never felt it was a duty either, it was and still is where I want to be and like Arlo I'd give anything for my mom not to need me but knowing what I do keeps my parents together in their own home is more than enough to know I am where I need to be and RJ Scott does a wonderful job showing both sides of those thoughts through Arlo and his brothers interactions with Jax. A small moment in the men's journey in terms of page time but a huge factor for this reader. So for that, another huge Kudos and Thank You to RJ Scott.
There is just so much love in this story, from family to friends, to finding the courage to open your heart, Miracle really is all about the love.
Pride #6
Chapter 1
Last week
After seeing every hour in the night, I’d banked no more than thirty minutes of decent sleep, every muscle ached, and my head hurt like a mother. The last thing I wanted today was to have to deal with lawyers, but there was too much at stake for me to fuck this up. I was early for the ten a.m. meeting—nervous as a racing driver with an engine fire—so I found a coffee shop within viewing distance of the office building that was home to Newman, Granda, and Lewis on the eighth floor. In downtown LA, it was impossible to walk twenty yards without tripping over the A-board of some artisan caffeine distributor claiming they served the best coffee in the city, and this one came with views of the 777 Tower as it soared to the sky.
Everything here made me feel small. I researched everything I could, and I fought for the right to be in my daughter’s life, and I hated feeling small.
God, I need caffeine.
“Logan? Coffee for Logan?” the barista called my name.
I stepped out from where I’d been hiding behind the unit displaying an artistically arranged set of mugs in what Millie’s Coffee Emporium called the Hollywood collection. Given we were miles from anything like the celebrity homes tourist trail in the hills, I thought Millie’s marketing was misguided, but who was I to comment. I might live and work in LA, but Echo Park was a long way from Hollywood. Instead of tourists, Millie’s was full of businesspeople who discussed everything from selling to buying in loud voices, and I’d yet to spot a single tourist; so, there was me, sticking out like a sore thumb.
I found a quiet corner with a view of the glass tower where the meeting would be held, and sipped my coffee, wishing for a distraction and damn thankful when my cell vibrated with a text.
Everything okay?
It was from Tudor Barrera, former boss, friend, pseudo dad, who would be waiting for me to tell him the meeting went well, as it usually did, but he was jumping the gun asking me too early.
Too early yet. Just got coffee.
I saw the dots dancing, and wondered what the comment would be.
Give ’em hell.
I snorted a laugh and sent back a simple LOL, but as I typed, I noticed a stubborn speck of oil down the side of my thumb, which had remained despite my best efforts to clean my hands. A mechanic was never truly clean of the sweat of honest work, of the oil and scent of leather and exhaust, although I picked at the spot as I finished my coffee just to see if I could clean it off, then pulled out the letter I’d received to read it one more time.
It was a non-specific, generic, letter-headed missive to attend a meeting regarding Cassidy’s welfare—something we’d done before, and nothing unusual. I had my daughter every other weekend, a precious forty-eight hours from the end of the school day on Friday to Sunday afternoon, but maybe Izzy wanted more time with her new husband and his family? Maybe after today, I could have Cassidy—the six-year-old, precocious, smiling, sunshine, center of my world—for more time.
I couldn’t avoid this thing any longer and headed out to the sixty-story glass building that housed the offices of Newman, Granda, and Lewis. After a warm welcome from the receptionist, I accepted another coffee with an undisguised enthusiasm that made her smile.
“Please take a seat in the family room.” She opened the door to a space off the main corridor, and her polite expression never slipped once, even if she had seen, as I guessed, the rough that I couldn’t hide. Then again, this was LA. I bet she’d seen some things, from actors and rock stars to sports heroes. Maybe she thought I had celebrity money and had chosen to wear an old suit and even older shoes, or maybe she’d just been trained to be welcoming.
“Thank you,” I said with a smile, which I was sure was little more than a grimace.
“You’re welcome. Mr. Granda will be starting the meeting shortly, and I will come to find you.”
My chest was tight, and I didn’t want to be here where I didn’t belong. I was thirty-one years old, responsible, owning and running a company. Hell, I even had a 401k. Still, I tugged down the sleeves of my shirt on instinct, and winced when I realized what I’d done.
Protection mode activated.
“Thank you, again,” I managed.
“Do you need anything?”
“Not to be here?” I quipped.
She offered me a soft smile that was probably meant to be reassuring.
I don’t feel reassured.
She pulled the door closed, and then it was just me with coffee, pacing the six-by-six room with its plush sofa and conspicuous lack of windows. I didn’t like small spaces at the best of times, or the feeling of being trapped, so I opened the door a little and hoped to God this would be over soon so I could get back to the garage.
I’d tried calling Izzy last night to suggest we didn’t need to meet so often—time was money. Only, it was a very polite Parker, aka her new husband, who’d answered the phone even thought I don’t like the guy, he was so damned reasonable that my piss and vinegar attitude had melted, and I found myself thanking him for taking the call, unsure how he’d encouraged me to reach that decision. I hated that he’d somehow gaslit me into feeling bad for wanting to talk to the mother of my daughter, but I couldn’t focus on that now. Did all rich people go somewhere to learn these let’s-be-reasonable techniques, or was I just out of my freaking depth? Probably the latter.
I was Izzy’s dad. I made smiley pancakes, and built Lego, and played tea parties, and loved her with every breath in my body. I may have had a complicated past, detailed in the tattoos etched on my skin, but I could teach Cassidy things Izzy never could. I knew how to stand up for myself, I knew how to strip and rebuild a beautiful lady of a ’66 Thunderbird until she purred like a kitten, or more likely, growled like a tiger. I knew the things Cassidy loved.
“I’m okay,” I muttered to the room.
“Talking to yourself, Logan?” Izzy said from the doorway.
I spun to face her as she slipped inside and shut us in. I felt trapped, but she hadn’t closed the door on purpose because she didn’t know I was claustrophobic. Hell, she didn’t know a tenth of the things about me that’d make her stop and think before shutting us into this small room. She floated in on a cloud of perfume, her ivory skin flawless, every hair in place, and jewelry that would keep the garage afloat for years around her neck, in her earlobes, and weighing down her hands. I’d never have gone out of my way to go with a high-class girl like her, but she’d gone out of hers to find a bad boy. I couldn’t even regret that night, or the joyride in a stolen car, or the arrest, or everything after that… because out of all of it came Cassidy.
And she was every good part of me. She was everything.
“Izzy,” I acknowledged.
“Isabel,” she corrected, and fiddled with the handle of her purse. “Parker suggested that I talk to you alone before we reconsider the custody arrangement—”
“Which was made official with a court order two years ago,” I interrupted. “So, if we’re here to discuss me having Cassidy for more time, then I can agree to that without spending money on lawyers.” Money that I don’t have.
“Logan, stop.” She held up a hand, and I saw the French-polished nails—she used to wear her nails longer, painted them scarlet, but this wasn’t the Izzy I’d known oh so briefly, this was the new, improved Isabel, who wanted to slot back into the world she’d once tried to escape with her walk on the wild side. “It’s not that.”
“So, if you don’t need me to take her for more time, then what are we doing here?”
“Parker has been offered a long-term role within his family’s bank in Europe. Switzerland, to be exact.” She used words, but the rushing sound in my ears meant I couldn’t string them together in any order. Panic gripped my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Switzerland? That meant…
They want to take Cassidy.
“No,” I managed. “No.”
“Think of the opportunities—”
“No.”
“Please be reasonable—”
“You’re not taking our daughter to goddamned Switzerland.”
She winced at the harsh words, but I wasn’t going to be manipulated into thinking I was wrong in my reaction. How in God’s name would I see her? Would she fly back? Would I go there? How could I go there? Izzy was still speaking in that low, wheedling tone that reminded me of Parker, as if she had the right to stand there and rip my life apart.
“It might only be for two or three years, and we think it would be best—”
“No.”
Izzy’s lips thinned, her brown eyes flashing with temper, and that was the first glimpse of the old Izzy I’d seen in a long time. She’d been such a firebrand back in the day, a party girl, out for fun, and I’d witnessed the real temper in her, and I could handle that Izzy, the one who let emotions rule her head.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself, then placed her purse on the sofa, taking that time to get her thoughts straight. I could see the temper ebb and then disappear—ice replaced the heat—and my heart skipped a beat.
“Parker has suggested that Cassidy spend an entire four weeks in the summer with you and it makes sense because you’ll have quality time with her instead of four days or so every month. He knows the costs of flying may well be out of your reach, but he said he’ll cover the cost of a reasonable amount of flights.” She tilted her chin.
Fuck that. I could be just as stubborn.
“And I counter propose that Cassidy remain with me every other weekend, as per the legal agreement we reached, because there’s no way in hell you’re taking her to Switzerland.”
“You have to be reasonable.”
“‘Reasonable’ was me agreeing to only having her every other weekend because it was best for her to be with her mom. Her mom, Izzy! Not your new husband, who talks as if he knows what’s best for everyone just because he has money!”
She pursed her lips, and I could imagine her brain working out what valid point she had to make this a deal I’d agree to. “What about the garage?”
“What about it?” I owned it. It was profitable. Respected.
“Every time she comes home, she’s filthy with oil and her hair is a tangled mess. Do you really think the garage is a suitable place for her to spend time?”
Jesus. How did I defend that? I ran a place where curses were punctuation, where I worked from six in the morning till eight at night, sometimes even later. Objectively, not all my staff could be considered as good, wholesome people to be around a kid. Enzo had a record, Robbie wasn’t using his real name and I knew little about his background, not to mention Rio and Jamie, both of whom had only just gotten out of prison. We were a rough and ready crew, covered in oil, stinking of gas and exhaust, and yeah, there was nothing clean about my work or my life. But Cassidy loved spending time at Redcars Automotive—she thrived on spending time there—and everyone loved her right back.
“She’s happy. She loves the cars, and the guys, and they love her. You know that, so don’t start with that.”
“Parker said you’d be like this,” she snapped.
I saw red. Fuck Parker.
“So, in your plans, I miss her November birthday, and next year a seven-year-old turns up at my place, and we spend precious weeks just getting to know each other again, and then you swoop in to take her away again. Right?”
“Logan—”
“But then she turns eight, and nine, and soon she’s a teenager, and I’m just some random guy she has to spend time with every summer. Every year, my relationship with her is eroded by absence. It’s not happening.”
“Logan, please—”
“I know my rights; we have an agreement, and you’re not taking my daughter overseas.”
Izzy stiffened at what she likely perceived as a threat, but I wasn’t threatening her. I respected her as the mother of my child. Hell, I owed her for even telling me I was a father when she didn’t have to, but I was ready to fight to be a part of my daughter’s life.
“Logan… listen to me.” She stepped closer and placed a hand flat on my chest, and I got an up-close look at her face, her brown eyes bright with emotion. This wasn’t the Izzy I had lusted after, this wasn’t the Izzy from my past, this was some painted doll who stood there and demanded things of me that I could never agree to. “Don’t make this about what you lose,” she encouraged. “Make this about all the opportunities Cassidy will get in life.”
The fuck? “She needs her dad, and if you think I’m going to stand by and—”
“Maybe I used to think it was a good idea for you to be part of her life, but now…”
“What’s changed, Izzy? I thought we were doing okay.” I pleaded with her, but she glanced behind herself at the door, and seemed confused for a moment. What in the hell was going on? Was Izzy okay? She was pale, and the unforgiving light in the ceiling highlighted the anxiety in her expression. “Are you okay? Can I help with—”
“You’re a criminal,” Izzy snapped, and the temperature in the room fell a few degrees.
My sudden swell of sympathy at her confusion vanished in an instant. “I was,” I said. “You knew that when you wanted the bad boy.”
She went scarlet and couldn’t meet my gaze. “You stole cars, you have a criminal record—”
“Yeah, but when you got caught coming along for the ride, you had a daddy who could pay off the cops.”
“Your face scares Cassidy!” she pointed at the scar running from my eye to my lip.
I tapped it, and she winced. “This? Cassidy doesn’t care about my fucking scar,” I snapped.
She spluttered. “And you curse!”
“Never in front of Cass, so fuck you.”
We were toe to toe, and finally, everything heated up, her eyes brightened with emotion, and she took a step back. “And you spent time on the streets, doing God knows what.” She whispered as if she couldn’t bring herself to shout at me, knowing she was pulling on threads that should be left untouched.
“Surviving.” I knew I sounded tired. “Trying to stay alive. That’s what I was doing on the street, not that that meant much to you, but then, not all of us had Mommy and Daddy to run back to.” I knew the barb hit home when she winced, and that wasn’t me anymore. I didn’t want to stand here and hurt her; I just wanted her to realize that I was Cassidy’s daddy. I inhaled, then shook my head. “This isn’t you talking. This is Parker. I’m not doing this with you, and I will fight you every step of the way.”
“With what money? Parker said—”
“Parker said what? That I can’t afford a lawyer to fight this? That he’s won because of that. Fuck, I don’t need a lawyer anymore, I know my rights. We did the court thing. I got partial custody, end of story.”
She straightened the jacket of her scarlet suit, then picked up her purse. “Then there’s nothing more to say.”
I held her arm, and she let out a pained noise, and even though I hadn’t been holding that hard, I let go. “If the Izzy I remember is still in there, then she knows I’m a good dad. Please find that Izzy, and don’t try to take Cassidy away from me. I don’t want to have to go to court. I won’t let you do that to me and Cass.”
“Are you threatening me?” she snapped.
“What? No. Of course, not. I’m freaking pleading with you.”
She paused with her fingers on the handle, but she didn’t turn to face me. “I’m sorry, Logan, but Parker’s family is not willing to back down on sending us there.”
“I won’t lose Cassidy. I will fight this,” I said and left no room for discussion.
The only indication she’d heard was the stiffening of her shoulders. “Parker will use everything he has to make sure you lose,” she murmured, then she glanced back at me, her lips trembling, real tears brightening her eyes. “I’m sorry. You can’t fight him on this, you should just accept what happens.”
“‘Him’?” I softened at her tears. I was a sucker for tears. “What about you?”
For a moment, I thought we’d connected, and then she blinked away the emotion and turned back to the door. “You can’t stop him.”
“Then you stop him.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
She met my question with a tilt of her chin, and I thought I might get honesty from her. “I won’t,” she said, then left the room.
I wanted to leave—turn around and walk out of the high-rise and ignore this meeting, but if I did it was something Izzy and her new husband could use against me.
My heart ached; I felt sick; and there was no air in this room. I was in a world I didn’t understand, but I refused to fall back on my destructive, self-doubting behavior, and be who they expected me to be.
Shoulders back, I stalked past the receptionist to the exit.
“Sir?” she asked.
“I’m leaving!” I snapped at her, then stopped and turned back. “Sorry, that was rude. I can’t… I just… can’t…”
“It’s okay, sir, I’ll let them know.” She gave me an apologetic half smile—didn’t stare at me, my clothes, my tattoos, or my scar—then nodded as I left.
I’m Cassidy’s daddy. Not Parker with his money and his lawyers—me.
And they can’t change that.
However hard they try.
Miracle #7
“No… mumble…” he cursed again.
This time, I tugged on his leg to get him out of the cupboard. “Out!”
He unfolded himself from where he’d been lying and propped himself up on his elbows. There was a smudge of paint over his left eyebrow, the same snowy white as the streaks in his steel gray hair. He was only thirty, but like his dad, his dark hair had lightened to salt and pepper when he hit puberty. His gray was as much part of him as his gorgeous eyes, and yes, I stared at him a lot.
When he wasn’t looking of course.
“What were you trying to say in there? Did you find something?”
“No.”
I sighed with relief. “So, what was all the mumbling about?”
“I can’t come over tonight,” he admitted, and couldn’t quite meet my gaze.
“What? Why?”
Wait, could I even ask that question? That wasn’t the kind of thing a boss asks the man who works for him, right? Arlo was under no obligation to spend time with me, but on the weekends when I didn’t have my girls staying, he would always come to my place on a Friday. We’d have beer, and he’d stay over in my spare room after we’d talked until late.
It was our thing.
“Are you okay?” I placed a hand on his knee to let him know I was there for him. He moved his knee, shrugged my touch away, and I wasn’t stupid, there was something off about all of this. “Are you ill? Shit, is something wrong with one of your brothers?”
“No, and no.” Arlo shimmied up, then leaned against the sink cupboard. “It’s just, I have this thing.”
“What thing?”
He stared at me and seemed to be steeling himself to give me bad news, so I sat my ass on the floor and crossed my legs. It couldn’t be too awful because, yes, he seemed distracted, but not completely miserable, so my first guess was it had something to do with his brothers—they were the only reason he’d skip what had become our regular thing. Although, why would any of that affect our standing date-slash-non-date, I didn’t know.
“What thing?” I repeated and poked him to encourage a smile.
He wouldn’t quite meet my gaze, and again, he moved away from my touch. That never happened—Arlo was a big cuddle monster, a soft bear of a man who was tactile and open with his feelings. His heart was so pure, so freaking full of love that sometimes, he couldn’t even contain it and would hug me so hard I couldn’t breathe.
He bit his lip, a typical Arlo habit when he was stressed. This was at odds with him saying everything was okay.
“Ihaveadate,” he blurted in one long run-on sentence, then dipped his gaze, and I swear his face was scarlet.
I slowed down the words to parse their meaning.
I. Have. A. Date.
“You’ve got a what now?” I asked after a pause; not sure I was hearing right.
He cleared his throat and, at last, held my gaze. For a moment, I was lost in watching him tug at his gray hair and seeing the uncertainty and nerves in his intriguing gray eyes. “A date,” he repeated in a softer almost apologetic tone.
Of all the things he could tell me, why was it something that was going to make me spin out?
Since when did Arlo date? He’d told me point-blank that being responsible for his two younger brothers, plus working for me, was enough without contemplating dating. I’d taken that at face value and almost settled into that sweet spot where we could be friends and I could lust from afar, ignoring the unrequited everything I had going on.
The last thing he needed, or should expect, was for me to ask why he was going on a date. Don’t ask. Don’t freaking ask.
“Why?” Shit. I couldn’t help myself.
He shot me one of his affectionate, patient smiles. One of the cute ones that made his eyes sparkle with mischief. Or something.
“Just because…” He sighed. “Sutton left for college, and now… I’m ready to move on. I need to date.” He stared at me.
I tried to read his expression and the determination in his tone. “Date,” I repeated.
A familiar smile teased his lips. “Trace downloaded this app thing, and I swished or swiped or whatever, and then, someone matched me, so I’m meeting this guy called Wilton tonight.” In one sentence, he threw open all my tightly checked emotions and ripped apart my ordered world.
Apparently, he was ready to date.
Date other people.
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
