Back to Life

K.T. Bond

Description

It’s kismet … their journey back to love begins with a stumble and a save.


Karen Mullings isn’t in the market for love when she relocates from the States to England. She successfully avoids relationships while she gets her life and her heart back in order, until she meets the hand-some Dutchman Peter van der Meulen. His gentle, quiet spirit, his intelli-gence, his romantic nature, not to mention the heat that grows between them, break down the walls she has erected around herself.


A widower of four years, Peter doesn’t expect that an acci-dental encounter in an Amsterdam hotel will introduce him to the wom-an who will reawaken his heart. But from the moment Karen bumps into him, Peter is hooked. Over the next few months, he finds ways to keep her close while he opens his heart to love again.

Sujets

• Romance
• Romance multiculturelle
• Suggestif
• Fiction
• Interracial
• Multicultural

Informations

• Publié par: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
• Date de parution: 16 décembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781644504208
• Langue: English

Extrait

Table o f Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
EPILOGUE





Back to Life
Serendipity Serie s Book 1
Copyright © 2021 KT Bond. All rights re served.


4 Horsemen Publicatio ns, Inc.
1497 Main St. S uite 169
Dunedin, FL 34698
4horsemenpublicat ions.com
info@4horsemenpublicat ions.com
Cover by Ron Perry Graphic Design, rperryde sign.com
Typesetting by Aut umn Skye
Editor C I Stearn
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is book is meant as a reference guide. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All brands, quotes, and cited work respectfully belongs to the original rights holders and bear no affiliation to the authors or pu blisher.
Library of Congress Control Number: 20 21948919
Print ISBN: 978-1-644 50-421-5
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-644 50-420-8
Audio ISBN: 978-1-644 50-419-2
DEDICATION
F or Maurits … you are, and have been since we first met, one of a very select group of people whom I am thrilled to call my dear friend. And you have been more than just my friend. We were English teachers together, you in your Dutch town, me in my American city, sharing our teaching and our writing lives. You have been a blessing and an inspiration to me. Thank you for all you do every day to show me that you believe in me and support me in all my endeavors. This first novel is for you, liefje , with my fondest thoughts.
And for Lloyd … my love always. Sleep in peace, big brother, until we meet again “ somewhere o ut there.”


ACKNO WLEDGMENTS
T his first novel might not have been possible if a friend hadn’t introduced me to Literotica.com, a site where I could post my erotic romances and still keep my own copyright. That site has opened doors for me that would have remained closed had I not begun there when I did. So, Bill, thank you for showing m e the way.
My friend Maurits is an actual Dutchman, and he ensured that the cultural and other Dutch references I made were accurate. He even taught me the few Dutch phrases I didn’t already know, the most important one being that for “ I love you.” I loved doing research with such an authentic source. You are as wonderful a cultural resource as you are a friend, M. Heel erg bedankt, mijn vriend . Thank you very much.
My beta readers spoke the truth to me about what needed adjusting, developing, or trashing. Ruby, as a published author in your own right, you’re an inspiration to me, young lady. I’m happy that we’re able to help each other in this way. You’ve read for me before, and I’ve always found your insights helpful. It’s always a delight to work with you.
Linda, you’re my sister from another mister … or whatever the right thing is to say about a sister soulmate whom I met five years ago at Yale University’s Writer’s Conference. It can’t be a coincidence that we were fellow educators, as well as sharing all the other points of similarity that have bound us to each other since that wonderful summer week, including now being writing partners. Thank you, dear one, for your fai th in me.
Then, much gratitude goes to my cover designer, who was my friend first. Ron, your creativity and professionalism are as stellar as your friendship. I appreciate you more than I can say, and I am looking forward to an epic publishing journey with you in my corner. Thank you, my friend.
Finally, to all those of you who have believed in me, have encouraged me, and have read my stories and wondered what I was waiting for to begin my journey, my warmest affection and gratitude. I wouldn’t be here now, feeling this buoyed up, this ready to go, were it not for you. And whatever happens with this first novel, I’m excited and thrilled to be able to do it with you all at my back.
And yes, Stephie, Mila and Bas are coming. :)


CHAPTER 1
I t had been a long day, and Karen Mullings was too tired to care much about where she ate. She just needed dinner and her bed. She walked into the hotel’s restaurant and waited to be seated. The table for two was in the quietest corner, which suited her just fine. Although she had happily embarked on this solo European tour, and though she had enjoyed every city she had stayed in, she still preferred to hide away at dinnertime. It was a little sad that a grown woman would be alone for dinner every day, though she had no pressing need of a companion. After three aborted marriage attempts to men with whom she had not been in sync, she was happy to be alone. However, she did feel her aloneness most sharply in the evenings, which was why she more often than not called room service f or dinner.
Today, however, she knew if she went up to her room, she would fall asleep without eating, and when she woke, both the restaurant and room service would be unavailable. So, she ordered the house special for the evening and a glass of red wine, and stretched her feet out under the table, letting the peace and quiet soak into her bones. After swallowing almost the whole glass of water thoughtfully provided for her, she hurried to the ladie s ’ room.  
On the way out, she bumped into someone going in the opposite direction, almost falling over. Only his quick hands and steady feet kept her on her own. The arm around her, dangerously close to her bottom, was hard and muscled, his grip strong and sure at her waist.  The man’s shoulders were wide, and he was taller than she was by a good six inches. His eyes were the prettiest blue she had ever seen, reminding her of the Caribbean Sea on a hot s ummer day.
“ I … I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, pulling herself up to her full height and looking up at the stranger.
His full lips smiled at her, and his dimpled cheeks surprised her. “ That’s okay. I’m glad to help. Are you all ri ght now?” 
He withdrew his hand from her back. They were hard, manly hands, long-fingered and heavily veined. She felt the loss immediately. It made no sense to feel that way, and it dist urbed her.
“ Yes, I’m fine. Tha nk you!”  
She smiled in her turn and excused herself, hurrying back to her table. The food, when it was served, was hot, filling, and delicious as usual. She was glad of something to take her mind off the still unsettling encounter with the handsome, blue-eyed man outside the restroom. She savored a second glass of wine in lieu of dessert, then went to pay her bill. As she turned toward the elevators, her mystery encounter rounded the corner and their eyes met for the second time. Something like an electric charge shot up her arms and settled in her chest. He flashed those shocking dimples again, acknowledging her with a nod before walking out through the wide glass doors with his companions, two women and another man. She went up to her room in a daze.
After a hot shower, during which she tried to escape the thoughts of the dark-haired stranger with the sexy mouth and husky voice, she rubbed lotion into her skin and crawled into bed. She had enjoyed her day out and about in Amsterdam but was now thoroughly exhausted and hoped she would sleep undisturbed. Tomorrow, she would be visiting the Oude Kerk and the Dam Plein, and she knew she would need reserves of energy for the long walking and stand ing about.
Sometime during the night she awoke, shaking and wet. Then the dream came crashing in on her waking mind. She had been dreaming about the smiling stranger and the way his large man’s hands had brought her such pleasure while his dimples beamed at her. She rushed from the bed to the bathroom to relieve herself, hoping she could escape from the eroticism of it. Her relationships had all failed, even when she had thought she loved the men involved. Her heart had been bruised one too many times, so she was very wary of men and mistrusted her feelings for them on principle. To dream about a perfect stranger as she had done was unprecedented and extremely unsettling, even though she was very aware of her allure. When she did trust men, though, she was very willing to share the depth and breadth of her passion with them. She just needed a break, a chance to catch herself before she tried again. She took a glass of water with her back to bed and flipped through the TV channels until she found some mindless comedy to occupy her so that she grew drowsy again and fell back on he r pillows.
Almost two hours away in Leeuwarden, Peter van der Meulen sipped a second glass of brandy and stared into the fireplace.  He had not been able to get the woman in the restaurant out of his mind. That brief contact had fired his imagination and his desires like nothing else had in years, not since the earliest days with Alijd, who had died four years before after twenty years of marriage. The woman was everything Alijd had not been. She had been wearing jeans and a loose shirt with a scoop neckline, so Peter got a good up-close view of her chest. She looked to be about late thirties with beautiful brown eyes, a bright ravishing smile, nice long legs, and delicious-looking breasts. She was a little plump, which w