Tymber Dalton
Coffeeshop Coven Prequel
It’s a Sweet Life
Libbie Addams has a mortgage on her struggling bakery, no love life, no health insurance…and fibromyalgia. She's worried about making ends meet when two hunks show up to rent her extra apartment. Not only do cousins Ken Dougherty and Charles Stackhouse make her money worries disappear, they offer to help out in their spare time.
They also make her panties damp. Too bad they're gay, but they’re great eye candy.
The men have a secret—they're not gay cousins. They're twin brothers hiding from a vengeful mob boss. Charles is Allan Donohue, a prosecutor with the State Attorney's office in Miami. Benjamin Donohue is the undercover detective who helped break the case wide open. Now they're marked for death.
They hope their ruse can keep them, and Libbie, safe. Because now that they've fallen in love with the delicious baker, they’ll never let her go. But when vengeance comes calling, will they ever get to enjoy their sweet life together?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Genre:
Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length:
76,940 words
Coffeeshop Coven Prequel
Tymber Dalton
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
IT’S A SWEET LIFE
Copyright © 2013 by Tymber Dalton
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-468-9
First E-book Publication: February 2013
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of
It’s a Sweet Life
by Tymber Dalton from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Tymber Dalton’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Dalton’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
To Hubby, for all the love and patience and support he’s given me throughout the years while helping me through life’s ups and downs. And to Mr. B, especially the patience part.
To Cooper McKenzie, my bud, and whose name I threw around in vain (in a good way) in this book. And to fellow hooker (no, not THAT kind of hooker, the kind that plays with yarn) Mia Downing. (No, I won’t put the “bitch” in all caps. Sorry. LOL *HUGS*)
Special thanks to my friend Christine for bakery questions. Any errors are mine, not hers. (And I’ll blame errors on fibro fog. LOL)
As some of you already know, I am a member of the fibromyalgia “club.” With a dual diagnosis of chronic fatigue syndrome on top of that, and arthritis to boot, it can sometimes make life…interesting. I didn’t have to stretch my imagination far to write the health issues the heroine in this tale goes through. I simply wrote from my own experiences, sometimes at the same time while I was writing this book.
It’s very hard to describe how frustrating it is to go from being someone who could easily pull an all-nighter, a “get shit done” kind of gal, to someone who, on some days, feels like they can barely get out of bed. I don’t “look” sick. And yes, I have plenty of good days, fortunately. But there are the days where simply walking through the grocery store can put me back to bed for the rest of the day.
Or suffering through bouts of “word salad” that sometimes accompany the condition called fibro fog, leaving me grasping for a word I know I should know and unable to think of it. Hubby and I even have a system where if I get stuck, he waits to start tossing words at me until I start pantomiming and gesturing at him that I’m really and truly stuck. Sometimes, a well-meaning person trying to help can make the issue worse as my frustration grows if they try to offer me words too soon when I’m still struggling to put a sentence together.
As you can imagine, that can be a particularly vexing symptom for a writer who makes their living slinging words. Fortunately, it seems to happen most verbally and not when I’m actually sitting at my laptop. Although I do keep my trusty
Roget’s Thesaurus
close at hand for when I’m at a loss for a word. In the writing of this manuscript, it took me three different searches to finally remember the word I wanted to use in the Walmart scene was “dysfunctional.” (Yes, there is a certain irony to that which I can appreciate all too well.)
I’m not looking for sympathy, and neither are most sufferers of this condition. I know I’m lucky to have an incredible support system combined with a job that allows me to sit at home in my pj’s all day. And it’s not any more terminal a condition than life already is to start with. But what I, and other fibro patients, are usually looking for is patience and understanding. That it’s not in our heads. That we’re not lazy or trying to get out of doing things. That putting others before ourselves can, literally, be hazardous to our health in some cases. That we might need to beg off plans at the last minute even though we don’t “look sick” because our energy plug got yanked out of the wall on us. And while we might have been in great shape the day before (or even the morning of) an event, that doesn’t mean fibro won’t wave its wand and put us on our ass in the space of a few minutes. That instead of belittling us for what someone might perceive as laziness you offer an understanding ear and not try to guilt us into doing something we will pay for later in terms of our “spoon usage.”
Yes, believe me, it frustrates the crap out of us, too. Most of us would give anything to be able to get to our pre-fibro (or pre-whatever) energy levels.
What are spoons? Please take the time to read “The Spoon Theory” by Christine Miserandino. It applies not only to fibromyalgia patients, but anyone with a chronic condition or disability that saps strength and energy.
(http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/)
If you feel you might have fibromyalgia, please do your research and talk with your health care provider regarding treatment options. Pain, fibro fog, and fatigue are just some of the most common symptoms of this complex disorder. There are various regimens, both prescription and homeopathic, that can help relieve some of your symptoms and make life more manageable.
This is the prequel to my new Coffeeshop Coven series, centered around the Many Blessings New Age shop. If you want to know more about the backstory of Many Blessings, including what happened to the former owner, Julie, please read my book
Out of the Darkness
(available from Siren-BookStrand). Related characters also appear in my book
Red Tide
(Siren-BookStrand).
And there really is such a deck as the
Celtic Dragon Tarot
. It’s published by Llewellyn Publications, and it’s the first deck I cut my teeth on. It’s a beautiful deck that I highly recommend.
The town of Brooksville, Florida, does exist, although I’ve taken a little literary license with some of its geography to suit my own purposes.
IT’S A SWEET LIFE
Coffeeshop Coven Prequel
TYMBER DALTON
Copyright © 2013
Not now. Please, not now.
She slowly rubbed her hands together, wincing over the pain that shot through her knuckles at the motion. Experience told her even soaking them in warm water wouldn’t completely soothe the pain and stiffness away when they felt like this.
It was seven o’clock Thursday evening. With only half of the Palmer wedding order finished, she still had a good six hours of work ahead of her to have everything ready for Friday morning pickup as ordered.
Six hours
if
I’m lucky.
She burst into tears as she stared at the table full of cupcakes awaiting finishing touches. If she didn’t deliver this job on time, or if she delivered it subpar, the well-connected Palmer family could ruin her reputation and the small bakery, It’s a Sweet Life, that she’d struggled so hard to build.
LacieBelle Addams—Libbie to her friends and family—leaned against the large stainless double fridge and slid down it with her hands cradled in her lap and wrapped in her flour-covered apron. The pain was the worst it had been in months.
That was where she still sat ten minutes later when Grover Johnson, her part-time helper and lifelong friend, came in and found her.
Tsking
as he shook his head, the large black man walked over to her and slowly lowered his considerable bulk to the floor next to her. He wrapped a meaty arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Lord, child. Don’t you think it’s ’bout time you went to see Doc Smith?”
She settled her head into his lap, her tears renewing. “I can’t, Grover. I don’t have the money or the time.”