For those of you who’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know I’ve been hard at work on the re-release of A Good Man, Handymen 1, and I expect to be able to share a brand new cover with you soon. My Handymen series is coming to Totally Bound Publishing this year, with book 2 releasing in the fall. A Good Man has been re-edited and I’m really proud of the journey this book has taken. Stay tuned for more!
A Good Man is set in my hometown of Toronto, Ontario, and you’ll get a lot of local flavour in this book and series. I’ve thrown in several references to some of my favourite spots in the city…including the Gibraltar Point Lighthouse!
Located on the Toronto Islands, this lighthouse dates from 1808. In fact, it is the oldest existing lighthouse on the Great Lakes. It’s best known for the ghost story that has surrounded it for years. The ghost in this case is reputed to be John Paul Radelmüller, it’s first keeper. According to local legend, the poor lighthouse keeper was murdered by two drunken soldiers from Fort York who’d come in search of his stash of bootlegged beer. When Radelmüller wouldn’t give them any, a fight broke out and they killed him, hiding his body somewhere on the site. There are various versions of the legend, but many Torontonians will tell you the lighthouse is haunted by its first keeper to this day.
Personally, I’ve always thought so. As a child, I would visit the Toronto Islands with my family, and always hoped to get a glimpse of poor old J.P. So far, he has eluded me, but I always look for him when I go to the Islands. I couldn’t resist using this spot as one of the settings in the book, although I can assure you A Good Man is not a ghost story. It’s romance, all the way.
(all photos are my own)
A Good Man will be up for preorder April 28 and general release will be June 9.
Here’s an excerpt:
Emily threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his torso, cutting off his words and his breath. Only when he hugged her back did he realize how hard she was quivering.
She wasn’t just crying about the old photos.
“It’s okay, Em. Let it out, sweetheart.”
The collar of his shirt grew wet but he didn’t care. Wardrobe had tons of shirts. Besides, she felt good in his arms, all soft and warm. He rubbed her shoulders and the back of her waist, exploring and familiarizing himself with her luscious body. He breathed, drinking in her scent. His nasal cavities had never known such bliss. It was like that first clear breath after a long period of congestion. His fingers were pretty happy too, enjoying the give of her body. It was all he could do not to slide them down, cup her sweet ass and pull her up against him.
Just not while she was crying over another man.
She lingered in his arms and he did nothing to push her away. In fact, it surprised him how badly he wanted to keep her there, so much so that when Emily finally extricated herself, he wanted to pull her back into his embrace. Instead, he wiped her cheeks clean of the remaining tears.
“The makeup ladies are going to kill me for making you cry.”
It might have been his imagination, but her tears made her eyes appear even greener. In fact, her entire face seemed a riot of tempting color. Each shade called to him. The crushed roses in her cheeks. Her strawberry lips, so plump and moist. Even the doeskin brown of her freckles fascinated him to no end. He wanted to count them, to kiss and mark them all.
Kissing her made a whole lot of sense right now. Kissing her senseless seemed even better.
Emily’s eyes widened. Her lips parted in invitation. Michael paused, knowing it was wrong, even though every raised hair on his arms told him it was right.
As he debated with himself for a split second, she brushed her lips against his. It was quick and soft, hunger masquerading as something platonic. Even though a spectator might have called it a friendly kiss, he knew the truth. As brief as it may have been, he felt her yield to him, even if just a little.
From the startled look in her eyes, Emily knew it too.
She took a step back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re right. I should have been the one to do it.” Michael licked his lips. “Your lips really do taste like strawberries.”
“Michael, I can’t.”
“I think you just did.”
“You know what I mean.” She waved her hand between their two torsos. “This. I can’t do this.”
“What? Point at my chest?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Maybe a little. Listen, Em, I understand. As unexpected as that kiss was, as much as I want to taste your lips again, I know it’s too soon.”
“It’s too much, too soon.”
He reached for her hand. “I get it. It’s okay.”
“Thank you.”
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t be spending all my waking hours waiting for the moment I can make it happen again.”
“Michael.”
“Don’t worry. I’d never force the matter. Besides, I enjoyed having you thrust yourself at me.”
“Are you ever going to let me live it down?”
“Not in this century, sweetheart.”
Rosanna Leo 