Reader's Edyn: Blitz: Falling for the Innkeeper by Meghann Whistler + GIVEAWAY

**Falling for the Innkeeper by Meghann Whistler**

Good Morning, Everyone! So thrilled to see you all today! Today I am featuring another new-to-me author and her book! I love discovering new authors, so I am just as eager to find out more about this book! Please allow me to feature on the blog Meghann Whistler and her latest release, FALLING FOR THE INNKEEPER … Plus, a GIVEAWAY!

**MEGHANN WHISTLER**

**BIO**

Meghann Whistler writes sweet Christian romance novels that WON'T make your grandmother blush.

A hopeless romantic who met her husband on a blind date, Meghann recently left her marketing career to pursue her lifelong passion of writing sweet, inspirational stories that demonstrate the power of love and grace.

Before settling down with her rocket scientist husband and raising three rambunctious boys, Meghann earned a B.A. in English from Amherst College and an M.F.A. in creative writing from Emerson College.

She loves to hear from her readers

To find out more about Ms. Whistler, please visit:

**FALLING FOR THE INNKEEPER**

Publication date: August 1, 2020

Publisher: Harlequin Love Inspired

Genres: Adult, Romance, Contemporary

**BLURB**

She’s the home he never expected to find.

A battle for a charming Cape Cod inn…
But what happens when romance checks in?

Single mom Laura Lessoway won’t accept her mother’s plan of selling her late grandmother’s inn without a fight. But when big-city attorney Jonathan Masters arrives to arrange an offer from his client, she’s drawn to him. And working together as he helps with repairs only brings them closer. With his career and her home on the line, can they ever find common ground?

**EXCERPT**

Jonathan Masters pulled up in front of The Sea Glass Inn, turned off his GPS and sighed. How had he gotten himself into this? He really didn’t want to intrude on a single mother and her young daughter right at dinnertime.

A sixth-year associate at Meyers, Suben & Roe, the top corporate law firm in Boston, Jonathan had left work early to drive to the sleepy Cape Cod town of Wychmere Bay to take care of some new business. This little inn wasn’t the new business, of course, but if he could ensure that Carberry Hotels acquired this prime piece of beachfront property, there was a good shot that the luxury hotel chain would hire Jonathan’s firm for all its legal needs.

And if Jonathan wanted to make partner, as his mentor, Mike Roe, had told him just a few nights ago, he needed to prove he was a closer.

“You’re smart, Masters,” Mike had said, “and a hard worker, but frankly, if that’s all you’ve got, you’re a dime a dozen.”

Although Jonathan generally took criticism well, that had hurt. In his experience, hard work always paid off. It’s what had earned him a scholarship to college and what had gotten him into Harvard Law. The idea that it might not be enough to get him a partnership was simply…unacceptable.

So, if Mike wanted him to bring in new business, Jonathan would bring in new business. Maybe he wasn’t particularly slick or practiced at glad-handing, but if that’s what it would take to earn a partnership, he’d learn. He had to.

He stepped out of the car and looked at the little inn. It was two stories high with gray cedar shingles, black window shutters and a hand-painted sign with its name—The Sea Glass Inn—hanging from a wooden post out front. In other words, quintessential Cape Cod.

He adjusted his tie and cuff links, the expensive ones he wore when he wanted to impress. Not that he expected a single mother to even notice his wardrobe. But it was like his battle armor. Look the part, play the part. Get. It. Done.

There were lights on inside the inn, which was a good sign. He left his suitcase in the car, took a deep breath, walked up the brick-lined path to the front door and knocked.

Almost immediately, the door swung open onto a deserted sitting room with a unique sea glass chandelier, and Jonathan was baffled for a split second until he glanced down and saw a dark-haired slip of a girl with a mischievous smile and gigantic green eyes. She was wearing white tights with purple stars, a pink tutu and—of all things—an itty-bitty Red Sox jersey. Plus, she was holding a couple of crumpled twenty-dollar bills in her hand.

Her big eyes went bigger as she focused on his face. “You’re not the pizza man,” she said, her words betraying just a tiny hint of a lisp.

“Nope.” He grinned and crouched down so he was eye level with her. “Not the pizza man.” He peered into the room behind her. “Is your mom around?”

“Emma, honey!” a woman called out, pushing her way through a set of swinging doors into the room. “I told you not to—” She stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Jonathan.

Although he was certain they’d never met—he’d have remembered a face like hers—the sense of familiarity he felt upon looking into her soft green eyes was jarring. Her clear, heart-shaped face was framed by thick dark hair that tumbled over her shoulders and down her back in waves. She was slender and dressed casually in jeans and a Red Sox sweatshirt. Although she had hardly a lick of makeup on her face, he was still almost dazzled by how beautiful she was.

He gave his head a small shake—don’t be an idiot!—straightened up and offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Jonathan Masters with Meyers, Suben & Roe. I spoke with your mother, Eleanor, earlier about staying here for a few days while we work out the terms of the deal.”

“You spoke with my mother…about a deal…?” The green-eyed beauty made no move to come closer and shake his hand.

Oh, man, Jonathan thought ruefully. He’d gotten the sense during his meeting with Eleanor Lessoway, this woman’s mother, that Eleanor might be a little flaky—rich, but flaky—but this was taking flakiness to new heights. He wasn’t just intruding on this woman and her daughter; he was ambushing them.

And he didn’t like it one bit.

They walked in silence for a moment, the jetty looming.

When they reached the start of it, Laura hopped lightly onto the rocks. “So, I never asked you. What kind of law do you practice? Real estate law?”

Jonathan shook his head. “Corporate law. Mergers, acquisitions, corporate governance, that kind of thing.”

She was fleet-footed, practically skipping from rock to rock. Jonathan followed, a little less certain of the path but determined not to fall behind. The boulders were damp and sandy, dried barnacles peppering the sides. She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. “And Carberry Hotels is one of your clients?”

She was beautiful. She was so beautiful. And underneath the teasing, sometimes tough-girl demeanor, she was sweet, too. Everyone they’d run into during their excursion into town last night had loved her. He couldn’t understand why men weren’t lining up around the block to sweep her off her feet. If he had time for a girlfriend, he’d absolutely be the first person in line.

“Connor Carberry is my friend,” he said. “This deal is like a test case. If it goes through, the whole hotel chain could become a client.”

She cocked her head to the side, considering. “Interesting.”

“So, what about you? When the sale goes through, will you go back to school? Learn web design or software coding?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

They’d reached the end of the jetty, where there was a small, unmanned lighthouse with a green light flashing from the cupola up top. A seagull dropped a crab on the rocks and swooped down to claim the meat from the shattered shell. Laura leaned back against the wall of the lighthouse, her hair wild around her face.

“What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

She gave him a teasing smile. “Tell me something about you no one else knows.”

They walked outside and Jonathan studied the neighboring restaurant. “Mr. G’s Diner,” he said, reading the sign. “What do they serve?”

“Irish-Indian fusion.”

He gaped at her. He looked…different this evening. He still wore his dress shirt, but no jacket and no tie. He’d left the top button open at his neck, and he looked less in control, somehow, less “master of the universe,” but also more relaxed. More free.

He was holding the bag with the dishwasher brush and the rattraps in his left hand. Laura had to admit that there was something kind of swoon-worthy about a man who knew how to take apart a dishwasher, and who wasn’t afraid to wrestle rats.

“That’s not a real thing, is it?” he asked. “Irish-Indian fusion?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s real. And pretty decent, actually.” Now that they were talking about food, she realized she was hungry.

“What’s on the menu? Curry meat loaf? Corned beef tikka masala?”

“Uh, no,” she said. “But come on. I can tell you want to try it.”

He made a face. “Is it wrong that I’m scared?”

She laughed. “Yes, Harvard. Man up. A little experimental cuisine won’t kill you.”

“Are you insulting my masculinity now?” he asked, lips twitching. He was clearly more amused than annoyed.

She gave him a friendly little pat on the arm. “There, there, Harvard. Your masculinity is fine.”

He snorted. “Just what every man wants to hear from a beautiful woman.”