Just how real is reality TV? Beth's about to find out!
Following her husband's sudden and tragic death, Beth Franklin finds solace on her couch, watching Dream House, a home improvement show—until she tires of the show's routine and writes in to the network, suggesting a plot twist.
When TV executives ask her to consider appearing on the show, she finds herself not only renovating a house but her own life when she and co-host, hottie Scott Roberts, hit it off.
With broken hearts in common, Beth and Scott take a risk on love, surprising not only themselves but the show's viewers, as well.
AMAZON // WILD ROSE PRESS
Hearing that voice in my ear and realizing Scott could physically be here—with me—brought back all the nerves from our first phone call. “So, you’d be here, um, here in my house?”
“That’s the plan—but only if it’s all right with you.”
Of course I wanted him here. I needed to recover fast and think of something that would explain the reservation in my voice. “It’s just that I’m not decorated.” Lame excuse, but it was true. I had no trimmings displayed to reflect the upcoming holiday.
“Decorated?” Scott sounded confused, and then scoffed, “Oh, for Christmas? Please, the less tacky the better is my motto. I can’t stand all the lights and novelties.”
I found my comfort level with him once again. “Then you’re coming to the right place.”
Nerves were replaced with enthusiasm as I ran around the house, straightening curtains, fluffing cushions, and checking expiration dates on various refrigerator items. An hour after our phone call, my bed resembled a teenager’s, strewn with cast-off clothes from desperate attempts to find the perfect outfit for the next day. I had settled on the best fitting pair of jeans I owned and a black cashmere turtleneck—then changed my mind. This time, for a different, positive reason.
It was time to stop hiding. Turtlenecks and the color black definitely constituted hiding mechanisms. I dug deep into my bottom drawer and resurrected a magenta V-neck. Satisfied with my bold choice, I finally climbed beneath the covers, weary from the effort, yet anxious for the morning. Scott, former television crush turned friend, was coming to my house.
And, hopefully, into my life.
I know it sounded crazy, but I felt like we’d really made a connection. He often told me he couldn’t wait to meet me in person. Believing he truly meant that statement carried me through the night. I closed my eyes and recalled his voice just before we hung up earlier.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Beth.”
About the Author
As the mother of three girls, Ally finds creating drama for her characters an escape from the real drama in her own home. Originally from Boston, she now lives with her husband and family outside Chicago and writes when not driving to practices and games.
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