Thelma’s Song by Afton
Locke
historical
romance/women’s fiction
Release Date: 19 November 2022
#BestSellingAuthor, #NewRelease, #VintageRomance,
#BWWMRomance
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BK715P93
https://books2read.com/u/mY8lzW
Blurb
His obsession with
profits reminds her of every man who used her, especially the one who shattered
her heart. Meanwhile, his grief over his daughter’s death intensifies when
restaurant renovations uncover a shocking secret. Reminding her of the child
she lost so long ago.
And as soon as
Oyster Harbor restores what Thelma has craved for so long, her dreams of family
are ripped away, turning her song of joy to the bluest of blues. Will Tom be
the answer to her prayers, or her biggest heartache yet?
Excerpt
Thelma’s Song - Copyright © Afton Locke, 2022
“Jean-Luc included a little bit of
everything. Maryland crab cakes, fried oysters, and bluefish, the catch of the
day.”
“Looks delicious. Where’s mine?”
Thelma asked.
He indicated his chair and headed
toward the doorway. “It’s all yours.”
She remained rooted to the floor,
feeling like the world’s biggest fool. “I-I thought we were going to eat
together.”
So much for making some friends
here.
“I’m too busy to eat during the
dinner rush, remember? Enjoy,” he said before closing the door.
For a moment, she stood glaring at
the plate of food with her arms crossed. Bastard. Still, she couldn’t
fault him on going back on his word. She’d gotten the stains out of his lousy
tablecloth, and, in return, he’d awarded her with the best meal on the house.
He’d merely stuck her in here out
of sight of the white diners, and he had better things to do than eat with her.
She stepped behind the desk and threw the roll at the door.
Men! Weren’t they all the
same?
No, at least Tom Lewes wasn’t the
type to exploit a woman sexually, thinking he could get away with it because
she was black. Cali had told her how Jonathan had made advances on her when
she’d worked as a cook for his family. Thelma didn’t even want a man, so why
did she care whether or not Tom showed any interest in her?
Next, she sat down and glared at
the meal. Her stomach rumbled.
I earned it. May as well eat my
reward, right?
She nudged aside the parsley
garnish with her fork and bit into the crab cake, amazed at how good it tasted.
Money had been tight in Baltimore, so seafood dinners had been few and far
between. By the time she worked her way to the fish, glazed with melted butter
and lemon, she nearly purred. To wash it down, she drained half the sweet tea.
Instead of bolting out of her
seat, she studied the room. Getting to know him without his presence. It would
serve him right if she snooped around. Why had the lout locked his desk? Did he
think she had sticky fingers?
The first thing she spotted was a
small picture on the corner of his desk. She’d been so full of hurt pride,
followed by a heavenly seafood coma, she hadn’t noticed it before. A
rosy-cheeked young woman with merry eyes and windblown
hair posed with him at the waterfront.
They both smiled as if they hadn’t
a care in the world. She must be Betty.
When the door opened, she expected
it to be Donna to clear the dishes. Instead, Tom entered. Why did he always
look so serious?
“How was it?” he asked, pointing
to the empty plate. “Did it meet your expectations?”
“The food exceeded them, but the
company was lacking.” She headed toward the doorway. “Thanks for the dinner.
I’ll be going.”
“I told you, I was busy earlier.”
Those intense green eyes held her in a trap stronger than a fish net. “You
look…nice.”
She must have gotten drunk off the
food because his mouth, usually a firm slash, held a hint of softness.
“Thank you.” Walk out. Stick to
the laundry. “Your daughter was very pretty.”
The frown returned. “How….? Oh,
you must have seen the picture. Those were happier times.”
Unable to help herself, she picked
it up, seeing a different girl in her place. “You must miss her terribly.”
“Yes.” He all but yanked it out of
her hand and set it back on the desk. “I should put it away.”
“I take it you were close?”
He turned away as color crept up
his neck and face.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Lewes. I didn’t
mean to pry.”
His gaze snapped back to her.
“Then don’t.”
Bio
Afton Locke is a USA Today Bestselling Author who writes
outside the box. Her trips always inspire her, sometimes years after they’re
over. She lives with her husband, usually surrounded by animals, both wild and
domestic. When she’s not writing, Afton enjoys hiking, cooking, reading, and
watching retro TV.
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