Gypsy Love: A Gypsy Beach Novel Read Online Free Page B

outstanding, Pulitzer Prize—winning, Southern Fiction author. John had always devoured his books, and he bet Arley’s works were just as compelling. Brave soul to have put her real name on her books. Some Americans were particularly sexually repressed. Maybe that’s why she looked so down. The thought that someone had given her a hard time about her writing added vengeance to his irritation.
    Before he could purchase and download several of her books, he noticed something odd. Every single book was listed as no longer for sale.
    Midnight Riders, her latest publication, had come out just seven weeks before. Why on earth would it not be available? That made no sense. Disappointed, he tried a few other of his favorite book sites, but even the paperbacks were unavailable.
    I’d offer to pay, but I just can’t right now. Yeah, well, if no one could buy her books that would certainly limit her paychecks. He hoped she’d gotten a hell of an advance for writing them, but he doubted it. Everyone knew that publication houses rarely gave decent advances anymore.
    Guilt stabbed at his gut. He made money hand over fist at his firm. It did, in fact, flow like rain. Though it certainly wasn’t his fault, she was lacking funds, and he wanted to help her. Slamming the laptop shut, he fell back against the pillows and rubbed his eyes with enough vigor that he saw veins of light. He’d never intended to become an asshole attorney with a Porsche and a pricey condo in Buckhead. What the hell had happened to him?
    You don’t even know her, moron. Leave it be. You can’t save them all.
     
    Arley made another track around the suite she’d been assigned. It was beautiful. A large King size bed sat against the rear wall with a view of the churning ocean waters. Its coverings were light and inviting. She ran her hands over the sheets, feeling their cozy warmth. A substantial bookcase sat in one corner, stuffed with books of every variety. She ran her fingertips along the leather spine of Southwind Plantation and traced the imprint of her father’s name there at the bottom. There was a spacious desk, plenty big enough for her laptop and notes. There was even a large tub off to one side near a gas fireplace. It wasn’t cold enough for a fire, but the setting was so romantic.
    If she couldn’t manage to piece together a romance novel there, it was hopeless. Every idea she came up with to salvage her fledgling career required a good deal of money. If only her aunts weren’t being such bitches about her father’s will. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples as if she could somehow massage a new novel into her psyche.
    What’s the point anyway? I won’t be able to sell another manuscript until this disaster is settled, and maybe not ever. It would probably be more productive to work on her résu mé . She was a barista in college and worked at the campus bookstore, but that was the extent of her job experience.
    Writing was all she’d ever wanted to do, and it was the only thing that made her feel like she was earning her place on the Earth. Stories used to brim copiously from her brain without ceasing. Now, she could almost see the ghostly words on the blank paper. She just couldn’t seem to make them appear. They stayed out of reach.
     
    “That look almost always means trouble.” Ryan chuckled as he drew Sienna into his arms.
    “Ryan! Did you see how John was looking at Ms. Copeland? And trust me, she was all but drooling over him. This is so exciting!”
    Shaking his head, Ryan sighed. He hated to burst her bubble. “Baby, John’s always been pretty adamant that he’d never fall for anyone. He always puts the brakes on quickly. He’s seen a lot of marriages end explosively.”
    “I know.” Sienna climbed into bed and gave him a very sexy smirk. “But there is Gypsy magic in this shoreline, Ryan McNamara.”
    “I am well aware of that, Sienna Rose. I do hear it when the little children laugh, and I see it when