May 5, 2014

Prejudice Meets Pride Promo

Prejudice Meets Pride by Rachael Anderson

After years of pinching pennies and struggling to get through art school, Emma Makie’s hard work finally pays off with the offer of a dream job. But when tragedy strikes, she has no choice but to make a cross-country move to Colorado Springs to take temporary custody of her two nieces. She has no money, no job prospects, and no idea how to be a mother to two little girls, but she isn’t about to let that stop her. Nor is she about to accept the help of Kevin Grantham, her handsome new neighbor, who seems to think she’s incapable of doing anything on her own.

Fun, compelling, and romantic,Prejudice Meets Pride is the story of a guy who thinks he has it all figured out and a girl who isn’t afraid to show him that he doesn’t. It’s about learning what it means to trust, figuring out how to give and to take, and realizing that not everyone gets to pick the person they fall in love with. Sometimes, love picks them.

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Coming Soon!


Every part of Kevin screamed at him not to take it. He didn’t want it or need it. Why couldn’t she let it go and forget about it? Why wouldn’t she let him ease some of her burdens? He wanted to—so much. It was killing him how much. But then he looked from the envelope to her eyes, and in that instant, he knew he couldn’t turn down the money. She needed him to accept it.

So he did, though he hated himself for it. To him, forty bucks was pocket change. To her, it was a weeks’ worth of groceries. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Thank you for loaning it to me.”

“Anytime.” His eyes captured and held hers. “I mean it, Emma. Anytime.”

“I know,” she said softly.

That would have to be enough for now. Kevin fingered the envelope, wishing there was something he could do. Something she’d let him do. “Would you like to borrow my lawnmower?” he asked tentatively, worried the question would make her go all ape on him again. “It works.”

Emma’s hand covered her mouth, muffling a strangled sound. Was that a sob or a snicker? Kevin couldn’t tell. Please don’t let her be crying. He never knew what to say or do when a woman got all weepy.

The sound came again, and Emma’s eyes filled with suppressed humor. Whew. It was a snicker. She was trying not to laugh. Did that mean he could press his luck? 

He gestured toward his mower. “Or, I could always mow it   for—”

“No.” And just like that, all traces of humor were gone. “I’ll mow my own lawn, thanks. Then I’ll clean it up, refill it with gas, and return it to you in better shape than before. Because that’s what you do when you borrow something.” It sounded rehearsed—a lesson ingrained in her by parents or someone else. “And then I’ll find a way to repay you for everything else you’ve done for me. Because I hate—hate—being in your debt.”

Kevin stepped forward and rested his hands on Emma’s shoulders, still clutching the envelope. He shook her shoulders lightly until those beautiful gray eyes met his. “Emma, you don’t owe me anything.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”


“No, you don’t,” he said firmly, then held the envelope in front of her face. “As far as I’m concerned, this makes us square.”

She didn’t try to say anything this time, only continued to stare at him with eyes that he could drown in. He lowered his hand from her mouth and shoved the envelope in the back pockets of his jeans, where he felt another envelope containing the art gallery tickets.

He pulled them out. “And speaking of not owing me anything, I happen to have two tickets for some big art gallery show tonight in Denver. They were given to me and didn’t cost a dime,” he quickly added. “Would you like to go?”
Her eyes clouded in confusion. “With you?”

No, with Sam or even Becky. Anyone but him. He was taking Nicole out tonight, 
not Emma. Nicole. If only his heart would stop pounding on his chest to say, 

“Yeah. With me.” The words were out before he could stop them. “I can see if Sam’s available to watch the girls.”

“You mean like a date?” Emma said.

Did he mean that? Kevin wasn’t sure. Everything that had seemed so clear moments before suddenly became murky and garbled. “How about we call it two friends hanging out? Something tells me you could really use a break.”

The confusion left her eyes, and she frowned. “Great. So now I’m the charity case again.”

Worried that he’d inadvertently turned up the heat on a pot that had only just begun to simmer, Kevin amended, “I meant a date. It’s like a date.”

Author Rachael Anderson

A USA Today bestselling author, Rachael Anderson is the mother of four and is pretty good at breaking up fights, or at least sending guilty parties to their rooms. She can’t sing, doesn’t dance, and despises tragedies. But she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make homemade bread, which she is really good at eating.

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How about one more Excerpt…

“You owe me,” Kevin teased, watching her closely for a reaction.

Guilt appeared first, followed by resignation. She placed her cool hand on his arm. “Would you settle for a thank you? That seems to be all I ever say to you, but I don’t have much else to offer.” She looked so tired, defeated even, as though the rigid strength he’d glimpsed earlier was all used up. What had happened? More than ever, he wanted to pull her into his arms and try to coax some of it back. What was it about her that drew him to her? That made her look beautiful, even next to Nicole, and cause Kevin to miss her when she wasn’t around? Why was his heart suddenly racing like a teenager?

“‘Thank you’ works,” he said, his voice husky.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly before wilting. She dropped her hand and clasped her fingers together. “Before I lose my nerve, I, uh—need to ask you something.”

When she said nothing more, Kevin prodded, “Yes?”

“I was, uh, just wondering if—” Her lips clamped shut as though she couldn’t force herself to say the words. Her fingers fidgeted, and she couldn’t stand still. It was almost comical watching her fight whatever inner battle was going on in her mind.

“Out with it, Emma,” Kevin said as he fought back a smile.
Her eyes met his for a brief moment before looking down at the floor. “Is that job offer still on the table?” she said in a rush, still looking at her feet.
Anxiety flared in Kevin’s gut for a moment, then quieted almost as quickly. Not only was Emma intelligent and confident, but she was strong and good. She’d do fine.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “The offer is definitely still on the table.”

Hopeful eyes turned up to his—eyes brimming with moisture. She threw her arms around Kevin and hugged him tight. For a few shocked moments, he stood there, wondering what to do. Then he wrapped his arms around her the way he’d wanted to do earlier. As she sniffled into his shirt, he rested his chin on her head. Her hair smelled lightly of cherry blossoms, and her body felt soft and strong at the same time. He didn’t want her to pull away.

But she did eventually. Her eyes were bright with a mixture of defeat and relief. Kevin knew it had cost her a lot to ask him that, yet she’d done it. And he knew exactly who she’d done it for.

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