"Child of Mine" was a funny, sweet, sometimes emotional, but ultimately heartwarming story featuring endearing, three-dimensional characters and a well-crafted second chance romance. Sparks flew between former child star and soap opera actress Bella York and television producer Henry Smith from the moment they met, but a family tragedy prevented their one-night stand from turning into something real. It did, however, result in a daughter, Lilah, now almost 6 years old. Unfortunately, Henry never knew about his daughter because Bella had no way to contact him after their night together, so when they met again by chance and learned that they'd be working together on a reboot of the kids' show that launched Bella's career as a teenager, she was faced with a dilemma. She knew she had to tell Henry about Lilah, but what if he tried to take her baby girl away from her? Meanwhile, Henry was thrilled to reconnect with the one who got away and find that the attraction between them was as strong as ever. He just needed to convince Bella to let down her guard and give him a chance to show her how good they could be together.
After so many years in the spotlight, Bella was keeping a lot of secrets and carrying a ton of emotional baggage. I loved how patient Henry was with her while
she tried to work through it all and overcome her fears about being with
him. I also loved Henry's efforts to get over his own fears about being a
parent when his history with kids wasn't great. Luckily for him, Lilah wasn't a typical kid, plus his love for her motivated him to find
ways to make it work even when it seemed impossible.
Every time I think the books in this series can't get any better, Karen Grey proves me wrong. I highly recommend "Child of Mine" for all fans of contemporary(-ish) romance and romantic comedy and look forward to whatever Grey writes next.
*Review copy provided by the author. All opinions expressed are my own.
About "Child of Mine"
The bigger the secret, the harder it is to hide.
Single mom Isabella York was a celebrity before she had her first kiss, her first date, or her first sip of alcohol. Playing the bad girl—both on and off the set—made up for lost time, but the consequences were life-changing. Back home in Boston, with her “checkered past” behind her, all she wants is to raise her little girl far from the spotlight. After all, revealing her secrets could mean losing everything.
For her, and her daughter.
It’s not that Henry Smith hates kids—they don’t like him. Meanwhile, he’s stuck producing children’s TV, so he’s doing the best he can to be less of a grouch. Not everyone gets a second chance to chase his dream, and if he plays his cards right at this new gig, he can move on to making television that will change the world, not just entertain a bunch of brats.
Even better, he just might be able to talk the woman he never thought he’d see again into greenlighting a do-over.
In this sexy, heartwarming, Secret Baby, 80’s throwback romcom, a Sunshine-Grumpy pair has to face the past before they can find their future… together.
Read an Excerpt from "Child of Mine"
New York, 1982
HENRY
Hey, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I nod and let this gorgeous wisp of a woman grab my hand—hers small in mine but surprisingly strong—and tug me toward a door I hadn’t noticed before.
“Where are you taking me?”
Her eyebrows waggle, making her more Goldie Hawn than Cheryl Tiegs for a moment. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She presses a finger to my lips, setting off an electric buzz that zings directly south.
You’d think six months as a page giving tours of this iconic New York building would mean that I knew all her secrets, but Izzy—I still can’t believe that it’s her, the girl that literally gave me my first wet dream—leads me through hallways I didn’t know existed. Sparingly lit with bare bulbs, our shadows are long on the stained concrete. “How did you know about this back route?”
She slips me a secret smile. “I’ve worked here a long time.”
“Right out of school, huh?” If she’s my age, a long time can only be a couple years.
“Pretty much.” Her eyes shutter briefly, but she grips my hand more firmly. “Almost there.”
A metal door leads us to a loading bay, which opens into the scene shop. Now I know where we are. She picks up the pace as we cross the enormous space. When we reach the other side, she bites her lip and tries a door that I know leads to the costume shop. “Damn. I thought maybe we could cut through. We’ll have to go another way.”
“If you tell me where we’re headed, maybe I can help. I used to be a page.”
“You were?” She narrows her eyes at me. “I never saw you.”
“Where do you work, anyway?”
“Never mind.” Tugging on my hand again, she pulls me toward the door that leads back into the public realm. In the small reception area outside the shops, we run into a security guard. He flicks a questioning gaze at me. “Everything all right, Miss?”
The smile she flashes the older man is respectful but familiar. “All good, Charlie. I’m just picking up a couple things.”
He purses his lips as he gives me another assessing look. “You take care of yourself, sweetheart.”
“Always.”
He doesn’t say a word as she marches through the doorway to the dressing rooms—forbidden territory for tours. There’s a dummy dressing room that we’d show off, but I’ve never seen the real ones. Stars need their privacy.
“Are you on a show here?” I’m in the news division, and I rarely watch the other daytime or primetime fare the station churns out.
Her step falters, but she responds with a “Pfft. Just because I was on Boom for a season? Nah, I’m a—hang on.” She opens the door to an office, and reaches under the cushion of a chair. “People are creatures of habit. This is where Nancy always hides her… ah, got ’em.” She holds up a ring heavy with keys. “For a script supervisor who’s supposed to be on top of all the details, she’s super lax.”
“Are we breaking and entering?”
“It’s not breaking and entering if you have the key, is it?”
Moments later, she’s unlocking a dressing room door that, unlike the others we passed, isn’t labelled with an actor’s name. She flicks on a lamp instead of the overhead lights, tosses the keys on the counter, pulls me all the way inside, reaches around me to lock the deadbolt, and then crowds me up against the door until there’s nothing between us but fabric.
“You are something,” I say with what little air is left in my lungs, her touch amplifying the feeling that anything is possible.
“Shhh.” When she presses her index finger to my lips, I can only lean in to her touch. “I happen to know that this actress is leaving,” she whispers with a conspiratorial grin. “She’s all packed up and out of here, so let’s take advantage of that. As much advantage as humanly possible.”
This day just keeps getting better.
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