“Right from the start Rolling in Clover packs a one-two whammy of expertly turned phrases and perfect imagery. This is not an ooey-gooey romance with fluttering eyes and rippling pecs. Penny Dawn has penned a story with depth and emotion that will leave any reader eagerly devouring page after page.”—Megan Hart, award-winning author
“Penny Dawn draws you into a tale of two people struggling to find happiness in the choices they've made...You don't want to leave them until they've gotten it right. Fill up before you start reading, because you won't be able to eat past the lump in your throat.”—Natalie J. Damschroder, author of Kira's Best Friend
"This is an emotional tale touching on several weighty issues, including addiction and the everyday choices people make. This is not your average romance..."--Kristi Ahlers, Romantic Times Reviews
… She slid her hand into his firm grasp. “Kimberley.”
“Let’s take a walk. You want to?”
Of all the things she wanted to do with this man—was she crazy? She didn’t even know him!—walking was among the most innocent, but she shook her head. “I should go home.”
He pulled away his hand—she probably should have released it already—and twisted his wedding band. “I’m not trying to pick you up. I’m married. Harmless.” He hitched his chin toward the rear exit of the club. “Come on.”
As if he were the Pied Piper, she followed. Had she lost her mind?
“So, your third, huh?” He held open the door, and standing in the bright rays of sunshine, he looked like a savior carved into a cathedral wall.
“Third pregnancy, second child.” She exited into the tranquil April day, catching a whiff of peppermint and fabric softener in his wake.
He clucked his tongue and climbed over a split-rail fence into a thicket of prairie plants. “Sorry, miscarriage is rough. My wife and I never had to deal with that, but my sister Julie’s had two. I can’t imagine what you went through.”
“Actually…” She bit her tongue. A perfect stranger—and perfect, he was, from his defined, muscled torso threatening to shred his threadbare T-shirt, to his long, sinewy legs—was hardly an appropriate sounding board for her regrets regarding Jason Devon’s child…