Stephanie Bond - Baby, Don't Go

Praise for the novels of

STEPHANIE

BOND

“The perfect summer read.”

—Romance Reviews Today on Sand, Sun…Seduction!

“[My Favorite Mistake] illustrates the author’s gift for weaving original, brilliant romance that readers find impossible to put down.” – Wordweaving.com

“This book is so hot it sizzles.”

—Once Upon a Romance on She Did a Bad, Bad Thing

“An author who has remained on my ‘must-buy’ list for years.”

–Romance Reviews Today

“True-to-life, romantic and witty, as we’ve come to expect from Ms. Bond.”

— The Best Reviews

“Stephanie Bond never fails to entertain me and deserves to be an auto-buy.”

–Romance Reviews Today

Also by Stephanie Bond

BABY, COME HOME

BABY, DRIVE SOUTH

6 KILLER BODIES

5 BODIES TO DIE FOR

4 BODIES AND A FUNERAL

BODY MOVERS: 3 MEN AND A BODY

BODY MOVERS: 2 BODIES FOR THE PRICE OF 1

BODY MOVERS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

STEPHANIE BOND was raised on a farm in Eastern Kentucky where books— mostly romance novels—were her number one form of entertainment, which she credits with instilling in her “the rhythm of storytelling.”

Years later, she answered the call back to books to create her own stories. She sold her first manuscript in 1995 and soon left her corporate programming job to write fiction full-time.

Today, Stephanie has over fifty titles to her name, and lives in midtown Atlanta.

Visit www.stephaniebond.com for more information about the author and her books.

Stephanie Bond

www.mirabooks.co.uk

This book is dedicated to every person who recognizes that home is wherever you are loved .

Alicia Randall burst into her editor’s office. “I have my next story!”

Nina Halleck, executive editor of Feminine Power magazine, looked up from her desk and laughed. “Please, come in.”

Alicia smirked. “Sorry, Nina, but you’re not going to believe this. There’s a small town in Georgia that imported women for their men.”

Nina squinted. “Mail order brides?”

“More like bringing the entire catalog to town for the men to browse,” Alicia said dryly.

Nina pursed her mouth. “Okay, that’s a spin on matchmaking. What’s the name of the town?”

Alicia settled a hip on the edge of Nina’s desk, distantly registering the Manhattan skyline view. “The place is called Sweetness. Isn’t that great? I can’t make this stuff up.”

“Was there a shortage of women in this Sweetness?”

“Apparently, it was an abandoned mountain town that was being rebuilt, and there were no women. So a year ago the town leaders—all men—took out an ad in a newspaper in the town of Broadway, Michigan for—” she looked at her notes “—single women with a pioneering spirit, offering free room and board, and lots of single, Southern men.”

“Why Broadway, Michigan?”

“From what I can gather, Broadway was hit particularly hard by the downturn in the economy. I guess they thought women there would be desperate to relocate.”

“Did anyone respond?”

“Yes…a large group of women went down, a hundred or so.”

“And?”

“And—” Alicia leaned forward. “I want to go down there and see what’s going on. It could be my next topic for the Undercover Feminist column.”

Nina set down her pen. “Do you think they’re doing something illegal?”

“Not necessarily. But doesn’t it assault your sensibilities to think of a group of Neanderthals advertising for women to come and service them?”

“Do the Neanderthals have a name?”

Alicia checked her notes again. “Armstrong— Marcus, Kendall and Porter Armstrong—brothers. Apparently they grew up in Sweetness. About ten years ago, an F-5 tornado blew the town off the map.”

Nina grimaced. “Loss of life?”

“None. It was called the Sweetness Miracle.”

“I think I remember when that happened. I was writing copy for TV news.” Nina glanced upward, as if she were searching her memory banks. “No one was killed, but every building and home was destroyed…and maybe a water tower survived? Something like that.”

“Sounds right.”

“Hmm. So these Armstrong brothers are restoring their hometown?”

“According to the town website, they have a federal grant to rebuild based on a green initiative—recycling, alternative energy, tree-hugger stuff.”

“Sounds…wholesome.”

“It’s a great cover,” Alicia agreed. “Especially if they’re starting their own commune.”

“So what do you have in mind for a story?”

“I want to do an exposé of this chauvinistic matchmaking experiment of theirs.”

“By going undercover? As what?”

“What else? A woman with a pioneering spirit looking for a single, Southern man.”

Nina released a laugh. “You, on a manhunt? Alicia, when was the last time you even had a boyfriend?”

Alicia narrowed her eyes. “I wrote an entire feature on why that B-word should be stricken from every woman’s vocabulary.”

“I remember,” Nina said. “Sorry—old habits die hard. Besides, when I called Henry my manfriend, he said it made him feel like a butler.” She tilted her head. “But you digress…what administration was in power when you last had a man in your life?”

Alicia frowned. “I don’t need a man in my life, and I don’t want a man in my life.”

“My point exactly—so how do you propose to pass yourself off as a woman on the prowl?”

“I took acting classes in college,” Alicia said with a shrug. “Besides, anything for a good story, right?”

“If there is a story. The Armstrong brothers didn’t exactly coerce those women into moving there, did they?”

“Not that I can tell.”

“So…it’s a free country. Maybe they have the right idea, bringing men and women together to build a community from scratch.”

It was Nina’s job to play the devil’s advocate, Alicia conceded. “Tell you what—I have a few weeks of vacation coming, and my mother has been after me to visit her since she moved to Atlanta. Why don’t I head down and check out this place while I’m there?”

“When did your mother move to Atlanta?”

“Six months ago with her new boyfriend…um, Bo.”

“Bo? That’s his real name?”

“Evidently.”

Her boss considered her with shrewd eyes. “Alicia, are you sure this idea isn’t to satisfy some sort of personal vendetta to prove men and women can’t be happy together?”

Alicia scoffed. “The divorce rate in this country already proves that. Whatever I find in Sweetness will merely be anecdotal. Come on, I have a gut feeling that something will come of this. Will you authorize the expenses?”

Nina gave a rueful laugh. “Okay, it’s your vacation.” Then Nina took off her glasses and leaned back in her chair. “Alicia…the magazine has been approached about making your column a syndicated blog.”

Surprise and happiness shot through Alicia. “That’s great news!”

“Yes, it is,” Nina agreed with a smile. “Congratulations. I wasn’t supposed to say anything yet, but if this trip you’re planning turns up something interesting, it might be the right material for a blog series. It could be your first piece, a way to pull in readers right up front and develop a following.”