If we haven’t officially met yet, I’m Rebecca Heflin, contemporary romance author and lover of happily-ever-afters. I stopped by recently to introduce you to my newest novel, Under the Paris Moon, the first book in my new Whirlwind Romances series featuring characters who have a little more life experience under their belts.
But today, I thought I’d take you back to one of my earlier books—and talk about something else I’ve fallen in love with recently.
Fall.
A year and a half ago, my hubby and I left Florida after spending my whole life there and moved to Central Virginia, within sight of the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains.
And I have discovered that Virginia has turned me into a full-fledged fall fanatic.
I am all in.
Pumpkin spice breakfast smoothies? Yes, please.
Pumpkin spice overnight oats? Absolutely.
Decorating the house and front porch with pumpkins, gourds, and mums in every glorious shade of gold, orange, burgundy, and rust? Bring it on.
I love the traditional orange pumpkins, of course, but I’m especially drawn to the heirloom varieties—the pale blue-green ones, the creamy white ones, the deeply ridged ones, and those wonderfully warty pumpkins that look as though they belong in a fairy tale.
But my favorite part of fall in Virginia isn’t something I can put on my front porch.
It’s the Blue Ridge Mountains.
From our home, I get to watch autumn arrive almost day by day.
At first, the mountains are still overwhelmingly green, but then little hints of color begin to appear. A patch of gold here. A splash of orange there. A brilliant red tree that seems determined to show off before everyone else.
Then the color begins to spread.
Day by day, the greens give way to yellows and golds, fiery oranges, deep crimsons, and rich russets, until entire ridges look as though someone has taken a paintbrush to the landscape.
And when the early morning sun hits those mountains just right?
Absolutely spectacular.
After living in Florida for so long, where autumn often meant the temperature dropped from really hot to merely hot, I'm thoroughly enjoying having four distinct seasons for the first time in my life.
Which brings me to A Season to Love.
Long before I moved to Virginia and became quite so obsessed with fall, I created the fictional town of Northridge, Georgia, tucked into the foothills of the North Georgia mountains. Each book in my Seasons of Northridge series takes place during a different season, and
A Season to Love is my autumn story.
So if you love fall as much as I do, you can experience it right now—no pumpkin spice required.
Although I certainly wouldn't discourage it.
Welcome to Northridge, where Kristen McKay and Tyler Kincaide have a past.
Unfortunately, they remember that past very differently.
After seventeen years away, Tyler returns to his hometown of Northridge and discovers that Kristen, once a friend, now seems to loathe him with the same intensity he reserves for Brussels sprouts and kale.
He has absolutely no idea why.
Kristen does.
She remembers one night seventeen years ago that Tyler doesn't—one that left her hurt and ashamed and carrying a secret she's kept ever since.
His return dredges up all the emotions Kristen would rather leave buried. There's the anger. The resentment. The shame.
And, most inconveniently, an attraction to Tyler that apparently hasn't gotten the message that she's supposed to hate him.
Then the two of them are roped into working together on a project for Northridge's Economic Development Council.
You know what that means.
Forced proximity.
As they spend more time together, the chemistry between them becomes impossible to ignore, and Kristen begins to realize that the man Tyler is today may not be the man she's spent seventeen years resenting.
But the closer they become, the more impossible it is for Kristen to keep her secret.
Eventually, she'll have to tell him the truth.
And when she does, she may lose him all over again.
In an ironic twist, Kristen discovers that she must seek forgiveness from the very man she swore she would never forgive.
A Season to Love is a story about old wounds, second chances, forgiveness, and discovering that sometimes our memories—and the stories we've told ourselves about the past—don't tell us everything we need to know.
And it all unfolds against the backdrop of a small Southern town dressed in its autumn best.
So while I sit here watching the Blue Ridge Mountains put on their annual show, I can't help thinking that this is the perfect time to revisit Northridge.
If you're a fellow fall fanatic, grab your favorite pumpkin-spice something, curl up somewhere cozy, and come spend a little time with Kristen and Tyler in A Season to Love.
Because sometimes the best season for falling in love is fall.
Happy reading!
Rebecca Heflin
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