Lilac Time

by Fern Michaels, Carolyn Brown, Lori Foster

Genres: Women's Fiction; Family Life

Synopsis

The air is sweet, the days grow warm, and the budding branches bring the promise of bright new beginnings in this heartwarming springtime collection headlined by one of the most beloved storytellers of our time, Fern Michaels, joined by bestselling authors Carolyn Brown and Lori Foster.

SWEET AS HONEY * Fern Michaels
Natalie is through with pining over her ex. If only her efforts to be social again didn’t lead to repeated run-ins with an infuriating beekeeper at the local farmer’s market. Yet Garrett keeps buzzing around. And as Natalie watches his patience and dedication in tending his hives, she begins to wonder if life has a sweet surprise in store.
 
EVERYTHING SHE’D EVER WANTED * Lori Foster
Annabeth can see that her neighbor’s handsome nephew, Devlin, has his hands full, raising his little girl single-handed. Yet though his life is frazzled, it’s full of the kind of joy and togetherness she longs for. And when Devlin’s daughter and Annabeth’s tiny dog fall hard for each other, it might be the start of more than one beautiful friendship.

THE MEMORY CABIN * Carolyn Brown
Jenna Stewart loves gathering at her Texas lakeside cabin with her girlfriends. It’s an annual tradition to reconnect with the women who helped her deal with her mother’s passing along with the end of her marriage. But this year, lives are changing, dreams are evolving. And perhaps Jenna’s heart has healed enough to welcome a new love that arrives with the first flowers of spring . . .

Release date: April 29, 2025

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 320

Sample

Thirty-four-year-old Natalie Simmons thought of herself as a tomboy-nerd, or a nerdy-tomboy. Growing up an hour from Ocala National Forest, and surrounded by state forests and wildlife management areas, Natalie took every advantage of the Florida weather and being outdoors. She loved to climb trees and would spend hours peeking through the leaves at the vibrant blue sky dotted by white puffy clouds. As a kid, her favorite outfit was a pair of overalls and a T-shirt, or a crew-neck sweater when the days were a bit crisp.

When she was in middle school, her father asked her if she ever thought she would wear a dress again, to which she responded, “I wear dresses every day to school. This is my private time.” Her father couldn’t argue with that logic. As she entered her teens, she felt awkward, as most adolescents do, and her antidote was to swiftly change into her overalls and head for the woods. Her older brother Nicholas shared the same passion for the outdoors, but he left for Montana to become a park ranger when Natalie was a high school freshman, leaving Natalie to find kindred spirits.

As she struggled through the pains of her teens, she found a group of like-minded nature aficionados at school. They were a group of six who ate lunch together every day and spent their weekends hiking in the forest or canoeing along the lake. Natalie and her friend Diana were the only girls in the group, and you would think that would make them very popular in their little cohort, but it seemed that the boys were much more interested in the sand pine scrub ecosystem of the 387,000 acres of the southernmost forest in the continental United States than high school dances and dating. Natalie occasionally wondered if she had any appealing female attributes, but then again, what teenager is secure in their skin?

Natalie also took an interest in computers; on the Internet, she could discover the many details of the world around her and beyond when she was forced to be indoors. When applying for college, she decided to get on the STEM highway of Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics. At the time, her path was unclear. She was betwixt and between what avenue she should pursue as a career, and decided computer science would always get her a job. Somewhere. Doing something. She applied to the University of Florida in Gainesville, a little over an hour away from home and her favorite hangout, the national forest.

As she became more aware of the endless possibilities in the computer field, she honed her talents in the creative side of technology and embarked on a journey of computer graphics. Upon graduating, she was offered a job at a tech company in Jacksonville, about three hours from home, and two hours from her beloved retreat. She decided to take the job opportunity and could stop at any of her favorite woods when traveling back and forth to visit her parents.

They say time passes in the blink of an eye, and before she knew it, she was ten years into the job. Life was good. She wasn’t in a serious relationship; like most of her peers, she was more interested in building her career than hunting for a mate and settling down. Plus, she always had a cat or two, and her life and routine suited her.

Natalie considered herself to be “average-looking.” Average light-brown wavy hair, average medium-brown eyes, average light- to medium-tone skin. She was also an average height of five feet, four inches, and her average body weighed in at 132 pounds.

One thing that wasn’t average about her was her proficiency at building websites. She had an intuition that made them come to life with the right graphics, fonts, art, and backgrounds. She believed that her rich experiences in the outdoors gave her a keen perspective in making an onscreen image feel three dimensional. Natalie also had an instinct for music. Whether it was grunge or punk, pop or rock, country or classical, she understood it—whatever “it” was they were playing—and became adept at building sites for musicians. Before she took on an assignment, she spent time listening to the musician’s work, and if they were appearing, she saw them perform. Natalie gained a reputation among local musicians, which spread throughout the industry. “She gets it,” was how they described her. Yes, it was the “it” factor, not necessarily how the word is used to describe the latest, greatest of whatever trend, but in what the musicians were expressing.

For several years, she reported to an office every day, wearing average attire. Business average. Skirt or tailored slacks, button-down shirt, blazer, and sensible yet fashionable shoes. Oxfords or tasseled loafers. To Natalie, that was just short of being overdressed. If she could have her way, it would be baggy shirts and baggy pants and slip-on sneakers. Her dream wardrobe became a reality when her job as a web designer became remote, which made a lot of sense. Who needed to be around people all day when you’re staring at a computer? She was quite happy when the company decided to have most of the staff work remotely and meet via Zoom.

It wasn’t as if Natalie was reclusive, but she found the office vibe was often distracting. And her cat, Mr. Meowzer, offered plenty of company—although he wasn’t always the best office mate. There was one occasion when she received an email from a client that was just a string of question marks. When she scrolled down, she found an email that she hadn’t intended on sending, at least not until she edited it. It was a bit terse, and she wanted to rethink the content. She was mortified. Then she remembered Mr. Meowzer had been sitting on her desk. Natalie quickly checked her photo files and found one of Mr. Meowzer on top of her keyboard. She immediately emailed it to the client, with the subject line: “Always the joker!” The client sent back a smiley face and said, “I like his sense of humor.” Natalie wiped her brow. “That was a close one, buster,” she scolded, giving the cat a side-eye.

Working from home in her apartment in Jacksonville didn’t garner her any points in style. Her daily attire had become too casual. She hardly wore makeup, and her hair was either in a short ponytail or pulled back with a hair clip. She was the first to admit she wasn’t material for a fashion magazine. She didn’t think her appearance was important to do her job—although she would dress appropriately if she was meeting a client on Zoom. Still, unless you have a hair and makeup person on site, no one really looks great on Zoom, so why go crazy?

Natalie’s best friend, Joyce, was almost her complete opposite. She always wore the latest styles. When they were together, they could have posed for the “Dos and Don’ts” photos often found in fashion magazines. It wasn’t as if Natalie looked unkempt. She simply looked plain, and made the least amount of effort, if any, when it came to clothes.

One afternoon, she and Joyce were walking down the street when Natalie took notice of their reflection in a store window. Natalie grabbed Joyce’s arm. “Wow . . . I look like a bag lady compared to you.”

“You could easily make some improvements,” Joyce said flatly. Natalie thought her friend’s response was a bit harsh, but she dismissed the dig. Natalie sensed Joyce enjoyed being perceived as the “prettier” of the two, but in reality, Natalie had a beautiful face. Far from “average.” But people see the first quick impression and don’t focus on the details, physically or personally. That comes much later, when it is often too late.

Over the course of the past ten years, Natalie’s dating record was far from spectacular, but she got into a routine with a coworker named Alec Holtzman. For the past year, every Wednesday, they went to Bennie’s Tavern for a trivia night, and every Saturday they would join their friends at Gino’s Pizzeria.

One Tuesday, Alec asked her to meet him that night for margaritas at Caliente Tacos. It wasn’t their usual place, or their usual night, but Natalie was always game for tacos. And maybe it was time for them to take their relationship to the next level and spend more time together. Natalie decided maybe it was also time for her to put a little more effort into her appearance. Joyce’s comment had kinda gotten under her skin. Natalie wasn’t going to do anything drastic, but a pair of slim jeans and a white button-down shirt under a crew-neck sweater was tolerable and appropriate. She left her hair loose, dabbed a little blush on her cheeks, gave her eyebrows a little shape, and a swiped bit of gloss on her lips. She took one last look in the mirror and asked Mr. Meowzer what he thought. He gave her an extremely loud meow, which she took as approval.

Natalie was feeling perky. She did a double take as she passed a store window, because she hardly recognized herself. She had to admit she had gone too far down the rabbit hole of blah, and promised herself she would take more interest in her appearance. They say if you like the way you look, it shows in your mannerism. She happily walked the five blocks to Caliente, where Alec was waiting at an outdoor table, wearing an odd expression. Not sure what to make of it, Natalie was surprised when she leaned in to give him a kiss and he jerked his head back as if he were about to be bitten by a snake. That, too, was odd. Very odd. She kept smiling and pulled out a chair. “Everything alright?”

“We have to talk,” Alec said, in that tone no one ever wants to hear.

A chill went up Natalie’s spine. She knew what was coming next. Not that they were having any relationship issues, but those four words were ominous. She held her breath for as long as possible and then let it all out. “Okay. Talk,” she managed to say with some dignity.

“Nat, I know we’ve been seeing each other for what, eight, ten months?”

The fact he didn’t know was another sign the conversation was going one way, and not in a good way. Still, Natalie remained calm as she fought the tears. “It’s been a year, Alec.” She pushed her chair back and gripped the edge of the table with both hands to steady herself, and to keep from punching him in the face. She quickly rose and rushed out of the bar, nearly knocking into a server carrying a tray of beers.

As she walked home, she wondered how long Alec had been unhappy. Everything seemed quite normal between them. Routine. What had changed?

She knew she hadn’t given him the opportunity to explain, but what was the use? When someone wanted to break up with you, it was best to rip off the Band-Aid and spare yourself further humiliation; why stick around while your about-to-be ex tells you what’s wrong with you and the relationship?

On the other hand, she didn’t give him the opportunity to use the tired It’s not you, it’s me routine. It was him. He hadn’t even taken notice of her appearance. He’s such a jerk. He could have had the decency to soften the blow with a compliment. Yes, he’s a huge jerk.

By the time she got back to her apartment, the embarrassment had been replaced by infuriation. That’s when she realized that she wasn’t in love with him. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she never really thought about love when it came to Alec. A year together, and the thought had never even crossed her mind.

Mr. Meowzer was sitting inside the door, waiting for her. Now that was love. Pure, unconditional love. She scooped him up in her arms and nuzzled her face against his. The big ragdoll cat eyed her suspiciously. Natalie looked into his furry face and assured him, “Yes, I am alright. Simply fine, actually.” She realized she didn’t even cry. The closest she came to tears was when Alec uttered those chilling four words. But she hadn’t shed them. Good for her. He didn’t deserve them.

She hauled Mr. Meowzer to the sofa, where she placed the kitty next to her. She turned to him and asked, “Who keeps the friends in a breakup?” He stared up at her blankly. She continued to ruminate over the subject. The guys usually stick together, and the girlfriends or wives have a fifty-fifty chance of maintaining a friendship, because as soon as the guy gets a new girlfriend, she is the one who becomes part of the group. Natalie made a promise to herself that she was not going to let another man dictate her social life or her friends. But it was going to be challenging, at least for a while. She decided to hunker down and take on more work until she felt ready to be a part of the public again.

Three months after her self-imposed isolation, she decided to go to Bennie’s for trivia. Just because she was single didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to play.

For her first foray into the social scene, she went to great lengths to switch up her relaxed attire and put in some effort to enhance her appearance. It was akin to what she used to wear to work, with a little more attention to hair and makeup. If it didn’t work on Alec, it might get someone else’s attention—although that wasn’t her motive or purpose. She simply wanted to emphasize her assets in case the creep was there.

And he was. And so was Joyce. Sitting on his lap.

Natalie suppressed the urge to slap the person she thought was one of her best friends. Why do women do that to each other? No wonder Joyce had been radio-silent the past month. Whenever Natalie invited her over, Joyce had an excuse. Did Joyce think Alec was now fair game? Didn’t Natalie deserve a conversation on the subject? Not that she would have been thrilled, but a little consideration would have been nice. Natalie would have gladly given her blessing, and a warning. Alec is all about Alec. Good luck.

Natalie was finally over the drama and humiliation of being dumped and was looking forward to making plans with her friends and restoring her social life. Now this? Like a flash of lightning, her emotions went from shock, to hurt, to anger, to a thirst for revenge. She wasn’t going to let two back-stabbers stop her from playing that night. She was more motivated than ever to beat the pants off of them. If she couldn’t physically slap them around, she could certainly throttle them with her intellect. It occurred to her that might have been the reason Alec spent time with her. She always came out ahead of the pack, making them the reigning champions of trivia night. Not anymore. Too bad, so sad, get ready to get your butts kicked. And kick them, she did. Natalie wasn’t sure what was giving her more pleasure: wiping the floor with their miserable scores, or how uncomfortable Joyce was after she leaped off Alec’s lap when Natalie walked in. Natalie was not a vindictive person, but she was feeling good about herself and her trivia prowess.

At the end of the evening, Natalie walked past where Alec and Joyce were sitting. “Great game,” she said, and kissed her fifty-dollar winnings before she slid the bill into her jacket pocket. She was elated. They were deflated. A little satisfaction goes a long way.

The day after the competition at Bennie’s, Joyce left several voicemail messages and texts apologizing to Natalie. Too little, too late. Joyce should have called her before she started dating Alec. Unless . . . could there have been something going on between Joyce and Alec before the “we have to talk” talk that didn’t happen? Is that why Alec broke up with her? Natalie decided it no longer mattered. She was done with both of them.

The following morning, Natalie’s mother phoned. It was good news/bad news. The bad news was that her father took a fall and had to have hip replacement surgery. The good news was that it was something fixable. But her mother was going to need some help back home.

Considering all that had happened, Natalie was ready for a change of scenery.

Her father was scheduled for surgery that afternoon and would remain in the hospital for three days doing physical and occupational therapy. There was a lot to do to get the house ready for his return, so Natalie packed her laptop, some clothes, and her cat Mr. Meowzer and made the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Sumter County, north-west of Orlando. The plan was to stay with her parents for at least four weeks, until her father finished physical therapy. Although she wished it was under better circumstances, Natalie was glad to be home with the people she loved most.

Her first days home were busy. Natalie and her mother had to make the necessary preparations around the house for when her father got back from the hospital. Pathways had to be clear enough for him to maneuver with a walker. They had to remove scatter rugs that he could trip over. They had to make sure most things in the kitchen were within arm’s reach. No climbing on stools allowed!

Once her dad came home, her mother went back to her job as a loan officer at a local bank, and Natalie was in charge of keeping an eye on her father to make sure he didn’t overexert himself. She did her best not to baby him. His doctor said he should move around, but Natalie was ever watchful, trying not to hover.

Her mother had weekends off and insisted that Natalie get out and interact with people her own age. But where? And with whom? Natalie hadn’t lived in Sumter in almost fifteen years. Her mother suggested she could help out at the farmers market, where at the end of the day, any unsold perishables would be taken to the local food pantry. They were always in need of volunteers. Natalie thought that sounded easy enough, and she would be helping a good cause. Her mother gave her the phone number of their pastor who organized the group, and he was delighted to have someone to help. Natalie promised she would stay as long as it took to get everything cleaned up, stacked up, and organized, and she offered to work on Saturday at the pantry.

When the first Saturday approached, Natalie was in a lighthearted mood. She was excited to start socializing with people again. Even though she had been out of town for over a decade, she figured she would run into some old school chums.

She got to the market early and was about to maneuver her vehicle into a parking space when someone zipped ahead of her, causing her to slam on the brakes. She instinctively leaned on the horn but got absolutely no response from the driver. He left the motor of his truck running, hopped out of the cab, pulled down the tailgate, and yanked a case of jars from the bed. Natalie watched with interest, waiting for the man to apologize. Nothing. She was tempted to lean on the horn again but thought it might be rude. After all, this was the country, and people were more cordial. Except for this dude.

Natalie considered moving to a different parking space but decided to wait patiently for the man to return and atone for his ill-mannered behavior. Meanwhile, she noticed the exceptionally large, hairy head of a dog sticking out of the passenger-side window of the truck. She was tempted to get out of her vehicle and have a chat with the dog about his owner’s rude behavior, but then thought better of it.

She checked her watch. A whole ten minutes went by before he came back. She rolled down her window, expecting an apology, but nothing. Zero. He simply got back into his vehicle and pushed the gear in reverse and came within inches of hitting her car. That was enough. She leaned on the horn, stuck her head out the window, and yelled, “Where did you get your license? A Cracker Jack box?”

He grinned, winked, and gave her a two-finger salute. At that point, Natalie was fuming and muttering, “What is wrong with people?” She noticed there was something painted in yellow on the side of the truck, but she couldn’t make out what it was from her vantage point. She took a few deep breaths and gathered her composure. Chances were she would never see the guy again. Why waste her time confronting him?

Natalie spent the next four hours walking among the tables and carts, chatting with the vendors, some who went as far back as her childhood. She felt welcome. At ease. The four hours passed quickly. At the end of the day, she and the other volunteers gathered the remaining goods and packed them in their cars. She followed the convoy to the pantry.

As they pulled into the parking lot, she noticed a familiar-looking truck, the same hairy dog, and let out a groan. Seriously? There has to be more than one green pickup truck with a hairy dog in the county. That’s when she spotted “Mr. Rude” helping unpack the goods. This time she took a long look at him. He was at least six feet tall, lean but muscular, with a mop of sun-bleached hair and some scruffy facial hair. His eyes were hidden by his Oakley Hydra sunglasses with sapphire lenses, but had he not been so rude, Natalie thought he could be attractive. Maybe. She waited for him to go inside the building, and then she hurriedly removed the boxes from her car and left them with the person parked next to her. It was becoming clear that chances were that she would see that guy again, but she’d rather have it be later than sooner.

She turned to the gentleman who took her boxes. “Who is that guy?”

“Oh, Garrett? The local beekeeper. Got some of the best honey around.” The man heaved the boxes onto a cart.

“Huh,” she muttered. Obviously, none of the honey’s sweetness had rubbed off on him.

“That’s his dog, Mr. Bumbles. Like the bee.” The man chuckled.

She thought that was his only redeeming quality—he had a dog. It struck her that he called his dog “Mister,” the same as she addressed her cat. Just an odd coincidence, she told herself. She thanked the man, got back into her car, and drove to her parents’ house.

As she pulled up, she saw her father on the front porch, using a walker. “Hey Dad! How is it going? Are you sure you’re alright out here by yourself?”

“I’m fine, honey.”

Honey! Ugh. That word. She climbed to where he was getting his steps in for the day. “You sure you’re okay with that? Do you need some help?” she asked.

“I’m fine, sweetie,” he assured her.

“Hey, what’s with those?” Natalie asked, pointing to the tennis balls on the legs of the walker.

He laughed. “They help this contraption glide easier on the wood floor.”

Natalie chuckled. “I thought you were taking up another hobby.”

“Well, maybe, but not this week.”

“Everything else good?” she asked.

“Yep! Doc says I’m doing great. I should be graduating to a cane in about two weeks.”

“Excellent.” Natalie gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re looking good. Got some color back.”

“Yep. They say that the anesthesia can stay in your system for months. How about that?”

“So, you’re drinking plenty of water, right?”

“You betcha. Your mother is like a prison guard. She stood in front of me until I drank the entire glass. Did that to me at least seven times today.” He chuckled.

“Don’t think you’re going to get away with anything during the week when I’m in charge,” she said, grinning.

“I have no expectations of anything less,” he laughed, patting her hand.

“What about discomfort? Pain?” Natalie w. . .