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Something About September: A Cozy Fall Romance - Softcover

McKay, Julia

 
9798217180080: Something About September: A Cozy Fall Romance
Softcover
ISBN 13: 9798217180080
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2026

Inhaltsangabe

Cozy up with your pumpkin spiced latte and a slice of apple pie, because it's time to fall in love in Bramley Hollow...

A fall-inspired second-chance romance about a woman who returns home after inheriting her grandmother’s diner, only to discover the contractor she must hire was her high school crush.

Sweater weather is better together.

Rebecca Macintosh has always felt that there’s just something about September—nostalgia, crisp mornings, and possibility. But not this year. Rebecca has thirty days to return home to fix up her late grandmother’s diner or face the consequences. And the only contractor in town? Cort Adams. The man who rejected her one year ago. He’s somehow even better looking as a single dad than when he was the high school football star she once tutored.  She’d been hoping to avoid him forever.

As the golden leaves start to fall, Rebecca may find that there’s more to her hometown—and to Cort—than she’d realized, and that the dreams she’s been chasing might have been the wrong ones. Could a spark kindle hot enough in the cool autumn air to call Rebecca home for good?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Julia McKay is the romance-writing pen name of New York Times bestselling author Marissa Stapley, whose novel Lucky was a Reese’s Book Club pick and is now a series for Apple TV starring Anya Taylor Joy. She divides her time between Toronto and Ontario cottage country.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

September 14, 2014

Dear Diary,

It’s only a week into my final year of high school, and I already wish I could time travel to next fall. When I’ll be in Toronto, at university, far away from here, and my whole life will finally be different.

Don’t get me wrong, I like Bramley Hollow. Most of the time. It’s my home, after all. The sign when you drive in says, Population 9,973. . . Unless someone moved! Tourists think that’s adorable—but then, we don’t get all that many tourists here, considering our one claim to fame is our yearly Autumn Fair & Gala, which consists of a tiny midway, and some contests to do with baking or who can grow the biggest vegetable. Thrilling stuff. The fair’s tagline: Fall for autumn in Bramley Hollow, the place that invented it!

We didn’t actually invent autumn. I guess that’s obvious.

Anyway, today’s disaster happened after English class. Mrs. Albemarle asked if I’d tutor Cort Adams. Apparently he’s in danger of getting kicked off the football team if he doesn’t raise his grades, and English is his worst subject because he “hates reading.”

Mrs. Albemarle usually looks like she’s just bitten into a crab apple, but she actually smiled when she talked about Cort. She went on about how he’s our “only chance” at keeping the town’s football pennant dynasty alive, how he’s a “legendary quarterback, just like his father.” I may have pointed out that “legendary” was a stretch. Cue the crab apple frown. But I said yes. Because even though Grannie Lenore says she’s been squirreling tuition money away for years, I know the diner isn’t exactly lucrative. I want to help as much as I can. If tutoring Cort means extra credit, and extra credit means keeping my English average above 95 so I can get the best scholarship, then I’ll do it.

And, I can admit: Cort might not be entirely awful, even with the whole jock swagger thing he has going. The other day, when the rest of the football team were shooting spitballs at poor Crispin Klune in the cafeteria, Cort told them to knock it off and actually helped Crispin clean himself up. And okay, it’s hard not to notice the whole broad-shoulders, crooked-smile thing. Or the way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. I know this because after school today, he caught up with me in the hall. His hair was all floppy and he tossed it out of his eyes in this ridiculous way and said, “I can’t believe the smartest girl in class is going to tutor me—I hope I don’t embarrass myself.” My heart started racing, my palms went all sweaty, and I turned bright red. Which is bad, because I’m not in some 1980’s rom-com movie where I suddenly take off my glasses, realize how beautiful I am, and get to be Prom Queen. That is not what I want! I just want a scholarship, not to become a complete cliché if I fall for the quarterback while tutoring him. In English. I mean, c’mon.

Of course, when I told Sabrina, she practically fainted. “Who cares if he’ll never get the difference between a metaphor and a simile? He’s so cute!” she squealed. The most accurate simile for Sabrina is that she’s like a walking, talking ray of sunshine, which is usually nice, but today just made me crankier. Because she’s not wrong. Cort is cute. So cute that when he said that thing about me being the smartest girl, I literally couldn’t form words.

Send help,
Rebecca






Twelve Years Later
Chapter 1 [Sunday]

Rebecca McIntosh stood in the middle of her Toronto apartment, questioning all her life choices. Meanwhile, her subletter surveyed the surroundings with bewilderment. “There are so many … books. On like, all the shelves.”

Chrysanthemum was a twenty-year-old communications student at University of Toronto with jelly-textured nails and hair in a shiny ponytail. Rebecca’s dark brown curls were falling out of a top knot and her nails were chewed to the quick.

“I teach literature at the university,” Rebecca offered by way of explanation, while Chrysanthemum’s expression reflected what Rebecca was quite certain was sympathy. Then she turned and clomped across the room in white platform sneakers before stopping in front of a sagging shelf of Brontë, Hardy, and dog-eared Norton anthologies.

“Do you read these?”

“Well, I did. And my students do, I hope,” Rebecca said, but her wry humor was lost on Chrysanthemum. And suddenly, Rebecca could see her point. Why would anyone be so interested in the same old stories about drafty mansions, angry men disguised as passionate lovers, women with no autonomy? Why had she allowed herself to decide in high school, when she didn’t know any better, the books that were going to define her career? She tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear and straightened her shoulders. “Anyway, I’m on a short leave right now. Which is why I’m subletting to you for the month, while I go back to my hometown to take care of some business.” Rebecca checked her watch. “There are some boxes in the spare room closet, she added. If you want to put the books away to make room for your stuff, feel free. I’d love to help, but I have to get going.”

If she was going to make it to Bramley Hollow in time for dinner with her best friend Sabrina, she needed to leave now. But she heard Chrysanthemum gasp from another room and went running.

“Are those real? Those can’t be here!” She pointed a trembling hand at Rebecca’s admittedly large collection of succulent plants and let out a delicate cough. “You did not say anything about being a collector of dusty old books and succulents.”

“I’m not a collector of—well, I can see that it looks that way.” There were at least a dozen of them; Rebecca had lost count at some point. “My ex-boyfriend—he thought I loved succulents.”

“How long has he been an ex-boyfriend?” Chrysanthemum asked, eyebrow raised.

“Oh, ages,” Rebecca said. “We’re just friends now. He’s a professor here. We …” She trailed off, thought of Tom, with his tall, gangly frame and kind smile, and how hard it had been to tell him she wasn’t in love with him. But he had moved on, was engaged to a fellow professor in his department. “Tom and I are still friends,” she concluded weakly. “And I really have to go.” At this point, Rebecca could practically hear her watch ticking a warning. Because she knew every second counted, and not just because of traffic. A few weeks earlier, Crispin Klune, Rebecca’s former classmate, now the chair of Bramley Hollow’s Business Improvement Association, had called her in a flap. He had told her if she did not return to town as soon as possible to deal with her family’s long-closed diner and apartment above that were, as he put it, “falling to rack and ruin”, there would be a town hall meeting about the matter, and action might need to be taken. Rebecca had tried to tell Crispin that since her Grannie Lenore had passed away the year before she just hadn’t had the chance to come back to town and deal with the building—but she had been paying a landscaping company to keep the grass around the building tidy, and wasn’t that enough? Apparently not. Crispin had given her a thirty day timeline and Rebecca had wondered where the sweet, bespectacled boy she had known in high school had...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2026
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 13 
9798217180080
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
321
Kontakt zum Hersteller
G.P. Putnam's Sons
https://www.penguin.com/putnam/

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