by: Michelle Major
Series: The Carolina Girls
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 25, 2022
Publisher: HQN Books
"Major’s charming small town is packed with salt-of-the-earth people readers will embrace, and each sister’s journey is beautifully imagined. Readers will eagerly await their next visit to this idyllic community."—Publishers Weekly
This Christmas the Carlyle sisters will rediscover the gift of family
For some families, a Christmas reunion is like a feel-good movie. For Beth Carlyle, it might be more of a disaster epic. Her ex-husband’s new girlfriend is already pregnant. Her self-absorbed, bestselling author mother recently suffered a stroke and has summoned Beth’s sisters, Freya and Trinity—neither of whom even seem to like Beth very much—back to Magnolia. Beth’s so lonely and stressed that she spills her guts to a stranger, wondering why the handsome newcomer affects her so deeply. Reality TV star Freya deliberately forged a career that would upset her mother, who’s always been as brilliant as the sun…and just as distant. Now a handsome literary agent is making Freya dream of a different life. As for Trinity, she just wants to start over after leaving an abusive relationship and make a future for her and her baby.
It’ll be a Christmas like no other in Magnolia. But the Carlyle sisters might find they have more in common than their shared past—and that the holidays are made for second chances.
Includes a bonus holiday novella set in Magnolia!
BETH CARLYLE’S DAY couldn’t get any worse.
That’s what she told herself as she walked through Magnolia Community Hospital toward the stairwell at the end of the third floor hallway.
A familiar voice called her name. She turned to see Dr. Greg Madison, chief of staff and her ex-husband, beckoning to her. A frown marred his boyishly handsome features.
Apparently, her day could get worse.
She felt her coworkers watching as she moved toward Greg’s small office. When she’d filed for divorce over a year ago, there had been quite a bit of conjecture among the hospital staff. Everyone seemed to relish the demise of Beth’s marriage, enthusiastically choosing sides—Team Beth or Team Greg— and placing bets on whether they’d be able to continue working together.
All very Grey’s Anatomy-type entertainment, except Beth had made sure the drama never materialized. She and Greg remained friendly, if not close, a sore disappointment to the workplace gossip machine.
Beth Carlyle—she’d returned to her maiden name as soon as the papers were signed—didn’t do drama.
Not usually. Not on purpose.
Today had been a weak moment. Beth detested weakness, which was why she started explaining before Greg had even shut the door behind her.
“The stress is getting to me,” she admitted as she glanced around the familiar space. They used to have lunch there together, but she hadn’t entered his office for months. He’d taken down the framed photos of the two of them, and she waited for pain or regret to zap her heart.
Nothing happened. Did that speak more about her current state of agitation or was the message how easily she’d gotten over the demise of their eight-year union?
She’d think about that later with a big glass of wine to keep her company.
Greg moved behind his big mahogany desk, the one she’d helped him choose, then stalked toward her again like he couldn’t force himself to stay still. “Beth.”
“I was out of line, and I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to the patient, as well. We know each other from—”
“Beth, this isn’t about you.”
She took a breath and studied her ex, noticing the tension lines that bracketed his mouth and the way his warm brown eyes were wide as chocolate saucers.
“Is it my mom?” Her hands clenched into fists at her side. “I talked to the charge nurse from the rehab center this morning. She said—”
“You mom is okay, at least as far as I know.” Greg ran a hand through his hair, a similar shade of brown as his eyes. His hair had been thick and wavy when they’d met during his final year of med school, but recently it had gone fine on the top. Was that a tiny paunch around his middle?
Beth had too much on her plate to pay close attention to her ex-husband, although it was a hard habit to break. She guessed he’d reverted to his preferred diet of microwave meals and processed snacks instead of the healthy food she’d prepared for both of them while they were married.
Stop, she silently commanded herself. Greg wasn’t her problem anymore, not his diet or his hair or any number of things she taken care of during their decade together. If Beth had a love language, it would be acts of service. Too often that service felt more like a burden than a function of love. Sometimes it was hard for her to tell the difference.
“Greg, this isn’t a good time,” she said, imagining he wanted help buying Christmas gifts for his parents or staff.
They’d been newly separated last holiday season, so Beth had automatically handled his purchases. She had a trusty app on her phone that took care of lists and links—easy enough. But she’d forced herself to delete that app over the summer when she found herself mentally adding items for her ex-husband.
It was a good thing he wasn’t on her docket of people to care for because due to her mother’s stroke a week ago, she was dealing with way more than she could handle, and Beth was known for dealing with a lot.
She made a move to step around him, but his hand on her arm stopped her. How long had it been since his touch had affected her? Beth sometimes wondered if she was still capable of reacting to a man.
“Lucy is pregnant.”
Beth stilled, and it felt like the place where his skin touched hers had turned to stone. Not exactly the reaction she wanted. “I don’t understand,” she murmured, only realizing she’d said the words out loud when Greg answered.
“She’s having a baby.”
“I know what pregnant means.”
“I’m going to be a father,” he continued as if she still needed the clarification. “It wasn’t exactly the plan, but you know how much I want to be a father.”
Those words struck like a blow. Of course she’d known he wanted a baby of his own. She was the one who’d spent the last five years dealing with fertility treatments—hormones and shots and sex dictated by her cycle and the calendar.
Beth was thirty-three. No spring chicken when it came to her ovaries. Even when she’d been younger, motherhood had eluded her. Getting pregnant she could manage. Staying pregnant, not so much.
Excerpted from The Wish List by Michelle Major. Copyright © 2022 by Michelle Major. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
That’s what she told herself as she walked through Magnolia Community Hospital toward the stairwell at the end of the third floor hallway.
A familiar voice called her name. She turned to see Dr. Greg Madison, chief of staff and her ex-husband, beckoning to her. A frown marred his boyishly handsome features.
Apparently, her day could get worse.
She felt her coworkers watching as she moved toward Greg’s small office. When she’d filed for divorce over a year ago, there had been quite a bit of conjecture among the hospital staff. Everyone seemed to relish the demise of Beth’s marriage, enthusiastically choosing sides—Team Beth or Team Greg— and placing bets on whether they’d be able to continue working together.
All very Grey’s Anatomy-type entertainment, except Beth had made sure the drama never materialized. She and Greg remained friendly, if not close, a sore disappointment to the workplace gossip machine.
Beth Carlyle—she’d returned to her maiden name as soon as the papers were signed—didn’t do drama.
Not usually. Not on purpose.
Today had been a weak moment. Beth detested weakness, which was why she started explaining before Greg had even shut the door behind her.
“The stress is getting to me,” she admitted as she glanced around the familiar space. They used to have lunch there together, but she hadn’t entered his office for months. He’d taken down the framed photos of the two of them, and she waited for pain or regret to zap her heart.
Nothing happened. Did that speak more about her current state of agitation or was the message how easily she’d gotten over the demise of their eight-year union?
She’d think about that later with a big glass of wine to keep her company.
Greg moved behind his big mahogany desk, the one she’d helped him choose, then stalked toward her again like he couldn’t force himself to stay still. “Beth.”
“I was out of line, and I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to the patient, as well. We know each other from—”
“Beth, this isn’t about you.”
She took a breath and studied her ex, noticing the tension lines that bracketed his mouth and the way his warm brown eyes were wide as chocolate saucers.
“Is it my mom?” Her hands clenched into fists at her side. “I talked to the charge nurse from the rehab center this morning. She said—”
“You mom is okay, at least as far as I know.” Greg ran a hand through his hair, a similar shade of brown as his eyes. His hair had been thick and wavy when they’d met during his final year of med school, but recently it had gone fine on the top. Was that a tiny paunch around his middle?
Beth had too much on her plate to pay close attention to her ex-husband, although it was a hard habit to break. She guessed he’d reverted to his preferred diet of microwave meals and processed snacks instead of the healthy food she’d prepared for both of them while they were married.
Stop, she silently commanded herself. Greg wasn’t her problem anymore, not his diet or his hair or any number of things she taken care of during their decade together. If Beth had a love language, it would be acts of service. Too often that service felt more like a burden than a function of love. Sometimes it was hard for her to tell the difference.
“Greg, this isn’t a good time,” she said, imagining he wanted help buying Christmas gifts for his parents or staff.
They’d been newly separated last holiday season, so Beth had automatically handled his purchases. She had a trusty app on her phone that took care of lists and links—easy enough. But she’d forced herself to delete that app over the summer when she found herself mentally adding items for her ex-husband.
It was a good thing he wasn’t on her docket of people to care for because due to her mother’s stroke a week ago, she was dealing with way more than she could handle, and Beth was known for dealing with a lot.
She made a move to step around him, but his hand on her arm stopped her. How long had it been since his touch had affected her? Beth sometimes wondered if she was still capable of reacting to a man.
“Lucy is pregnant.”
Beth stilled, and it felt like the place where his skin touched hers had turned to stone. Not exactly the reaction she wanted. “I don’t understand,” she murmured, only realizing she’d said the words out loud when Greg answered.
“She’s having a baby.”
“I know what pregnant means.”
“I’m going to be a father,” he continued as if she still needed the clarification. “It wasn’t exactly the plan, but you know how much I want to be a father.”
Those words struck like a blow. Of course she’d known he wanted a baby of his own. She was the one who’d spent the last five years dealing with fertility treatments—hormones and shots and sex dictated by her cycle and the calendar.
Beth was thirty-three. No spring chicken when it came to her ovaries. Even when she’d been younger, motherhood had eluded her. Getting pregnant she could manage. Staying pregnant, not so much.
Excerpted from The Wish List by Michelle Major. Copyright © 2022 by Michelle Major. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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