by: Michelle Lindo-Rice
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 24, 2023
Publisher: Harlequin Special Edition
Sworn off love, they’ll soon discover
As valentines, they’re into each other!
When radio personalities Selena Cartwright and Trent Moon share their Valentine’s Day trauma stories and why they’ve sworn off love, the gala celebrating singlehood is born! Planning the event has Trent and Selena seeing—and wanting—each other more than just professionally. But if they’re found out, it could ruin their reputations and careers. As the gala approaches, can they overcome past heartache and possibly discover that Trent + Selena = True Love 4-Ever?
From under his lashes, Trent studied his cohost, admiring her cream tank top and brown pantsuit. Her signature color scheme. She had completed her look with chunky gold accessories and light makeup. Even her lipstick was a glossy shade of brown. Selena tended to favor muted tones, something he believed she had adopted as a therapist. Trent found her style classy. She had told him once she didn’t want to be sexualized. Or had she mentioned it on air? He couldn’t remember, but with those high cheekbones, full lips, thick lashes and generous curves, there was no disguising her beauty.
She didn’t know it, but his friends James and Dontae had ragged on him for weeks, begging for introductions once they had seen how fine she was. A request Trent had denied. He liked to keep his professional and personal lives separate. In their twenty-two months together, his interactions with his cohost were limited to their airtime and planning for the next day.
He heard the countdown signaling that they were about to go on air and cleared his throat. Then he greeted their listeners and gave an update on the weather before jumping into their first segment.
“It’s time for us to Listen to Our Listeners,” he said and waited as Carla cued the intro.
Once Selena had joined the show, their audience had begun sending emails and letters seeking advice, and their ratings had blown up. To handle the large influx of communication, their assistants read most of the mail and provided Trent and Selena with five letters each to read. They would then choose one or two to share during the show and offer suggestions. Listeners would also call in and express their thoughts. The segment was a huge success.
Carla had already tossed around the idea of expanding their hour to ninety minutes. That’s why he had pushed for Selena to receive equal pay though she didn’t have the ten years’ on-air experience he had.
Selena chimed in. “I have a letter from a listener who calls herself ‘A Crying Heart.’”
Trent tensed with the memory of the powerful visual imagery in the letter. Selena believed an English major had penned the words. Trent had pushed for Selena to read it, though his cohost had felt it too personal. After muting his microphone, he picked up one of the ginger mints, unwrapped it and plopped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the strong sensation and listening to Selena’s singsong voice, which depicted her Jamaican heritage. She had migrated to America at ten years old and, though she was a naturalized citizen, had maintained her accent and culture.
Selena moved closer to her microphone and began to read, and he felt everything around him still.
Selena took a sip of water and continued.
Trent swallowed the last of his mint and turned on his microphone. In a subdued tone, he said, “Wow. I felt every nuance in each word. A Crying Heart, we hear you and thank you for sharing your most intimate thoughts with us. I found your letter honest and raw. How about we take our first caller to get some listener feedback?” He pressed one of the open lines and smiled at Selena, who was giving him a look of gratitude. Her cheeks were a little flushed and her lashes spiky. I got you, he mouthed.
“Hello? Am I on the air?” a woman asked. Her voice cracked and she sniffled.
“Yes, you’re live with Trent and Selena,” Selena said in a calm tone.
Trent admired her professionalism. He focused on the caller.
“I want to say that I’m glad A Crying Heart had the courage to write what I’ve been feeling all these years. I’m happily single and it’s awful that I have to endure my family asking me when I’m going to find someone, giving me looks of pity. Like I’m good for the most part. Except when Valentine’s Day comes around, slapping me in my face. I know that February 14 is all about love but I hate that day with a passion.”
He gave a small chuckle of understanding. “Imagine the irony of hating a day that is supposed to be about love.”
“I know,” the caller breathed. “I feel guilty but I absolutely despise it. It feels so good to admit this to someone.”
“Thank you so much for sharing,” Selena said before taking another caller.
This time it was a young man. “Yo, tell me why, I’m so glad I was turning the dial and heard this. Cuz I’m good, too. My mother is on me to give her a grandchild. But I want to travel. I want to do things.”
And the calls continued.
“I hate being single,” someone said. “I buy myself flowers and chocolates so I don’t feel so pitiful.”
“I don’t like being alone,” another voiced.
“I hate it.”
“I think Valentine’s all about commercialism.”
The comments kept coming. They spent the rest of the hour taking calls, moving with the flow. Trent and Selena could hardly keep up with the outpour and they tabled their talk on pumpkin spice. She had reached into her bag for her phone and had read some of their social media comments.
“A Crying Heart, you started something tonight,” Trent said once they were at the end. “Let’s keep this conversation going. Please send us your comments and stories using the hashtag ValentineSingle and we will continue this tomorrow.”
“Thanks for tuning in with us tonight and until then—”
Selena surprised him when she interrupted with, “A Crying Heart, I hope you call in tomorrow before the weekend. I’d love to talk to you because I, too, hate Valentine’s Day.”
His mouth dropped. In slow motion. The holidays brought their biggest sponsors. He avoided looking into the booth, knowing Carla was probably about to pass out. Selena slipped back into her chair with a huge grin on her face, like she didn’t know what she had just done.
Trent evoked every ounce of experience he possessed to keep from stammering through the signature slogan. “Keep your dreams sweet and your hope strong. Good night.” He disconnected his microphone and looked at the woman he had always seen as constant. The woman who sat with her arms folded, holding an expression similar to Angela Bassett’s after setting a car on fire in the blockbuster classic Waiting to Exhale. Then he asked, “What did you just do?”
She didn’t know it, but his friends James and Dontae had ragged on him for weeks, begging for introductions once they had seen how fine she was. A request Trent had denied. He liked to keep his professional and personal lives separate. In their twenty-two months together, his interactions with his cohost were limited to their airtime and planning for the next day.
He heard the countdown signaling that they were about to go on air and cleared his throat. Then he greeted their listeners and gave an update on the weather before jumping into their first segment.
“It’s time for us to Listen to Our Listeners,” he said and waited as Carla cued the intro.
Once Selena had joined the show, their audience had begun sending emails and letters seeking advice, and their ratings had blown up. To handle the large influx of communication, their assistants read most of the mail and provided Trent and Selena with five letters each to read. They would then choose one or two to share during the show and offer suggestions. Listeners would also call in and express their thoughts. The segment was a huge success.
Carla had already tossed around the idea of expanding their hour to ninety minutes. That’s why he had pushed for Selena to receive equal pay though she didn’t have the ten years’ on-air experience he had.
Selena chimed in. “I have a letter from a listener who calls herself ‘A Crying Heart.’”
Trent tensed with the memory of the powerful visual imagery in the letter. Selena believed an English major had penned the words. Trent had pushed for Selena to read it, though his cohost had felt it too personal. After muting his microphone, he picked up one of the ginger mints, unwrapped it and plopped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the strong sensation and listening to Selena’s singsong voice, which depicted her Jamaican heritage. She had migrated to America at ten years old and, though she was a naturalized citizen, had maintained her accent and culture.
Selena moved closer to her microphone and began to read, and he felt everything around him still.
“‘Every year about this time, a sense of dread begins to fill my being. All around me, there is a beauty that comes from the colorful foliage. Families unite over steaming mugs of trendy themed coffees and engage in social activities meant to bring them closer together; end the year with goodwill. I move with the bustle of the crowd, smiling at the appropriate time, voicing the right sentiment, but on the inside, I am withering, dying like a tree left bare after shedding its leaves. I feel alone.’”His heart squeezed even though he knew the contents of the letter. Hearing the words read aloud evoked strong emotions. Selena’s intonation moved him and their listeners were responding, judging by the flashing phone lines.
Selena took a sip of water and continued.
“‘For the first time this year, I don’t want to pretend. I want to wallow, submerge myself until I am overwhelmed under the grief of being alone especially with Valentine’s Day coming in about three months. The worst holiday of all because it beams on me with the brightness of the sun and I am left alone under the heat of the spotlight, shouting my singleness. My heart aches as I wait for spring and the end to all this madness, where for a few months I can embrace being all right with myself. But until then, my heart bleeds.’Selena reached for the box of tissues and dabbed her eyes.
“Signed, ‘A Crying Heart.’”
Trent swallowed the last of his mint and turned on his microphone. In a subdued tone, he said, “Wow. I felt every nuance in each word. A Crying Heart, we hear you and thank you for sharing your most intimate thoughts with us. I found your letter honest and raw. How about we take our first caller to get some listener feedback?” He pressed one of the open lines and smiled at Selena, who was giving him a look of gratitude. Her cheeks were a little flushed and her lashes spiky. I got you, he mouthed.
“Hello? Am I on the air?” a woman asked. Her voice cracked and she sniffled.
“Yes, you’re live with Trent and Selena,” Selena said in a calm tone.
Trent admired her professionalism. He focused on the caller.
“I want to say that I’m glad A Crying Heart had the courage to write what I’ve been feeling all these years. I’m happily single and it’s awful that I have to endure my family asking me when I’m going to find someone, giving me looks of pity. Like I’m good for the most part. Except when Valentine’s Day comes around, slapping me in my face. I know that February 14 is all about love but I hate that day with a passion.”
He gave a small chuckle of understanding. “Imagine the irony of hating a day that is supposed to be about love.”
“I know,” the caller breathed. “I feel guilty but I absolutely despise it. It feels so good to admit this to someone.”
“Thank you so much for sharing,” Selena said before taking another caller.
This time it was a young man. “Yo, tell me why, I’m so glad I was turning the dial and heard this. Cuz I’m good, too. My mother is on me to give her a grandchild. But I want to travel. I want to do things.”
And the calls continued.
“I hate being single,” someone said. “I buy myself flowers and chocolates so I don’t feel so pitiful.”
“I don’t like being alone,” another voiced.
“I hate it.”
“I think Valentine’s all about commercialism.”
The comments kept coming. They spent the rest of the hour taking calls, moving with the flow. Trent and Selena could hardly keep up with the outpour and they tabled their talk on pumpkin spice. She had reached into her bag for her phone and had read some of their social media comments.
“A Crying Heart, you started something tonight,” Trent said once they were at the end. “Let’s keep this conversation going. Please send us your comments and stories using the hashtag ValentineSingle and we will continue this tomorrow.”
“Thanks for tuning in with us tonight and until then—”
Selena surprised him when she interrupted with, “A Crying Heart, I hope you call in tomorrow before the weekend. I’d love to talk to you because I, too, hate Valentine’s Day.”
His mouth dropped. In slow motion. The holidays brought their biggest sponsors. He avoided looking into the booth, knowing Carla was probably about to pass out. Selena slipped back into her chair with a huge grin on her face, like she didn’t know what she had just done.
Trent evoked every ounce of experience he possessed to keep from stammering through the signature slogan. “Keep your dreams sweet and your hope strong. Good night.” He disconnected his microphone and looked at the woman he had always seen as constant. The woman who sat with her arms folded, holding an expression similar to Angela Bassett’s after setting a car on fire in the blockbuster classic Waiting to Exhale. Then he asked, “What did you just do?”
Excerpted from The Valentine’s Do-Over by Michelle Lindo-Rice. Copyright © 2023 by Michelle Lindo-Rice. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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amazing excerpt!
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