My Entangled book releasing this week, A Man of Honor, is about a rather tortured military hero who believes his injuries from the war and his across-the-tracks past are more than enough to keep him away from the woman he loves, Cat Kingston.
Cat’s had an unlucky couple of years—a broken engagement, loss of her job, and Preston suddenly ghosting on her just when she thought her luck had finally changed. When she learns a secret he’s kept that indicates his true feelings, she decides to do everything in her power to help him overcome his demons.
This is one of my favorite scenes from the book, as Preston is trying to fix Cat up with another guy, and doing a terrible job of it…
“It’s okay,” she said, ready to dig into her own burger. “We can change the subject.”
He put down his burger and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I took a bullet for one of my squadron mates. I jumped in instinctively, but I wasn’t quite fast enough to get us both out of the way. It caught me in the leg and shattered my knee.”
“What about your buddy?”
“He and his wife just had a baby girl.”
Her eyes began to tear up suddenly.
He shifted in his seat. “Oh, come on now, don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.” She swiped at the corners of her eyes.
“I bet you cry at sappy old movies. And weddings.”
“Don’t forget baptisms, baby showers, and bar mitzvahs, too.”
“Well then, get ready to open the floodgates. Want to know the best part?”
“They asked me to be godfather.” Then the smart-ass handed over his napkin.
She used it to daub at her eyes even as she rolled them at him. He sat across from her and chuckled.
“You’re a hero,” she said. “Whatever bad feelings you have about the war, at least you know you did a good thing. A really good thing.”
“It’s not the people you helped that gets you. It’s the men you couldn’t save.”
Their gazes caught again across the tiny table. He had the most expressive blue eyes. The same color as the summer sky behind him, and so full of feeling, Cat could not imagine what he had gone through in combat. She wished she could say something, anything funny to bring the laughter back into them, but words escaped her.
“I was just doing my job,” he said in a detached tone. “And speaking of doing my job, I found you a prospect. To date.” He pulled out an iPad from his briefcase. “An investment banker. I’ve known him a long time. I can vouch for the fact that he’s a great guy.”
“Oh, wonderful.” She rubbed her hands together in faux excitement, but deep down, she didn’t have the heart for it.
The man on the screen was white haired. Not gray on the sides or even gray all over but as stark white as a bleached sheet flapping in the breeze.
“I’ve known Carlos since I graduated from college.”
“Is he your grandfather?”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
“Has he been married?”
“He’s a widower.”
She shut the iPad. “This does not count as a genuine prospect.”
“I can’t help it if you shallowly reject good candidates based solely on their appearance.”
“I am not shallow.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what else I would call it.”
“I’m not attracted to fifty-three-year-olds. And he doesn’t even look fifty-three. He looks seventy-three.”
“Your problem, not mine.”
“You suck at this!”
“Maybe you can help me narrow my search by telling me what you’re looking for in a guy.”
Miranda Liasson loves to write stories about courageous but flawed characters who find love despite themselves, because there’s nothing like a great love story. And if there are a few laughs along the way, even better! She’s a former Golden Heart winner who writes series romance for Entangled Publishing and lighthearted contemporary romance for Montlake Publishing. She lives in the Midwest with her husband, three kids, and Posey, a rescue cat with attitude.