Ellie:
I came home to Sugar Creek bruised but not broken. Music school in Boston was supposed to be my dream, but somewhere along the way, I stopped hearing my own voice. Between the pressure, the silence I kept about my ex, and the expectations I’ve piled onto myself, I’m unraveling. This summer is meant to be a quiet reset—until I’m paired with Owen Harper for the town scavenger hunt. Now, the boy I barely noticed in high school sees me in ways no one else ever has.
Owen:
I never planned on staying in Sugar Creek. I had an offer from a gaming studio and a future lined up… until my mom got sick. Now I split my days between caring for her and working at the local game shop, quietly building something I never thought I’d share. Then Ellie Fletcher walks back into town with her guarded smile and that spark I haven’t felt in years. Creating something with her—for the game, for the town, for ourselves—feels like a glimpse of everything I thought I lost.
Ellie vs The New Year’s Kiss is a slow-burn romance about two people rebuilding from the inside out. It’s about finding your voice, choosing your future, and deciding whether love is something that holds you back—or helps you become who you were meant to be.
This is the fifth book in a series, so it should have a following. I'm putting money into marketing it for its November 2025 release through Bookbub.
I press harder on the bow, the note turning jagged.
I don’t know how to trust anymore. Not him, not anyone. Not even myself. He chipped away at me little by little until there was nothing left but the version of me he could control. And now, without him, I feel empty and lost.
Lonely.
The bow slips, creating a dissonant sound that makes me wince. I grip the neck of the cello tightly as my vision blurs with tears. And that makes me so mad. I can’t allow Jordan to keep making me miserable.
I cradle the neck of the cello as if it were a friend, begging it to bear my sorrow.
The melody starts low and hesitant, reflecting the weight in my chest. Each note carries the pain I’ve been holding onto—the doubt, the isolation, the fear that I’ll never be me again. But as I keep playing, the melody shifts.
A memory of Owen from earlier in the night comes to mind. I concentrate on the way he stopped walking to tell me how much he loved my ideas. There wasn’t any guile in his eyes, and his warm voice made me believe his words.
Next, I think of how excited he was to share his project with me. He was so willing to hear me, and then to use my ideas for his game. The memory of his earnestness sends a ripple through me, like the faintest note of a song resonating deep within my soul. I close my eyes, drawing the bow across the strings as his laughter echoes behind my eyelids.
I feel the heat of his gratitude, like sunlight filtering through a storm.
The haunting tones come to life with a melody full of longing. But now, tangled with my pain, the song grows deeper and richer as it reaches for a lightness I don’t yet feel. It becomes something else. It’s the song I heard when Owen described the Nexus.
