New Release - Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man by Ella Braeme
- 4 days ago
- 5 min read
Today my guest is Ella Braeme with her new release - Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man, a small town romance. Welcome Ella!
Blurb:
How can I tell the love of my life we’re having a baby if he doesn’t
even remember having had sex?
After a passionate, unforgettable night with my best friend, a tragic accident leaves
him with no memory of our fiery connection. As I navigate the complexities of our
altered relationship, I'm grappling with an unexpected pregnancy. Going back to
being best friends now is impossible. Can I reignite the spark in his heart before he
learns of the baby and feels obligated to stay?
Dive into the enthralling world of Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man—a tale brimming
with small-town charm and a gentle touch of steam. Experience an emotional journey
towards a happily ever after in this standalone instalment of the Elken Grove Mountain
Men series.
♥ surprise baby ♥ friends to lovers ♥ mountain man ♥ Appalachia ♥ amnesia ♥ small
town ♥
Review quotes:
This is so sweet it hurts.
You will love what happens with these two and the wild love they have for each
other.
This is a friends to lovers, second chance love story....but with a twist.
Excerpt of Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man:
Everybody in this town is in on the big, fat secret: I’ve had sex with Finn Winslow, and
he’s forgotten all about it.
As a result, they are awkward around me. I can’t even blame them. In most places, I
guess, I’d be the victim of lewd comments, judging glances, and sexual innuendo. But
not in Elken Grove. Here, the townsfolk offer clumsy side-glances and full-on pity.
Take this morning, for example. As usual, I write the special on the board behind
the cash register. Stretching my plump, short frame, I carefully chalk today’s special.
It’s peanut bar day, a favorite of our customers. Can’t blame them. Together with the
sprinkles of dark chocolate and gooey salted caramel, it’s a slice of heaven.
Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, regulars for their daily coffee and pastry, come in. Mrs.
Hartley stares at the board as if seeing it for the first time. She opens and closes her
mouth a couple of times, reminding me of a carp. I’ve never seen a carp in real life, but
this is how it must look. Mr. Hartley gently touches her arm and says to me, in a
soothing voice, “We’ll have red velvet muffins, please, dear.”
There is nothing wrong with our red velvet muffins. But since when don’t the
Hartleys jump at a chance to get the peanut bar?
Robin, the coffee shop’s owner, looks on, and once the Hartleys are at their usual
table by the corner window, takes a closer look at the board. And that’s when I see it,
too. “Peenut bar w/dark chocolate and caramel.”
Much less than missing out on a peanut bar, Mr. Hartley would miss a chance for a
stupid sexual joke. Instead, he called me “dear” and almost patted my hand. That’s
how the folks of Elken Grove treat me now. I know it’s meant to be considerate, but
it’s wearing thin.
Robin, taller than me, swiftly erases the offending E.
“Gimme that,” I say. “Your handwriting should not be on promotional boards.”
Robin sighs in mock relief. “She’s talking.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Lately, you’ve seemed unfocused and unusually quiet. Don’t lose your spunk, girl.”
I huff. My spunk has long since faded. For months now, everybody in this town has
felt entitled to discuss intensely private matters with me. Like how sad it was that the
night both of Finn’s brothers got married ended this tragically: I finally got together
with the man I’ve loved for years, and that’s when the thrift store under my apartment
caught fire and the building burned down. We had to jump from the second-floor
window, stark naked. Finn badly injured his leg and was whisked away to the hospital
and rehab. I haven’t seen him since, haven’t even gotten in touch with him. He’s got
memory issues, and the doctor insisted on complete rest and no contact unless he
initiates it. Which he hasn’t, but for a few texts. I know he hates writing, and his texts
showed that he cared about me, but were disappointingly friendly. He is his usual
carefree self, only he doesn’t remember anything about the night of his accident.
Which includes having had sex with me.
But Robin is right, I’m letting myself go. I suppress a sigh and resolve to fake it until
I make it. I snatch the chalk. “I’m sorry, I’ll just redo the board.”
Robin looks unconvinced. That’s what you get when you’re friends with your boss:
well-meant meddling.
Meghan comes in and rattles off her order for the hardware store. As I make her
coffees, and we chat about the unusually mild, but rainy March weather, I feel almost
normal. When she leaves, she passes a grinning Patty Winslow in the door. My heart
starts beating like a drum. I haven’t seen Finn’s mother this happy since before the
night of the fire, so maybe she’s bringing good news. Perhaps I finally will be able to
talk to Finn.
Patty comes straight for me. She takes my hands in hers and, with tears in her
eyes, announces, “He’s coming home. He just called from the road.” A sob escapes her.
“He’ll be home this afternoon.”
My knees weaken and tears well up, but my face breaks into the biggest grin ever.
He’s coming home!
Patty looks around at the customers present. The Hartleys are here, and Mr. Vance
is—they are the biggest gossips in town. Soon everyone will know that Finn is
returning.
With a loud voice to make sure everybody hears, she declares, “I spoke with the
doctor again, and he stressed how crucial it is for Finn to remember that night on his
own. No one is to tell him. He needs to remember by himself.”
I’ve never understood that. Don’t doctors usually encourage patients meeting their
friends and family? Talking about what happened? This feels wrong, but my formal
education ended when I left high school, so I wouldn’t know anything about amnesia
but for what I’ve read about since that night.
Patty turns back to me. “I’m sorry, dear. You’ll have to be patient a little longer. But
the doctor is confident that, if you really matter to him, Finn will remember sooner or
later.”
What if he doesn’t? Am I not important enough to be remembered?
How can I possibly tell him we’re having a baby when I’m not allowed to remind
him we’ve had sex?
About the author:
Ella writes sweet'n'steamy romances that are meant to provide short vacations from
your everyday life. She loves to read, mostly romances, of course, and to putter
around in her backyard, forever trying to turn it into a blooming garden. She’s got a
dog who is helping greatly with all the garden work by supervising everything Ella
does and—for the most part—not digging up her flowers.
Meet Ella:
Follow Ella on Instagram @ellawritesromance
or on BlueSky https://bsky.app/profile/ellawritesromance.bsky.social
Sign-up to her emails and get a free novella https://ellabraeme.com/newsletter.htm
Visit the website https://ellabraeme.com
Other books by Ella Braeme:
Contemporary Romance
Elken Grove Mountain Men
Married in Windfall
Married in Windfall (the entire series available as paperback)
Suspense Romance
Shielded Hearts
Mountain Hideout ← free with sign-up
Thanks for being my guest, Ella!