She took his hand and threaded her fingers through his. “It’s funny, isn’t it,” she said softly, “how different you and I are. And yet, you complete me. You’re the yin to my yang.”

  He picked up their hands and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Before I overreacted and screwed everything up, I had a present for you.” Reluctantly, he pulled his hand out of hers so he could dig down into his Wranglers. He pulled out a bright pink key with tiny embedded rhinestones in the top. “Tennessee Marie Rowland, will you move in with me?”

  She plucked the key out of his fingers and stared at it with wonder in her eyes. “Oh Levi,” she breathed, “it’s so perfect. So absolutely perfect.”

  As they kissed, Levi’s only thought was that no matter what Tennessee believed, ‘perfect’ really was the best way to describe the life he’d been blessed with.

  Author’s Note

  Hi, amazeballs reader! I’m so thrilled that you made it to the end of Fire and Love – I’m guessing you finished the novel because you loved it. *crossing fingers* At least, I hope you didn’t force yourself to read it all the way to the end while secretly putting pins into voodoo dolls named Erin Wright the whole time!

  Fire and Love was definitely an unusual love story because of the background of both Levi and Tennessee. As different as they are on the surface, though, they really do complete each other, or as Tenny puts it, he’s the yin to her yang. 😀

  But along with the love that I tried to portray between the two of them, I also thought it was important to touch on the difficult topic of cutting. It’s a controversial topic (as any self-harm is) so I thought I’d take a moment to tell y’all – now that you’re done with the book – why it is that I made this such a prevalent part of Fire and Love.

  About a year or so ago, I found out that my beautiful and talented and incredibly intelligent niece was cutting as a way of dealing with the things that were happening in her life that she felt she didn’t have control over. I was shocked – I had no idea that she would do something like this to herself, and of course, I immediately thought that she was trying to kill herself. It wasn’t until I started to research cutting that I found out how prevalent cutting was among teenage girls, and that my reaction to it is far from atypical. In fact, that is the most common reaction that cutters get – a freakout over the idea that the cutter is trying to commit suicide.

  As one cutter put it online, if they were trying to kill themselves, they’d be dead. In fact, they’re trying quite actively not to kill themselves. Cutters know where to cut, and how deep to cut, and they make sure to never use rusty or unclean blades. Many cutters sterilize the blades before using them, to make sure that they don’t get an infection from the cut.

  These are not the actions of someone who has a death wish.

  As Tenny says, cutting is an addiction, just like drugs or alcohol or anything else that gives you a “high” and a way of dealing with pain. Someone who starts out by cutting has a much higher statistical probability of continuing onto other high-risk activities (drugs, alcohol, unsafe sex, etc) than someone who does not cut.

  And just like with every other destructive behavior you can indulge in, there is also social pressure to cut. It can be the “cool thing” to do within a group of girls. (As Levi discovers in the book, statistically, cutters are much more likely to be girls, although there are some boy cutters out there).

  If you find that someone you care about is cutting, the most important step you can take is to find out why. The mere fact that they are cutting isn’t nearly as important as you initially might think it is; stopping them from doing it by taking away all of their blades, for example, will just mean that they will start dripping hot wax onto their skin, or inhaling paint thinner, or other self-destructive behavior.

  The problem isn’t the cutting; the problem is whatever is causing the girl to think that she needs to cut.

  That’s the problem that needs to be solved. The cutting will resolve itself naturally after that.

  The other big reveal in this book – that Levi isn’t Steve’s son after all – came as inspiration from an article I was reading on the topic of DNA tests. Since DNA tests have become so easy and prevalent, there has been case after case after case of people finding out that their parents (usually the father) isn’t who they thought they were.

  In one extreme case, two older ladies (I want to say they were in their 70s or 80s, but I can’t find the article now) found out that they’d been accidentally switched at birth. One was a redhead in a family without another redhead in sight, and the other one was the only non-athletic child in the family. She could never figure out why it was that she was absolutely awful at sports when everyone else in her family played them professionally. Because of DNA tests, they eventually figured out that they’d been swapped at birth and that their family wasn’t actually their family.

  Of course, I found this fascinating and immediately decided that it was going to end up in one of my books. (I often make the joke that I am not actually creative at all; rather, I’m just good at re-appropriating other people’s stories, lol). If you find this sort of thing as interesting as I do, you should do a Google search for stories on the topic. You’ll spend the rest of the day reading hilarious / awful / jaw-dropping / horrendous / heartwarming stories about the truth revealed by DNA tests.

  You’re welcome.

  Last but not least, I wanted to say that any author worth a bucket of warm spit will take the time to do research so they can write accurate books. As always, I have Handsome Hubby to thank for all of his help in researching Fire and Love. I had to learn how to fish so I could write the scene down at the lake accurately, and – would you believe it – I even learned how to weld so I could write that scene also. If you go back and reread that first welding scene, it’s virtually a straight recounting of how my first welding lesson went. My first weld was absolute chicken scratch, but by the third round, I’d improved immensely and my husband was in awe of how quickly I was picking it up. How cool is that?!

  (If you want to check out a super short video that my husband recorded of me welding, you can watch it here. I know you can’t tell it’s me underneath that welding helmet, heavy-duty gloves, and sweatshirt, but I promise it is!)

  The one part that isn’t true in my own life is when Levi says that he “ain’t creative.” In my case, my husband is absolutely creative. In fact, here are some shots of the yard art that he welded together, using old shovel heads:

  And here’s a close-up of just the head:

  My husband can out-weld, out-blacksmith, out-sew, out-cook, and out-fish any other person I’ve ever met. Sadly, my creative talents seem to lie solely on the written page. 😛 This just means that my hubs is the yin to my yang, too. Love you always, Reagan. ❤️

  While I’m thanking people, I also want to give a huge thank you to all of my fans for making my career possible. I literally couldn’t do it without you. Every book that you buy, every social media post that you share, every newsletter that you read, helps me succeed as an author. I have the best (most amazeballs!) fans in the world, and I hope y’all know that.

  The last book in the Firefighters of Long Valley series (Burned by Love) focuses on Troy, the quietest Sawyer City firefighter in the bunch. They always say that the quietest ones are the most interesting, and I think that you’ll agree when you read Troy’s story – it truly doesn’t get much more interesting than him. 😉 I can’t tell you more than that (and ruin the storyline!) but believe me when I say that you’ll never see it coming. Definitely keep reading for the excerpt from Burned.

  If you haven’t signed up for my newsletter yet, you should definitely do that. I send out (at most!) once a week, and in my newsletters are where I announce new releases, sales, and giveaways. I also include photos of my snuggle buddy and assistant, Jasmine the Writing Cat. She’s quite possibly the most adorable cat you’ve ever seen. #totallynotbiased

  Thanks again for all of your support – love and hugs to you all,

  ~Erin Wright

  Burned by Love

  He's a man of few words…

  Troy Horvath doesn't need much outta life. His fellow firefighters, a good beer, and...well, one date with the most gorgeous woman in town couldn't hurt, right?

  Penny is beautiful, sassy, and everything he doesn't need.

  But she's exactly who he wants.

  He knows from the get-go she isn't planning on staying in Sawyer. She just isn't a small-town girl. With those heels and her striking red lipstick, she's a firecracker, and destined for so much more.

  But maybe, just maybe, he can make all of her big-city dreams come true – if only she'll give him a chance...

  She may've friend-zoned him…

  And now Penny's realizing that may've been a mistake. Troy is hot. Like, firefighter-calendar hot.

  She swore when she came back to Sawyer to care for her mother, it would only be temporary. So…maybe a relationship with Troy could be temporary, too?

  Except deep down, Penny knows Troy wants so much more, and there's a chance she does, too.

  He's hiding something, though – something big.

  Can she be the one to finally get him to open up?

  And if she does, will their relationship survive the truth?

  Read on for a taste of Burned…

  Burned by Love Preview

  Troy

  May, 2018

  Troy Horvath had always been the quiet one of the bunch, and to be honest, he liked that about himself.

  The way he saw it, it allowed him to sit back and take in the world, without being required to yack the ear off whoever was closest to him at the moment.

  The way his aunt and uncle saw it, on the other hand, was that it allowed him to let the world pass him on by without even sparing him a second glance.

  Actually, take that back – it made his aunt think it allowed the world to pass him on by without a second glance. His uncle had never said a word about the fact that Troy wasn’t on the chatty side, at least not within earshot of Troy.

  But then again, Aunt Horvath was (not surprisingly) a woman, and as far as Troy could tell, all women ever wanted to do was talk about their feelings, dreams, and desires, preferably all at the same time, and if a man didn’t feel the same way, well then, there was something wrong with him.

  Sparky was the only female Troy knew that didn’t fall into the must-always-be-talking trap. She was content to just be, and didn’t need him willing to discuss politics, religion, or the price of bananas down at the Shop ‘N Go. Being the perfect female, all she wanted was for someone to pet her (preferably 24/7/365 if it could be arranged) and feed her doggy treats. He’d just adopted her a few days before, but they’d already formed a bond between them that was unbreakable. She trusted him with all her heart and soul, and after all she’d been through, that meant a hell of a lot.

  As if she could read his thoughts, Sparky stood up and stretched, her back arching as her mouth opened wide, showing off all her pearly white canine teeth, and then she snuggled up against his legs, looking up at him with her soulful brown eyes. She was unabashedly begging for some pettings, and of course, Troy was happy to oblige. It wasn’t hard to love on a dog that’d been through so much, but had somehow come out the other side sweet as pie. Her eyes closed in pleasure as her silky white tail began stirring up clouds of dust from the dirty cement floor.

  He coughed a little from the dirt flinging through the air, but otherwise ignored it. He was used to working in dusty environments – his uncle’s mill had dust floating through the air so thick, he could practically swim through it – so the dirty fire station floor didn’t even rate a second glance.

  No, what Troy was focused on was the Dance of Desire happening right in front of his eyes.

  He was at the monthly training session for the Sawyer Fire Department, and all of the volunteers (and the paid fire chief, Jaxson Anderson) were gathered at the station to learn better firefighting techniques or safety procedures or whatever else their brave leader wanted to teach them this time. Back when Troy’s uncle was the fire chief, they didn’t do nearly as much training as they did now, and it was certainly something that Troy could begrudgingly compliment Jaxson for improving since he took over back in January.

  This training meeting was nothing like any other training meeting, though, because this time, a female was here.

  In her typical, Georgia-Rowland-is-always-in-charge style, Georgia had voluntold the whole department that they were to be interviewed by a local reporter about the wildfire that had blazed through Long Valley over the last couple of days; a wildfire where Moose Garrett had saved her ass by breaking every rule in the book, and no doubt some that weren’t written down, just for funsies.

  Based on how Georgia and Moose were looking at each other right now, it seemed pretty damn clear to Troy that they’d done more than survive a wildfire together. Troy’s hand stroked down over Sparky’s silky fur as he watched the two pretend to be “just friends,” even as the sparks that flew between them were so blindingly bright, he probably oughta go grab his sunglasses from his truck. Did Georgia and Moose think they were being sneaky, that no one was noticing that they were sending glances to each other that were bound to set the dry grass outside ablaze and start up a second wildfire? He knew that people in lust were oblivious, but surely not that oblivious, right?

  Idly, he glanced away from the couple mooning over each other and checked his phone. This reporter guy was supposed to have arrived five minutes ago. How long were they gonna sit around and wait for him to show up before they moved on with their evening? It wasn’t that Troy had anything he needed to go home and do – although it wouldn’t hurt to do a load of laundry, and his kitchen could use a good scrubbing, none of that was pressing – but if given a choice between hanging out at the fire station and watching two lovebirds simper over each other, or being at home in just his boxers, watching a game with a beer in his hand…

  Well, that choice was pretty obvious.

  He tugged at the collar of his button-up shirt, wishing he hadn’t bothered to change before coming to the meeting that night. Normally, getting dressed up in a collared shirt so he could go hang out with a bunch of guys in a greasy, dirty building for a couple of hours was not something he’d sign up for. But because of this reporter coming tonight – wherever the hell he was – Jaxson had put out the word for everyone to come dressed and cleaned up and ready for a photo shoot, just in case that was what the reporter wanted to do. Troy scrubbed at his clean-shaven jaw with a regretful sigh. He’d had a nice seven-day start on a beard going; now he’d have to start all over again.

  Why Jaxson cared so much about what some dumbass reporter thought of them was beyond him. Uncle Horvath never would’ve stooped so low as to court the approval of the press. Chief Horvath focused on what needed to be done, and to hell with the rest of them. Jaxson seemed like a nice enough kid, but he sure had a lot to—

  The air changed just then. The chatter of the men died away; even Georgia’s giggle over whatever amazingly brilliant comment Moose had just made disappeared. Troy’s head shot up as the crackle of electricity around him made the hairs on his neck stand straight up. Not a sound was heard in the cavernous fire station, other than the click of heels on pavement as the most gorgeous woman Troy had ever seen in his life came striding into the joint.

  Holy

  Shit

  There were athletic, pretty women like Georgia Rowland. There were beauty queens like her cousin, Tennessee Rowland. There were cute, next-door-neighbor girls like Sugar Stonemyer down at the bakery, who Jaxson had started dating.

  And then, there was this woman.

  He rather felt like he’d been clobbered upside the head by a 2x4. Maybe a padded one, but there was definitely a 2x4 involved. As his gaze followed every slim curve of the woman’s body – her long legs, her strappy high heels, her tight skirt, her styled blonde hair, her ruby red lips curved into a self-confident smile – he tried to make his brain work. There was something…

  Something wrong here.

  It was…something.

  Oh yeah, why is this woman here?

  Supermodels didn’t tend to walk into a rural fire station on a Friday night just to hang out with a bunch of blue-collar guys and shoot the shit.

  That just didn’t happen.

  The roar of surprise and lust in his ears finally died down enough for him to hear what she was saying. “Hi, I’m Penny Roth,” she said as she shook hands with Levi Scranton, one of the guys on the force. “How long have you been a firefighter?”

  He missed Levi’s answer, too stunned to hear anything but the roar in his ears again. There was only one reason for this woman to be shaking hands with all the men and asking questions about being a firefighter.

  But that meant…

  His brain staggered to a stop. Seriously? This was the reporter? This paragon of beauty and legs and sparkling high heels was a reporter for the two weekly rags in the area?

  Sparky whined and nudged Troy’s hand, apparently not happy with the speed of his pettings. He looked down at her blankly for a moment, trying to remember what he was doing. Who he was. Where he was. Sparky whined again, and absentmindedly, he scratched her behind the ears, her tail resuming the rapid thumping of joy and pleasure at his touch.

  His mind swam as he tried to put the pieces together – the reporter for the Sawyer Times and Franklin Gazette was a drop-dead gorgeous woman. No spare tire around the middle; no balding spot on the back of her head; actually, no male qualities whatsoever. She appeared to be as feminine as they came.