Murphy's Laws

Thirty Days. Seven Rules. One Unexpected Love.

Murphy Clarke has built a career around control. After being left at the altar, she writes seven rules to guard her heart—starting with “Never take vacations.” But when her sister insists on a month-long getaway to Summer’s Beach, North Carolina, Murphy’s rules begin to unravel—starting with a yoga class, a business call, and a very smug instructor named Noah Andrews.

Noah was once a rising star in the San Francisco tech world, until a heart attack—and a painful breakup—forced him to slow down. The last thing he wants is to fall for another workaholic. But Murphy, with all her defenses and contradictions, keeps showing up in his life—and eventually, in his heart.

From moonlit dances and Ferris wheel kisses to scrappy community efforts and second chances, Murphy’s Laws is a warm, witty romance about what happens when you stop following your own rules... and start trusting love instead.

Start reading Murphy’s Laws today and fall for a love story where breaking the rules might be the only way forward.

Excerpt from the book

Murphy

It looked as if the yoga class was about to end. Thank you, Jesus. And not a moment too soon. Murphy Clarke hadn’t intended to spend the third anniversary of her un-wedding in a yoga class some six hundred fifty miles away from home. But somehow her annoyingly perky sister, TC, had worn her down.

As a life coach, she couldn’t just take a month off, like her sister, the teacher, could. Her responsibilities didn’t end at the beginning of summer. She had developed a set of rules, and here she was, breaking the first.

That’s how she found herself in Summer’s Beach, North Carolina, staring at the boyishly handsome instructor who had a penchant for torturing his students with contortionist poses.

She sat up and was nearly standing when—

“It’s time for our ending meditation. Take the stillness and peace of this session as well as the silence into the world with you today.”

Murphy sighed as she sat back down. Apparently, rather loudly. Not only did her sister and their friend, Eli, scowl at her, the instructor fixed a spine-chilling stare at her with his steel-gray eyes. Again. She had walked in ten minutes late—through no fault of her own. Well, her client, Amelia, had a crisis and she couldn’t leave her hanging. She had to take the call. He had flashed her one of those if-looks-could-kill stares.

Grimacing as she assumed the half-lotus pose, she placed her index fingers to her thumbs and slowly breathed out an om. She checked on her sister. Full lotus. Show off.

“Ommmm.” The instructor breathed out. The students followed with their own om, strung out so it felt as if the entire room was vibrating.

Brrnng! Brnng! Murphy’s cellphone broke the silence. Damn it. She reached into her tote bag and fumbled for it.

Brnng! Brnng! Her cheeks burning, she rooted around the large vacation bag and grabbed it.

“Murphy here. How may I help you…Josh…wait a second.”

She rose, gave the instructor a shrug, and walked to the back of the room.

“No, I don’t think so. I think at this point in your life you’re exactly where you need to be. Don’t you feel it?”

Josh Millcreek was one of Murphy’s first life coach clients. His level of self-confidence fluctuated over the three years of their relationship. This most recent crisis would end soon. She just needed to be there for him. And vacation or not, that’s what she intended to do.

She held the phone in front of her, nearly parallel to the floor as she talked. “You’re not your old—”

A shadow hovered over her phone. She blinked. Frowning, she looked up to see the yoga instructor. His eyes bore into her. He snatched the phone from her hand. She shivered as a spark of electricity skittered up her arm. She swallowed hard.

“What the…?”

The yoga instructor grabbed her phone? The tall, handsome instructor? The one with broad shoulders? And loosely curled caramel-colored hair? She imagined if he’d ever smile, he’d probably have adorable laugh lines. For a split second, she was lost in his penetrating eyes and those shoulders—far too broad to belong to a yoga instructor.