A Bard's Rest Romance #2
The Dane of My Existence by Jessica Martin
Taken from Goodreads: When the history and character of her Shakespeare-obsessed hometown is threatened, a powerhouse lawyer goes toe to toe with a commercial developer in a hilarious rom-com from the author of For the Love of the Bard.
Portia Barnes is the youngest Mergers & Acquisitions partner in her law firm's history, and she and her stilettos are poised to step into the role of her dreams--managing the firm's new Boston office. But first she's taking a summer sabbatical in her hometown of Bard's Rest, New Hampshire, where she discovers something's rotten in the midst of the town's annual Shakespeare festival.
Hotshot commercial developer Benjamin Dane is sniffing around Bard's, and while Portia isn't necessarily a Shakespeare fanatic like the rest of her family, she's not about to let him bulldoze the town's beloved outdoor theater. Yet to Portia's dismay, Ben proves as skilled as she is when it comes to outworking, outmaneuvering, and one-upping the competition. While she's never hesitated to wage war against hyper-successful alpha males, Portia is caught off guard by Ben's openness and lack of arrogance. As her own long-constructed walls start to come down, Portia begins to wonder if he might be more than an archnemesis.
With her heart on the line and the future of the town hanging in the balance, Portia faces an impossible decision--Ben or Bard's?--unless she finds a way to broker the merger of her life, and ensures the curtain falls on a happy ending for everyone.
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Meet Jessica Martin (taken from her website): I’m a lawyer by trade, a writer by choice and a complete smartass by all accounts. I live in the suburban wilds of Boston with a finance geek, a small sass-based human and a pair of dogs named after Bond characters.
Books, dogs and Bard's Rest got me through this pandemic. An embarrassing amount of time was spent editing this book in the front seat of my car in a state forest by my house. There was a lot of Chapstick, lukewarm tea and weird looks from passing teenagers involved.
This book is a love letter in more ways than one. Growing up in New England, my best summers were spent in tiny New Hampshire towns swimming in lakes with silty bottoms at the base of mountains. As far as I’m aware, there’s no town of Bard enthusiasts holed up in the granite state putting on an annual Shakespeare festival. But don’t you think there should be?