The Carousel Never Stops Turning

When Isla Mercer returns to Crescent Bay for her grandmother's funeral, she inherits more than just memories-she inherits a crumbling carousel and a second chance with the man who broke her heart.

Isla Mercer built her entire life around staying away from Crescent Bay. As a renowned carousel restoration artist in Boston, she's carved out a safe, controlled existence three hundred miles from the coastal town that holds her most painful memories. But when her beloved grandmother dies and leaves her the town's historic carousel-the same carousel where Isla experienced her first kiss, her first heartbreak, and her last goodbye-she has no choice but to return. The carousel is in ruins, the pier is struggling, and Isla is given an ultimatum: restore the carousel to its former glory within six months, or the town will sell it to developers who plan to tear it down and build luxury condos.

What Isla doesn't expect is to find Jace Hartley still in Crescent Bay, working as the pier's maintenance manager. Twelve years ago, Jace was the golden boy with dreams of leaving town. Now he's weathered by life, raising his ten-year-old nephew alone after his sister's death. He's angry, guarded, and the last person who wants Isla back in town stirring up the past. But the carousel needs both of them, and neither can walk away without losing something precious.

As they work side by side, uncovering the carousel's hidden beauty, they can't help but uncover their own buried feelings.

SAMPLE - CHAPTER ONE

The salt air hit Isla Mercer's face like a familiar slap, sharp and unforgiving. She stood at the edge of the wooden pier, her grandmother's keys clutched in her palm hard enough to leave marks. Behind her, the town of Crescent Bay stretched along the coast in that same sleepy arrangement she remembered-weathered storefronts, boats bobbing in the harbor, gulls crying overhead like they were mourning too.

She'd sworn she wouldn't come back. Three days ago, she'd been in her Boston studio, carefully applying gold leaf to a restored carousel horse from 1912. Her phone had buzzed with Nina's number, and somehow Isla had known before she even answered. Gran was gone. Heart failure, quick and final, the way the old woman would have wanted it.

Now the lawyer's envelope crinkled in her coat pocket, and the keys to the carousel felt like an anchor. Isla walked down the pier, her boots echoing on the old boards. At the very end, the carousel pavilion rose up before her-Victorian-era ironwork holding up a domed roof that had once been painted bright blue and gold. Now the paint peeled in long strips, and rust bloomed on the metal supports like strange flowers. But even in its decay, the structure held a kind of stubborn dignity.

Isla unlocked the gate and stepped inside. The carousel sat silent in the gathering dusk, its horses frozen mid-gallop. Forty-eight animals in total, each one hand-carved from basswood by craftsmen who'd been dead for more than a century. She'd spent every summer of her childhood on this carousel. She'd learned the name of every horse, memorized their positions, pretended they would come to life and carry her away to somewhere magical.

Some carousels never stop turning. And some love stories refuse to stay in the past.