Passion Project by Sandra Kyle

DIY romance set in Savannah

Passion project

Marly’s been doing the best with what life’s dealt her. Losing her husband a decade ago and raising two kids on her own made her self-reliant and unapologetic. When she’s pushed to the limit after losing her job, what’s a girl to do? Audition for a spot on a DIY show, naturally. Jack is a down-on-his-luck television producer trying to catch a break. When an offer comes along to get a fledgling DIY show up and running, he jumps on it. Little does he know that Marly is about to give him a run for his money as Handyman Dan’s sidekick. Return to Savannah and catch up with the characters of “A Building Passion” and get to know some new ones in “Passion Project (DIY Book 2).”

Contains adult sexual content

Genre: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary

Secondary Genre: FICTION / Romance / General

Language: English

Keywords: contemporary adult romance

Word Count: 68000

Sample text:

This is the worst idea I’ve ever had. I never should have let Monica talk me into this.

Marly grimaced at her fluorescent-lit reflection. The unforgiving light in the antiseptic restroom washed over her. The bobblehead Barbies flittering in and out of the stalls didn’t help Marly’s assessment of her appearance.

“Mom?” Jasmine whined from inside a bathroom stall. The sound — an auditory precursor to tantrums toddler-aged Jasmine would pitch in the grocery store’s cereal aisle —  shook Marly out of the shell of self-judgment.

Mom of the year, bringing my eleven-year-old to a meat market. Way to go with the parenting skills. She took a deep breath. Remember why I’m doing this. “What is it, Jaz?”

“Can you come in here?”

The foreign request caused Marly’s eyes to widen. The joint use of a public bathroom stall had been banned from her motherly duties by Jasmine herself when she was only six. All other thoughts were filed away into the back of her head. She hurried to the door and lightly tapped. “Let me in, sweetie.” Marly got a weird gaze from one of the boobs on a stick leaving a nearby stall. The rest of the cattle-call attendees were too engrossed with themselves to pay anything else much mind.

The shiny chrome lock rotated. The door eased inward slowly. Marly slipped through the sliver of an opening Jasmine offered. Once inside, she glanced down to find her daughter seated on the toilet. Jasmine leaned forward, crossed her arms, and shielded her midsection. “Lock it,” she muttered quickly.

Marly obliged and twisted her tall frame to close the stall door. She turned back, about to ask what was wrong. Then she saw it.



Book translation status:

The book is available for translation into any language except those listed below:

Already translated. Translated by Cristina López

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