The Jam Maker's June

She came to Fernwick with forty jars of jam, a name she'd just changed, and no plan to ever need anyone again.

Three years ago, Sylvie Caron drove until she was tired and stopped where the road ran out. Now she has a stall at the Saturday market, a sunroom that smells like strawberries at four in the morning, and a life built exactly the size of one person - which she's been telling herself is the same as being whole.

Then the town gets a letter. A developer wants the market lot for a parking deck, the council votes at the end of the month, and the one place that ever let Sylvie start over is suddenly something she could lose.

To save it, she'll have to work with Theo Marsh - the quiet man who runs the hardware store, who's bought one jar of her fig and cardamom every Saturday for fourteen months and never said a word he didn't have to. Theo doesn't drift. He doesn't go along. When he's standing somewhere, it's because he chose to - and lately he keeps choosing to stand a little closer to her.

He builds the tables. She maps the votes. Neither of them says the thing they're both not saying.

But the market has six weeks, the jars on Sylvie's shelf are piling up faster than she can sell them, and you can only cook a feeling down and seal it tight for so long before you have to find a mouth for it instead of a jar.

The Jam Maker's June is a tender, slow-burn, closed-door romance about second chances at a whole life, the people who love you by mail and by memory, and a small town that decides it's worth fighting for. Perfect for readers who love warm small-town settings, found family, an aching slow burn, and a happily-ever-after you can taste.

Welcome to Fernwick. Pull up a stool. Something's always on the stove.

First in the Fernwick Market series. Each book is a standalone romance with its own happily-ever-after - no cliffhangers, no spice on the page.