★★★★★ “This is a wonderful page turner.” – Goodreads review

★★★★★ “Shawn and Becks second chance story is not without some major events which keeps the reader entranced by the story.” – Goodreads review

★★★★★ “I loved this story with its second chance at love for these two.” – Goodreads review

★★★★ “The characters Shawn and Rebecca are going to deliver a very entertaining book for you to enjoy reading.” – Goodreads review

When old flames reignite, sparks fly.

Volunteer firefighter Shawn Miller thought he had his life figured out in small-town Elken Grove. His print shop pays the bills while his real passion—fighting fires—keeps him connected to the community he loves.

Then his new Captain walks through the station doors: Rebecca “Becks” Schwartz, the woman who walked out of his life nine years ago. Now she’s his superior officer, and someone in the department is determined to drive her away—or worse.

As danger closes in, Shawn must balance protecting Becks with respecting her authority. But when sparks fly hotter than ever between them, he realizes some flames aren’t meant to be extinguished—they’re meant to be stoked.

Get REKINDLED FLAME today and feel the heat of this slow-burn second chance romance!

♥ firefighter romance ♥ second chance ♥ small town ♥ protective hero ♥ workplace romance ♥ she’s his boss ♥ contemporary ♥ first responder ♥

Excerpt 1
“There’s something else you should know before you leave.”

Something in the chief’s tone made Shawn sink back into his chair. “Sir?”

“The new captain is a woman,” Washington said carefully, clearly bracing for resistance. “Rebecca Schwartz from the Charlotte Fire Department. Goes by Becks, according to her application. She’ll be arriving Thursday next week for an informal meet-and-greet at Mr. Jones & Husband, then coming by on Saturday to meet the volunteers during training before officially starting on Monday.” 

Shawn nodded, unfazed by the gender revelation. “A female captain? That’s fine by—“

But the words died in his throat as the full name registered. The folder slipped from his suddenly numb fingers, papers spilling across the floor. Rebecca Schwartz. The name echoed in his head like the aftershock of an explosion.

“Rebecca Schwartz?” he repeated, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

Washington’s eyebrows rose slightly at Shawn’s reaction. “You know her?”

Know her? Shawn almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. He’d known her as Becca back then—sweet-faced but determined Becca with her infectious laugh and fierce ambition. He’d known the curve of her smile and the scent of her skin. Known her dreams and fears. Known the sound of her voice first thing in the morning and the last thing at night.

Until he hadn’t.

“We trained together,” he said finally, the understatement of the decade. “At the North Carolina Fire Academy. When I knew her, she went by Becca, not Becks.”

Washington frowned, clearly surprised by this information. “I didn’t connect the dots when reviewing your files.” He leaned forward, suddenly concerned. “Is this going to be a problem?”

Shawn bent to gather the scattered papers, grateful for the chance to hide his expression. Memories he’d buried years ago resurfaced in vivid detail—Becca’s fierce determination during training exercises, her infectious laugh during rare moments of downtime, the devastating fury in her eyes the last time they’d spoken.

“I never want to see your face again, Miller. Keep six feet away from me for the rest of our lives.”

He straightened, clutching the reassembled folder, his knuckles white against the manila paper. “No, sir. No problem at all.”

Excerpt 2
The door to the bar swung open, bringing with it a gust of evening air still carrying the day’s heat. Chief Washington turned in his seat, a smile spreading across his face.

“Ah, here they come,” he said, nodding toward the entrance. “Dr. Hayes, Sheriff Carter, and Lieutenant Miller. The rest of our welcome committee.”

As the group entered, her entire body went rigid. Because despite knowing a “Miller” worked here, nothing could have prepared her for seeing this Miller in person after all these years.

Shawn Miller stood in the doorway alongside two other men, his familiar profile silhouetted against the darkening sky outside. Nine years hadn’t changed him much—perhaps a few more creases around his eyes, his shoulders slightly broader than she remembered. His dark hair was cut shorter now, but he still had that same confident stance, the same easy way of moving through a room. Unlike the uniformed sheriff beside him, Shawn wore dark jeans and a navy button-down shirt with a small embroidered logo on the breast pocket.

For a wild moment, she considered making an excuse and leaving. The background check she’d run had only shown last names and initials, and she didn’t even register the name. S. Miller was a common name, after all. But the universe had a sick sense of humor.

She’d spent the last nine years meticulously building her career, brick by professional brick. No distractions. No workplace romances. No men thinking they knew better than her what she needed. After Charlotte, she’d made it her personal policy: the job came first, always. And here was the man who’d taught her that lesson, about to become her subordinate.

Excerpt 3
The whisper of wrongness crystallized into certainty when he spotted it: the tampering was subtle but unmistakable to someone who’d maintained this equipment for years. The safety seal on the regulator had been broken and incompletely reattached, and the connection threads showed fresh tool marks—signs of recent disassembly by someone other than their certified technician. Even more concerning was what he found when he inspected further: the O-ring that created an airtight seal had been partially shaved down on one side, creating a slow leak that would accelerate under pressure.

A cold weight settled in Shawn’s stomach. This wasn’t an accident or normal wear. Someone had deliberately damaged the equipment—Becks’ equipment specifically—in a way that would pass cursory inspection but fail catastrophically during use.

For a moment, his fingers hovered over his radio. He should alert Becks immediately—tell her what he’d found. 

But the station was a flurry of activity now, everyone preparing to respond to a potential structure fire. Lives could be at stake. There wasn’t time for the investigation this would require—not with flames potentially spreading through the Thatcher house.

His pulse quickening, Shawn glanced at the wall where their spare units hung. Making a split-second decision, he quickly tagged the compromised tank and set it aside, grabbing a spare air cylinder from the rack. He then carefully checked that the regulator and face mask in Becks’ personal gear were undamaged before connecting the replacement cylinder.

As the crew moved toward the engines, Shawn pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Chief Washington: “Possible tampering with B’s air cylinder. Tagged unit and secured in equipment room. Replaced with spare number three. Will brief after call.”

He slipped his phone back into his pocket as he pulled on his turnout gear. He’d tell Becks after the call. For now, they had a job to do.

Excerpt 4
Later, she couldn’t say who moved first. Only that somehow the space between them vanished, and his lips were on hers, or hers on his—a kiss born of shared danger, old memories, and new respect. His hands found her waist, steadying her as she leaned into him, allowing herself this one moment of abandon.

It was both familiar and entirely new. The Shawn she’d kissed nine years ago had been a young man, passionate but untested. This Shawn kissed her with a quiet assurance, a depth of emotion that made her knees weaken.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, reality came crashing back. She was his captain. Someone was targeting her. And their past remained largely unresolved.

“I shouldn’t have—” he started.

“We can’t—” she said simultaneously.

They stared at each other, mutual regret and longing creating an almost unbearable tension.

“This complicates things,” she whispered.

“It was already complicated,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in that familiar gesture she remembered from years ago.

Becks stepped back, creating necessary distance. “Someone sabotaged my turnouts, Shawn. That tear in my jacket—if we’d been called to a fire instead of an accident…”

“I know.” His expression darkened. “We’ll figure out who’s behind this.”

“And this—” she gestured between them, “—whatever this is, it has to wait.”

He nodded, though the reluctance was clear in his eyes. “I’ll follow you home, make sure you get there safely. After that… professional distance.”

“Professional distance,” she echoed, though the lingering taste of him made a mockery of the words.

As she drove home with Shawn’s truck visible in her rearview mirror, Becks touched her lips, still sensitive from his kiss. Whatever was developing between them would have to be shelved until the threat was neutralized and they’d properly addressed their complicated past.

She’d broken her cardinal rule tonight. The one she’d established after Charlotte: never let personal feelings cloud professional judgment. Never give anyone ammunition to suggest you got where you are through anything but merit. And never, ever, let a man make you feel like you need saving. Yet here she was, lips still tingling from kissing her volunteer firefighter, grateful for his protective presence behind her. Everything she’d sworn she’d never do again.