Mary Alice Monroe Beach House Series Novels & Stories

“I know, but eventually you will.” I hadn’t been to my beach house in three months. The last time I went, I’d longed for peace and quiet after Gaia’s funeral. I’d come alone without Simona and Daniele because every look at them reminded me of the woman I wanted to forget. Isadora’s eyes widened in awe when we pulled up in front of the splendid white bungalow on the beach. Mia owned the house beside it, but we rarely visited this place at the same time, even if she’d been insisting on a family vacation for a while. Simona had fallen asleep in her seat, but Daniele’s face flashed with recognition. He’d loved this place in the past. I worried even though that had changed.

I gasps at the sight of a man appearing from the balcony, “Jesus—“ My eyes widen at the figure, seeing Damon standing in front of me feels surreal. I was kidnapped and I was molested but somehow I survived. I immediately push my body away from him, increasing the space between us as I grip hard onto the sheets of his California king bed. “Alice . . . it’s okay.” “No, get the fuck away from me. You—you, lying bastard.” “Wait, this is a misunderstanding.” He replies, bringing his hands up as a white flag.

She found this very odd but decided to follow the example of the owner of this little house. “Annie…” The moment the old woman touches her shoulder she nearly shrieks. The sound was muffled when a hand quickly covers her mouth. “Sorry, it’s only me,” Mara said quietly. She removes her hand “Did something happen?” Annie keeps her voice reflectively quiet. “You shouldn’t be standing near the window.” “There are drivers on the beach.” Annie still said in her soft voice, “I know, but don’t let them see you. This would spell danger for us. Come on, follow me.”

(Sabrina’s POV) They drove me to the beach house the morning after the gala without telling me why. Eric’s way. When the world caught fire, Eric did not put it out. He moved you somewhere the fire couldn’t reach and let you sit until the smoke cleared on its own. The house was on the water. White clapboard, blue shutters, a porch that wrapped around three sides with hammocks strung between two posts at the far end. I lay in the hammock and watched the ocean and talked to whoever came close. Felix brought me a second coffee. Charlie asked if I wanted lunch. Adrian hovered near the screen door.

She was twenty-four, had just quit her soul-crushing corporate job in Manhattan, and had decided to spend the entire summer in this rental on the coast of Maine before figuring out what came next in her life. The beach house was perfect, a sprawling property right on the water, private beach access, floor-to-ceiling windows, a deck that wrapped around the entire structure. She'd found it listed on an exclusive rental site: Private beach house, three months minimum rental, owner-occupied caretaker cottage on property. The price was reasonable considering the location and luxury. Lily had signed the lease sight unseen, desperate to escape the city. Now, on her first evening, she was unpacking

She was jumping on the bed like a five year old that was offered three candies. The ride to the beach was long in a way, 'cause tell me why I had closed my eyes for a while and I opened it, yet we were still in the road. Oh, here we are. Jesse led me to the beach house, the one Ian rented. I had thought the house would be some small cottage, but this particular one right on front of me was like a mini mansion. "Thanks, Jesse." "It's fine, ma'am." I pulled off my shirt, putting it inside my tote bag as I entered inside.

It wasn't spectacular or modern; it was simply quiet, the exact example of what he had in mind. It seemed like a place where time appeared to slow down. It spelled peace, serenity, tranquility, and safety. “This looks more like it,” he said to himself. He took up the phone and dialed the agent's number, which was printed beneath the photo of the house. “Hello,” a woman’s voice answered quickly. “Sunstream Beach Properties, how can I help you?” “Yes. I am interested in the beach house at Ocean Hill Bay. The one with the lavender garden.”

Her mom thought for a second, “Very true dear, my daughter right as usual. Just give us a ring if you need anything.” We nodded our heads and headed towards the beach house. Opening the back door I paused to admire the beach house. This whole week I was so gloomy I hadn’t noticed much of my surroundings. It really was quite nice. The floors were white marble tile, white walls and trim. Large windows that spanned floor to ceiling let natural light fill the space. It was such a serene setting how had I not noticed I’ll never know. Bailey elbowed me in the ribs after noticing my staring off into space. “Hey, I know you are worried about heading back. Let’s try and enjoy the evening and forget a

"No way. I already promised you, and besides, he needs to lighten up. Maybe having us around will remind him there's more to life than blueprints and client meetings." Lily reached over and squeezed Emma's hand. "Just... be on your best behavior, okay? Don't do anything to annoy him. He can be pretty intense when he's in work mode." "I'll be a model houseguest," Emma promised, though her pulse quickened. The beach house came into view as they crested the hill, a stunning modern structure of glass and weathered wood that seemed to grow out of the cliff itself, overlooking a private stretch of beach. Emma had been here twice before, years ago, but it still took her breath away.

i bend to pick something that fell down and notice Josh hands on her laps, ouch. “We’ve arrived animals” Miles says. The new beach house was everything Marcus had promised. They were three floors of white stone and glass facing an endless blue horizon. The ocean breeze was everything. Everyone spilled out with the excitement of kids on summer break, but the air between me and her was heavier than the sea breeze. “Wow, this place is insane!” Elle shouted, dragging Luke toward the balcony. Josh whistled. “Guess the big guy’s got taste.” “Guess you’re still talking,” I muttered.