About

Come in out of the rain.

I write love stories with weather in them.

The kind where the sky is doing something the whole time—fog rolling off the water, rain against the window, that gray Pacific Northwest light that makes everyone look a little lonelier than they'd admit. My people are gruff and guarded and bad at saying the soft thing out loud. So they don't say it. They fix your car before you ask. They pour your coffee the way you like it before you've said a word. They show up at your door the second something feels off, and they stand between you and whatever you're running from—and when you tell them you never asked them to, they just look at you like that was never the point.

That's the whole thing, for me. Not the grand speech. The showing up.

I write slow burns because I think the ache is the good part—the wanting, the almost, the moment two stubborn people finally stop fighting it. I write found family because sometimes the town full of nosy, meddling, fiercely loyal people is the happy ending. And I write a guaranteed happily-ever-after into every single book, no exceptions, because you have enough uncertainty in your life and you shouldn't have to carry it into a love story too.

Right now I'm living in the Halvorsen brothers' world—Salt Point, a weather-worn little town on the water where the men fix engines, haul nets, and keep their heads down until the women who need them most come walking back into town. If you've never been, Hard to Fix is the door in.

I'm so glad you're here. Kick your shoes off. Stay a while.

— Eevie

author@eeviedarke.com