Five spicy lesbian romances. Guarded women, inconvenient attraction and the courage to let someone close. The Healing Hearts bundle brings together slow burn tension, second chances and a found family you’ll want to stay with, with a happy ending for every couple.

- Slow burn lesbian romance
- Ice queen romance
- Second chance romance
- Age gap romance
- Grumpy sunshine
- Opposites attract
- Workplace romance
- Forced proximity
- Medical romance
- Late-bloomer romance
- Guarded hearts and emotional healing
- Found family
- Animals and animal rescue
- Mountain adventure and search and rescue
- Guaranteed happily ever afters

The thing about dogs is that they are always pleased to see
you, and, with a wag of a tail and a slobbery kiss, they can
ground you even after the hardest days. I had a girlfriend
with very similar attributes a while back, although she was
less loyal. It turned out she’d let anyone tickle her behind the
ears.
I think I’d like to come back as a dog, not as a stray, or
even a pampered pooch being paraded around in a purse, but
just as a regular family dog: playing with the kids, protecting
them from intruders and stuff. I could be the modern day
Lassie, saving everyone so they could live happily ever after.
We’d go on hikes together, or swim in the lake.
“I think I’m going to puke!”
Startled, I turn to the dark-haired woman next to me,
wondering what’s so wrong with wanting to be a dog in my
next life. Realizing she isn’t telepathic, but rather about to
relieve her stomach of all its contents, I grab the flattened
white paper from the seat pocket in front of me and, with
one quick flick of my wrist, snap it open. Being a quick-draw
barf bag champion is a lifesaver in my job.
One giant heave, and the passenger next to me has what
looks to be carrots shooting out her mouth and distressingly
(for me at least) down her nose. Why do carrots never digest?
Even if you’ve not eaten carrots for a week, they’re always in
the mix.
“Are you okay?” I ask apprehensively. She nods then
wipes the back of her hand across her mouth, stretching a
thick, gloopy line of snot and saliva. I try not to grimace,
unsuccessfully, but I doubt she notices as the next eruption
seems to start from her toes, gathering speed as it rises. Seri‐
ously, of all the seats someone could have allocated me, they
sat me here? My sigh is silent as I rub the small of her back
and pull her hair out of the corner of the bag. Now I need a
tissue. We both need a tissue, or a pack of them.
“The worst might be over,” I suggest, watching her pluck
a piece of carrot from her left nostril. Thankfully, it stuck to
her finger. “Hang on, I think I have—” With my clean hand, I
pull my rucksack from below the seat in front of me,
clasping it between my knees. Rummaging in the front
pocket, I find my packet of tissues.
“You might want this.” I offer her the tissue, which she
takes with a shy smile. Is it weird to find someone cute even
when they have vomit drool plastered over their face? I
distract myself from contemplating the answer by using
another tissue from the pack to wipe my fingers. It’s not
ideal but it’ll do until I can get to the washroom.
An audible ping grabs my attention, and I look up. They
have switched the seatbelt sign off and as if by magic, my
colleague Tamara appears, shimmying up the aisle in a tight
dark dress, no doubt attracted by the not so subtle retching
which has been keeping everyone entertained for the last ten
minutes.
“Is she okay?” Tamara mouths the words while looking at
me, and I glance at the woman next to me, who is still wiping
thick mucus from her face. I nod, although I imagine my
expression doesn’t follow through with the positive vibe.
“Would you like some water?” Tamara asks, leaning
across and tapping the woman’s shoulder. The woman
jumps, and so does Tamara, but then she nods.
“I’ll get you a glass. You’re lucky to be sitting next to
Kristi. Has she told you she’s cabin crew? She’s usually up
front helping me look after all the passengers, but she’s got
herself a vacation—and she still can’t keep away.” The
woman next to me smiles, first at Tamara and then at me.
Yup, even covered in snot and regurgitated carrot, she’s cute.
“Kristi will take good care of you. I’ll just get you that
water.” Tamara winks as she turns to make her way down the
aisle, and I find myself distracted by the gentle sway of her
hips.
If I’m lucky, the woman will wear herself down into some
sort of comatose slumber. I’ve never had much of a problem
with sleeping on planes. I know for some people, the idea of
cramming your body into a little seat with minimum
legroom while figuring out a place to rest your head that isn’t
at odds with the rest of your body isn’t easy. But you have to
take what you can get when you’re cabin crew. Being
comfortable in confined spaces is a prerequisite of the job.
Although, nowadays sleeping in the same bed for three
consecutive nights is more of a challenge.
When Tamara returns with the water, the woman takes it,
offering a “Thanks.”
“You must think I’m a fool.” She tucks her long dark hair
behind her ear, and again I get a glimpse of that smile. “I’m
Ali. The world’s worst traveler,” she jokes.
“Kristi. It’s nice to see you breathing again.” My words
cause an adorable blush to rise up her cheeks. I reckon she’s
about mid-thirties, maybe a touch more. Safe to say she’s at
least five years my junior, and sweet.
“I bet you wish you’d got another seat.” Ali shakes her
head, seeming a little mortified.
“Everyone gets scared from time to time. We’ve all got
hang-ups, you know, the stuff that sets us off.” This is my
standard response after someone has clutched my hand so
tightly they’ve drawn blood, or puked over my shoes.
“So, what’s your thing?” Her question catches me off
guard. “What scares you? It’s obviously not flying.”
I hesitate; I know that answer but it’s not something I’m
about to share. I don’t readily share emotions with anyone,
least of all a stranger. Plus, saying “fear of abandonment” is
such a buzzkill. So, I opt for something safe and lame. “I’m
scared of spiders.”
Ali nods, watching me as though she’s assessing how
much candor underlies my claim of arachnophobia. There is
a modicum of truth, I mean I don’t like the huge hairy ones
that wear Doc Martens, and run like Usain Bolt mainlining
Red Bull, but the smaller ones are okay. I even like the tiny
ones. My grandma called them money spiders. Raising her
arm in the air, she’d let them dangle, spinning and climbing,
before allowing them to run over her palm.
“They’re the lucky spiders, Kristi,” she’d tell me. “Let a
money spider run over your hands and he’ll bring you good
fortune.” How she knew it was a him is beyond me, but then
is gender relevant in a spider’s world? Maybe I should ask a
black widow? But that was one of the many superstitions
she’d inherited from her mom, a formidable Irish woman as
wide as she was tall, with hair the color of fire. I never met
my great-grandmother, Molly, but she sounded like a charac‐
ter, albeit a very scary one.
Ali yawns next to me.
“Get some rest.” I pat her hand, watching her heavy
eyelids blink as she fights to stay awake, but it’s a fight she
isn’t going to win as she comes down from the adrenalin
rush. Within minutes she’s already drifting off.

Five couples. Five chances to let someone in. Plenty of reasons to keep the door firmly shut.

A flight attendant meets the surgeon who makes her question her rules. An ambitious banker inherits seven cats and finds herself needing a woman she never planned for. Two ice queens discover that working together is dangerous for their composure. A rescue trainer falls for a climber who risks everything except her heart. And a woman who has spent four years avoiding her past finds it sitting at the next desk.

The **Healing Hearts series by Ruby Scott** brings together five spicy lesbian romances filled with slow burn tension, second chances, found family and women who are much better at looking after everyone else than admitting what they need.

There’s humour, heartache and desire that refuses to behave. And when these women finally let themselves fall, there’s a happily ever after waiting for every couple.