In the red heart of Queensland, two teenagers playing matchmaker are about to turn more than one life upside-down.

Widower Sam Costello has no time for love. When he’s not working on his farm, he’s trying to figure out how to connect with his teenage son Levi.

But Levi is about to finish high school, and he has big plans to move to Sydney for university with his best friend Maddie. If only he didn’t feel so guilty about abandoning his dad. Maddie has her own reasons for wanting to go to Sydney and she’s not going to let Levi’s dad ruin her future happiness. Mr Costello needs a girlfriend and, with her talent for matchmaking, Maddie is the girl to make it happen. By the time Mr C figures out what she’s done, surely he’ll be too in love to be angry.

Journalist Sarah Lewis has a good job, a nice boyfriend and a safe life in Sydney. Though sometimes she wonders if life has more to offer than nice and safe. When she starts working on an article about finding love in the outback she finds herself asking whether journalists should become this invested in their research. But there’s just something about Lonely in Longreach. Could it be that the man behind the dating profile is the key to the passion she has been looking for?

Sleepless in Seattle meets rural Australia in this fresh romantic comedy about optimism, online dating and love at first sight.

CHAPTER ONE

The dry grass crackled like cellophane underfoot as Sam Costello and his son Levi made their way across what passed for the lawn of the Longreach Remembrance Garden. The lively yellow daisies Sam carried seemed to wilt during the short walk from the car. Michelle had loved daisies. She always said their sunny vibe made her feel as if everything would work out okay, even when it became clear it wouldn’t.
The trees near the entrance to the cemetery huddled together as if for comfort, drooping in the relentless sun, their leaves limp and lifeless in the still air. The sky arced overhead in a vault of deepest blue without a cloud in sight giving Sam the impression he lived in one of those snow globes, one where someone had swapped out the snow for dust.
Brown, rocky patches made up most of the grounds, testimony to the lack of rain. Drought made water a precious commodity, not to be wasted on keeping the cemetery green. It wasn’t as if the people buried there noticed one way or another.
They picked their way across the barren soil, skirting remembrance plaques and gravestones of the people who had braved this hard, wild country before them. Had their lives been as challenging as his? Had they buried wives, watched their stock die and tried to raise grumpy teenage boys alone? Had they been as clueless as him?
Sam took off his akubra hat and wiped away the bead of sweat heading south on his forehead with the back of his hand. His shirt stuck to his back and he no longer noticed the flies pestering him, automatically waving them away with one hand. The relentless heat made him weary, adding weight to every one of his thirty-eight years.
Levi, at fifteen, seemed impervious to the weather. He wore a t-shirt, frayed at the seams, and a baseball cap that had seen better days. Sam had wanted him to change into something more suitable for the visit to his mother’s grave. The fight had proved more than it’s worth and Sam had given in, grateful Levi had agreed to come at all.
Levi kicked at what was left of the grass as he slouched across towards the headstone, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his eyes down. His reluctance oozed out of the pores of his skin, creating the miasma of defiance he’d carried with him all morning.
Sam knew his days having Levi by his side were numbered. Hanging out with your old man got downright embarrassing at about this age, if he remembered right. That’s how Sam had felt about his father. No reason to think it would be any different with his son.
Sam sighed and turned down the row where Michelle was buried.
The last seven years had taken their toll, not only on Sam but on the tombstones around them. Weeds pushed their way up through graves once well-tended, loved ones having moved on or simply stopped coming. The relentless sun, wind and rain had worn away the inscriptions on the older stones, the ones dating back to the nineteenth century when people had first come to Longreach to farm.
Michelle’s grave at least looked like someone cared. A modest slab of marble with the inscription outlined in gold, the best he could afford at the time. He made sure to keep it neat, bringing fresh flowers as often as he could. Even so, he came less and less. Time had a way of warping the best of intentions.
He didn’t know if Levi came at all—he was afraid to ask. He bent down and removed the dead flowers, the remains of his last offerings. He stepped back, holding the dead in one hand and the living in the other. They stood side by side in silence, father and son, both staring at Michelle’s head-stone, as if anything had changed since their last visit. A breeze moved across the lawn setting the leaves of a eucalypt tree rustling like a whisper on the wind.

Michelle Marie Costello.
Beloved wife and mother. Sorely missed and never forgotten.
Survived by her husband Sam and son Levi.
1981–2012

Survived was a strong word.
No matter how many times Sam read the inscription it still had the power to deliver a jolt to his heart. An unnecessary reminder that she was gone. He managed to get through some days without thinking of her at all until the evening when it would be just him and Levi. Then he noticed her absence, as he watched their son, head bent over his home-work at the kitchen table. In the way Levi had of flicking his fringe back off his face with a toss of his head, a mirror image of Michelle. Or in those moments when he realised Levi had outgrown his current crop of clothes—things his mother would have noticed long before a trip to the shops became a necessity.
Sam passed the fresh flowers he carried to Levi, who took them without a word. What he would give to know what went on in that boy’s head. Levi stepped forward, all gangly arms and legs like a newborn colt, and placed the flowers on his mother’s grave without ceremony.
He took off his hat and swept his long, sandy-coloured fringe back with one hand. Sam couldn’t be sure if the gesture was one of respect or a simple response to the heat. The boy needed a haircut. Why hadn’t he noticed that before now? He made a mental note to take him to the barber in town.
The afternoon filled with the seasonal song of cicadas giving it everything they had like tiny rock gods performing a final encore.
‘You know, Dad … I don’t think I remember Mum like I used to.’ Levi spoke matter-of-factly, his eyes on his mother’s gravestone, while daggers plunged into Sam’s heart at every word.
Sam swallowed hard, pushing down the lump in his throat so he could speak.
‘How do you mean?’ He already knew the answer. He had the same problem, although he preferred not to look at it head on.
Beside him Levi shrugged. ‘Dunno. When I think of her it’s kind of blurry, like I can’t see her face properly or something.’
Sam nodded slowly, weighing up his response. There’d been a time when he thought Michelle’s face was indelible, carved into his memory so he’d never forget even the tiniest detail. Seven years on, he relied on the photo beside his bed to keep her in focus.
He sighed. ‘Time does that to memories.’
He sounded lame and cliched. What else could he say? He wanted to beg Levi to try harder, to not let his mother fade away, to keep her vibrant and alive forever. Sam knew he asked the impossible, especially as Levi had only been eight when she passed.
‘Yeah, that’s what Maddie says too.’ Levi kicked at a stone and sent it scuttling off, scaring a small lizard sunning itself two headstones down the row.
Sam smiled. Maddie had become the font of all knowledge lately. The kids had been best friends since kindergarten, growing even closer when Michelle died as Levi sought comfort and stability. He wondered if Levi’s interest in the dirt-bike riding tom-boy would shift as adolescence took hold.
‘In this case, she’s right,’ he said.
‘She also said it’s about time you started dating again.’ Seemingly emboldened by Sam’s agreement, Levi turned the conversation in a direction he hadn’t seen coming.
‘Oh, she did now?’ Where the hell was this going?
‘Yeah, like it’s been way too long and you’re not getting any younger.’
‘Gee, thanks.’ Nothing like a teenage kid to put it all in perspective for you.
‘Well, you’re not that old but if you wait much longer you might find it hard. Competition and all. We do live in a small town a million miles from nowhere. I mean, you don’t even have a dog anymore.’
‘I’ll take that on board.’ Sam brushed a fly away and crossed his arms, hoping to signal an end to the conversation. His son made him sound a bit pathetic, especially with the jab about the dog. Kevin, their much-loved black and tan kelpie, had passed on two years ago and Sam hadn’t found the heart to replace him. There was only so much loss a man could take.
‘I won’t be around forever, you know,’ Levi persisted as he placed his hat back on his head. ‘I hate the idea of you rattling around in that house on your own.’
‘You thinking of moving out?’ Sam turned to face Levi, eyebrows raised.
‘Not right away. When I finish school me and Maddie will go to university and then what will you do?’ Levi squinted up at the tree above them as if looking for something in its branches. The little boy he’d been shimmered for a moment in the bright sunshine before fading as if he’d never been.
Flashes of Levi’s first day of school, Levi catching his first fish in the Thomson River, learning to ride his first dirt bike, a thing so dinky it looked like it could fit on Sam’s key chain, ran through Sam’s mind. All gone in a flash, to be replaced by this man-child that, on some days, Sam didn’t recognise.
‘So, a bit of forward planning is what you’re advocating here?’
‘Yes,’ said Levi, the relief in his voice evident. Sam repressed the urge to chuckle, reminded of his frustration with his own father at that age. Finally, the old man got it.
This kid could carve up his heart one minute and have him in hysterics the next.
‘All I’m saying is you should consider it.’
‘The moving out bit?’ Sam wanted to make him work for it.
‘No,’ Levi sighed, ‘the dating thing.’
‘Okay,’ Sam conceded. ‘I promise to consider the dating thing on one condition.’
‘What’s that?’ Levi returned his gaze to Sam, his wariness showing in the way he frowned, drawing his brows together until a furrow formed between them. In that moment, he reminded Sam so much of Michelle, he couldn’t draw breath.
‘That you clean your room and do a load of laundry when we get home.’
‘Dad,’ Levi groaned, ‘you’re not taking this seriously. Maddie says single men don’t live as long as married men. You’re shortening your life, even as we speak.’
Sam reached out and knocked Levi’s cap off his head in a playful move, designed to break the tension. He knew what was really going on here.
‘Far be it for me to doubt the wisdom of Miss Maddison McRae. I will think about it, okay? Either way, I’m sure I will live a long life, with or without a girlfriend.’
‘Okay,’ muttered Levi, bending to pick up his hat.
‘Come on.’ Sam put his arm around his son’s shoulders. ‘Let’s go home and get something to eat.’
‘Can I go over to Maddie’s? I said I’d go dirt-bike riding with her this afternoon.’
Once upon a time they’d have visited Michelle and then eaten a special lunch together before spending the afternoon on the couch watching movies. Levi had outgrown the tradition it would seem. Sam’s heart weighed heavy in his chest. If only he could keep Levi suspended in time. Not forever, only for a little bit longer.
‘Okay,’ he said, giving in. ‘Only after you’ve tidied your room and put your laundry on to wash.’
‘Come on, Dad. That’s eating into valuable riding time. Can’t I do it later?’
‘What did I just say?’
They continued to argue all the way to the car, their banter tried and tested. Sam had the sense he’d not only left Michelle behind today, but that a part of Levi’s childhood had separated and would remain with her, gone forever.

***

Maddie lay on her bed with her legs stretched up the wall, pondering her poster of Liam Newson, the handsomest actor on her favourite soap, Getaway Bay, as she waited for Levi to arrive.
She twirled a long strand of hair and chewed absently on the end as she stared into the greenest eyes God ever gave a man. The way his t-shirt clung to his muscular shoulders—and those arms—gave her fluttery feelings she didn’t have a name for. Like Liam generated his own magnetic field and she’d become caught up in it, powerless against his charm.
The relentless dry heat caused the poster to curl up at the edges, robbing the putty adhesive of its grip. The paper had crinkled and the print worn where Maddie had smoothed it flat time and again. She needed another poster, one to sit on the opposite wall so she could see Liam from anywhere in the room.
She’d read a passage in one of her mother’s motivational books that you should meditate on your goal for a part of every day. Maddie set the timer on her phone for fifteen minutes and spent them staring as hard as she could at Liam’s image, summoning him into her life.
The fact he’d grown up in Longreach only added to her certainty. He’d graduated high school the year before Mad-die had started, so they’d never got to meet. If they had, things would be easier. He’d know, as well as she did, that they were made for each other.
They were destined to be together, she’d known that from the very first time she’d seen him walk on in an episode of Getaway Bay. Her heart had literally stopped in her chest and she’d died, right there on the couch, although no one in her family was savvy enough to notice the gargantuan event taking place right before their eyes. What could you expect, right? Her parents, too old for love, were only concerned with boring town gossip. As if anything ever went on in this place.
No way was she growing up to be them. As soon as she could, she’d apply for university in Sydney. Didn’t matter what she studied. Maybe marketing or public relations. Whatever. The point was to get as close to Liam as possible. If a boy from Longreach could make his dreams come true, then so could she.
She’d move to Bondi Beach because that’s where he lived. Fate would take care of the details. All she knew was that she had to get to Sydney and let Fate guide her to Liam. He would take one look at her and get struck by lightning too. That’s how Fate worked. She imagined Fate as a cool chick with long red hair, wearing a black leather jacket.
According to her mother’s book, to make her dreams a reality she had to visualise every detail. Of course, Levi would be with her and they could work to afford the rent while they studied. She could get a job making coffee or something. Levi would love Bondi. Neither of them had ever seen the sea and, as they’d done everything together all their lives, it seemed appropriate they’d have this adventure together too.
The easiest way to get to meet Liam might be through his sister, Alexis, who was in her final year at Maddie’s school. The year twelve formal was her in with Alexis, if only Mad-die could swing an invite. Then later, when Maddie moved to Sydney, Alexis could introduce her to Liam. The plan could work. She just had to get herself to Sydney.
Her thoughts wandered to Levi and his dad. Levi agreed in principle to Maddie’s plan for them, happy to apply for university in Sydney when they reached year twelve, though she was pretty sure he didn’t know about her main motivation. There was one giant snag: his reluctance to leave his dad all on his own. He knew he couldn’t stay in Longreach forever yet he got all vague about anything more than what university he might apply to in the future. At that point, he’d change the subject. He might think he was being clever, but Maddie had his number. She knew what was going on.
Poor Mr C had lost the love of his life. She knew how he must feel. Imagine if she finally won Liam’s heart, only to lose him! Mr C did okay but you could see the damage on him. He needed a girlfriend, someone to distract him and help him get over Mrs C. Someone to make it alright for Levi to leave him and start a life of his own.
The timer on her phone buzzed.
Maddie slipped her ear buds on, selecting her favourite playlist on her iPhone. She did her best thinking when listening to music. She needed to think now, find some way of matching Mr C with the right woman. If there’d been anyone in town suitable he would have found them by now. Fate would have brought them together. Maddie would have to act as Fate’s handmaiden, a role she relished.
Wasn’t it she who brought together Mr Ozzie, the PE teacher, and Miss Carmichael, the art teacher, last year? A skilful pairing if she did say so herself. It had been super obvious they’d be a good match. She’d dropped a few hints, engineered a few accidental meetings. Hadn’t been that hard. And look where they were today—happy and in love. All down to her.
Of course, her triumphs had to include the matches she’d made among her friends. Six successful hook-ups so far. She had a talent for this stuff. Mr C might prove to be her big-gest challenge, only because he wasn’t interested in anyone. No sparks flying anywhere. Which meant she’d have to be clever and think outside of the box. Without Levi there was no way she could afford to live in Bondi, so her whole future happiness with the man of her dreams depended on Levi coming with her.
Nothing could get in the way of her becoming Mrs Liam Newson. Nothing.
She closed her eyes and let the music carry her away.

***

The afternoon sun slanted in through the kitchen window, highlighting the dust motes’ joyful and defiant dance. Why were dust motes always so damned happy? He needed a cleaner. If he could afford a cleaner. Which he couldn’t.
Sam sat at the Tasmanian oak table, scarred with generations of use, and poured two fingers of malt whisky into a glass. He took a moment to hold the glass to the light, enjoy-ing the way the sunlight turned the liquid bright amber, taking pleasure in the small things that remained the same even when all else changed.
As soon as they’d got home Levi had grabbed what passed for a sandwich—two bits of bread with some ham wedged between—and disappeared to change. Probably keen to get away from the tragic air of depression Sam emanated annually, beginning the first week of September and lasting far longer than it should. Couldn’t blame the boy. If Sam could get away from himself, he would too.
He stretched out his long legs and settled into the chair. The kitchen carried the debris of breakfast, crumbs littering the bench, dishes in the sink. He’d get to them eventually. Some of those dust motes, done with their dancing, had settled on surfaces. The wide hardwood floorboards, polished a honey colour from generations of Costello feet sliding across them, needed a sweep and a mop. He’d get to that too. Levi could help when he got home. For now, Sam needed to stop and just be.
‘Here’s to you.’ He toasted the picture of Michelle hanging on the wall next to Levi’s baby photo and one of their wedding day with the two of them looking like they’d burst with happiness at the future before them.
You couldn’t tell by looking at the photo, but Michelle’s dress had been dip-dyed pink to imitate Gwen Stefani’s famous Dior gown. They’d got married the same year and Michelle had been a huge fan of No Doubt. He’d kept her CD collection. They’d been packed away somewhere he couldn’t see them every day and be reminded of the way she used to dance around the lounge room to Hey Baby when she was pregnant with Levi.
Her mother had kept the wedding dress.
Sam threw back the shot, wincing as it burned all the way down.
Silence fell thick and heavy, the whisky taking him down deep to rest within it.
Levi had left for Maddie’s an hour ago, his dirt bike sounding like a swarm of angry mosquitoes as he buzzed away in a cloud of palpable relief, heading for the neighbouring farm. He wouldn’t be back until dusk.
A long, empty afternoon stretched out before him.
‘What do you think?’ he asked Michelle. ‘Is Miss Maddie right? Should I start dating again?’
She smiled at him as she always did, her fair hair falling across the sweep of her cheek, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose, caught in a moment of contentment he liked to think he’d contributed to. Him and Levi.
He tried to recall the sound of her voice, the way she laughed. The memories became more and more elusive with every passing year no matter how much he tried to hang on. On the other hand, the sense of emptiness, the space she’d left, only grew more defined with time. The whole thing seemed entirely unfair.
In the absence of an answer, the silence thickened and spread until it went for miles in every direction of his life. He was alone. Levi had a point. When he left to begin his own life, Sam would be living with memories and ghosts.
The prospect made him shiver and he reached for the bottle to pour another drink.
He stopped. Another drink on an empty stomach could only be a bad idea. He needed a feed and some company instead of sitting around feeling sorry for himself.
Sam pushed the chair back. He left the bottle and glass on the table. Might need them later. Plucking his hat from the hook by the back door, he grabbed his car keys. He let the door slam behind him as he went, trapping the ghosts inside.

***

Saturday afternoon at the Longreach Royal Arms had a reassuring timeless rhythm.
Sam pushed open the heavy dark wooden doors to be met with a blast of air-conditioning and the sound of male laughter, accompanied by the clink of billiard balls. The lin-gering smell of roast lamb and stale beer, the old pub’s signature scent, enveloped him like a hug.
He moved into the bar with the confidence of someone who knew they’d be welcomed. And he was.
‘Look who the cat dragged in,’ bellowed a bearded, rotund man known as Big Mike.
‘Nearly forgotten what you look like it’s been so long since we saw you,’ said a smaller man as he pocketed the eight ball with a flourish. Craig had been skinny since high school. No matter how much he ate he always looked slightly starved. He embraced Sam, slapping him heartily on the back. What he lacked in size, he made up for with power. Sam staggered under the force of his welcome.
‘Good to see you too,’ he said. ‘Am I too late for a feed?’ he asked Sharon, landlady extraordinaire, and keeper of the town’s gossip.
‘Scraping in by the skin of your teeth, you are,’ she replied as she wiped the bar down with a damp rag. ‘I’m sure I can find something for you if you’d like a couple of slices of lamb and some veg.’
‘As long as you have mint sauce, I’m good to go.’ Already he felt more cheerful, as if someone had thrown a switch and a light had gone on inside the darkest part of him.
‘What have you been doing with yourself?’ Big Mike hoisted himself up on a stool by the bar, his billiard game momentarily forgotten.
‘Bit of this and that. Working around the farm, you know the sort of thing.’ Sam shrugged. His uncomplicated life, full of farm tasks and Levi-related activities, left no time for interesting hobbies or anything resembling a social life.
‘Yeah, me too.’ Craig joined them, hitching up his jeans, having no hips at all to catch their downward slide. ‘Saturday arvos here at the pub is what passes for fun these days.’
‘You mean it’s the only time your wife will let you out on your own.’ Big Mike laughed. ‘And only because you’re in my tender care.’
‘I’m not sure that’s how she puts it,’ said Craig. ‘Another beer, Sharon, when you have a moment. Can I get you any-thing?’ he asked Sam.
‘Whatever you’re having will be fine,’ Sam said. The creeping loneliness began to recede as if he’d taken medicine for it. He began to wonder if he’d imagined its intensity.
‘How’s Levi?’ asked Big Mike.
‘Good for a fifteen-year-old who thinks he knows every-thing.’ Sam occupied the last stool, resting his elbows on the counter. Sharon had renovated the place in recent times and he took the panels of corrugated iron around the bar and on the wall as her nod to modernity. Outback style.
She deposited a plate piled high with roast lamb and oven baked vegetables, accompanied by an ice-cold beer to wash it down.
‘Thank you,’ he said as he speared a crispy potato, his mouth watering in anticipation. His potatoes never turned out this way.
Big Mike nodded in sympathy. ‘Try living with a houseful of teenage girls. Not only do they know everything, they know everything you do is wrong. Hence me being here. Get some peace and quiet. Top up my testosterone levels.’
‘How’s Wendy?’ Sam asked after Big Mike’s wife. They’d all gone to high school together and Big Mike had never stood a chance.
‘You know Wendy. Would have made an excellent army general.’
‘And Veronica?’ Craig’s wife had been a good friend to Michelle.
‘Taking to quilting like it’s crack. Driving me nuts. Every surface in the house has a piece of half-finished quilting draped over it.’ Craig took a swig of his beer and sighed with satisfaction. ‘Can’t complain though. Better than the scrapbooking phase. Talk about a challenging time.’
‘Remember that phase. Nightmare,’ said Big Mike.
The three men sat and nodded together, remembering Veronica and her scrapbooking mania—glue, glitter and little stickers had infiltrated every part of the house and stuck to visitors in very odd places. All the chairs in the place had contained a work in progress and woe betide anyone who sat on one by accident. It had been a trying time.
Sam ate his meal meditatively while he listened to the boys talk. He’d known them all his life. They’d been through everything together—school, first loves, heartbreak, losing parents, birth of children and, of course, Michelle’s illness and death.
‘Veronica said the other day we ought to get you over for dinner,’ said Craig.
‘Sounds good,’ said Sam. Veronica married the right man. She held a legendary status in the community for the quality of her cooking. A lesser man would have ballooned in size, but not Craig. As nothing stuck to his ribs, he could enjoy his wife’s delectable food to both their hearts’ content.
‘In the interests of full disclosure, I feel compelled to let you know she’s wanting to set you up with her cousin.’ Craig lowered his voice and looked around the bar as if someone might overhear and report his indiscretion.
‘Really? What’s she like?’ asked Big Mike with enthusiasm. Sam and Craig turned to look at him. ‘I’m only curious,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m a happily married man.’
‘Funny you should mention dating,’ said Sam. He finished the last bit of his lunch and stacked his knife and fork on the plate, his stomach pleasantly full. ‘Levi reckons I ought to get out there and find someone. Says I’ve been single long enough. Or at least Maddie says that.’
‘Well, I hate to publicly agree with a teenage girl, but she’s right,’ said Big Mike. ‘Michelle was one of a kind, we all know that, but it’s time to get back in the saddle. You should be capitalising on that show. What’s it called?’ Big Mike snapped his fingers as if to capture the name from out of thin air. ‘That’s it: Farmer Goes a Courting. You’re a farmer, time to get courting.’
‘Don’t tell me you watch reality television?’ Sam snorted into his beer. ‘You’ve got two chances of getting me on that show, Buckley’s and none.’
‘You can’t replace Michelle,’ said Craig, placing his hand on Sam’s shoulder. ‘We all loved her too and she wouldn’t have wanted to see you this way.’
What way? He was the same old Sam, maybe a little slower and a little sadder, but the same. How did they see him?
‘All crumpled up and folded in on yourself,’ said Craig as if he’d read his mind. ‘Like one of Veronica’s scrapbook projects.’
‘And let’s not forget you haven’t been laid in seven years,’ said Big Mike, as he scratched his rather majestic beer belly.
‘How do you know? I might have been.’ Sam bristled for reasons he couldn’t identify. Call it a response to small town mentality. Everyone knew your business, or at least thought they did. He might have snuck out of town for a rendezvous somewhere. Not likely, but possible.
‘Come on, mate,’ said Big Mike. ‘We’d have known if you had.’
‘Or at least our wives would have,’ chortled Craig, sending both men off into gales of laughter.
Sam took their ribbing in good humour. They were right. He hadn’t been laid since Michelle died. The very thought of sleeping with another woman made him feel as if he were committing adultery. Even he couldn’t deny that seemed ridiculous after so many years. And Craig had a point Michelle had made him promise he wouldn’t wallow too long after she died. Only she hadn’t said how long was too long.
‘There’s a cute new teacher at the high school. On her country service,’ said Big Mike. ‘Might be a goer.’ He nudged Sam in the ribs and wiggled his eyebrows. ‘I could get one of my girls to check out her availability, like an undercover operation or something.’
‘A love spy,’ said Craig. ‘What your daughters can’t find out I’m sure Veronica will know. She’s up to her armpits with the P&C.’
Sam shook the uncomfortable image of Veronica’s arm-pits out of his head. He picked up his beer and sipped at it thoughtfully. Maybe Levi had a point and it was time he got back out there again. Wouldn’t hurt to consider his options. He hadn’t been on a date for over a decade. A harmless outing with Veronica’s cousin or the new high school teacher might be what he needed.

CHAPTER TWO

‘Do they know I’m vegan?’ Greg struggled to carry his over-night bag as well as the two shopping bags filled with gifts for Sarah’s extended family. It wasn’t a lack of strength that caused him problems. Quite the opposite. He had become so muscle-bound he had to have his clothes custom-made to fit.
‘Don’t worry, I told Mum.’ Sarah held open the gate to the Lewis family home as she juggled her own bags. Greg crab-stepped through, banging the presents on the post as he went. ‘Careful!’ she said.
Greg stopped and looked mournfully at Sarah. ‘I want to make a good impression.’ There was something tragic about this big, beautiful man laden with shopping bags and expectations that tugged at her heart.
She smiled and leaned in to kiss him gently on his lips. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘What’s not to love, right? It will all be fine.’ She spoke with more confidence than she felt.
The gate slammed shut behind them and Sarah turned to survey the house. The elegant Victorian home, with its wide sweeping veranda and manicured gardens, looked the picture of serenity and civilisation. Immaculately clipped hedges lined the perimeter. Her mother always said: every-thing has a place and everything in its place—sheer perfection. If it had been an Airbnb you’d booked for the weekend, you’d have been delighted when you pulled up out the front.
Sarah knew better. Woe betide anyone fooled by the exterior. Chaos lay within. The minute that front door opened they would be sucked into the vortex of madness that was her family.
‘Have you said anything about … you know?’ Greg spoke sotto voce, not realising the walls had ears. When they’d been kids, her and her brother, Hayden, had suspected their mother had the house bugged. She knew everything in a spooky CIA kind of way.
Sarah noticed a curtain twitch at the enormous picture window beside the door. No sneaking up to this establishment.
‘Not a thing. I wanted it to be a surprise.’ She picked up the brass knocker and let it fall against the door. The bang echoed through the house. Her mother hated that knocker which only made Sarah and Hayden want to use it more.
The door flung open immediately, as if there had been someone stationed on the other side, waiting.
‘Sarah!’ Her mother appeared in a crisp floral dress, her hair perfect in an Iron-Lady sort of way. Eleanor Lewis had been a devotee of the hot roller and Elnett Satin hairspray since the 1970s when she’d borrowed her mother’s. She’d never looked back, swapping the loose cheerleader curls of the seventies for the big bouffant of the eighties with perfect ease. And there she’d stayed for the past thirty years. Hayden called it her security hair.
‘Mum!’ Sarah put her bags down to accept a hug. ‘Is everyone here?’
‘Of course they are, dear. No one would miss meeting your man.’ Eleanor stepped back and looked over Sarah’s shoulder. ‘Is this him?’ As if Sarah may have swapped Greg out for someone else on the way over.
‘Mum. Let me introduce you to Greg.’ Sarah stood aside and made a grand sweeping gesture. ‘Greg, this is my mother.’
Greg had abandoned his bags and wiped his hands on his shorts before holding one out. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Lewis.’
‘Oh, do call me Eleanor.’ Sarah’s mother touched her dark, structured hair with one hand while taking Greg’s with the other. ‘Goodness, you are strong,’ Eleanor sim-pered, patting Greg’s biceps while Sarah tried to control the urge to roll her eyes.
‘Come inside, the two of you. Everyone is dying to meet you, Greg,’ Eleanor called over her shoulder as she led them inside.
He dutifully followed her mother while Sarah brought the bags in off the front veranda and shut the door. She heard the dining room erupt into cries of greeting as the family devoured poor Greg whole. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Eva Scott

Eva comes from a family of storytellers and has been writing her own stories since she could hold a pencil. Growing up in a multicultural neighbourhood in Melbourne, Eva developed her wanderlust and a passion for culture and language. She travelled the world, living in Britain before coming home to Australia to study Anthropology. Wanderlust got the better of her again, so Eva packed up and headed to Papua New Guinea to live and work where she was completely in her element. Eva’s passion for the Australian country is born of her large extended family, which is spread out across the land. She volunteers at the local primary schools, teaching writing and working with children to incite a love of books and reading. Eva’s books explore relationships, culture, our roles in changing society, love and loss. She loves finding connections with readers over shared experiences.

If you’d like to know more about Eva, her books, or to connect with her online, you can visit her website: evascottwriter.com

In the red heart of Queensland, two teenagers playing matchmaker are about to turn more than one life upside-down.

Widower Sam Costello has no time for love. When he’s not working on his farm, he’s trying to figure out how to connect with his teenage son Levi.

But Levi is about to finish high school, and he has big plans to move to Sydney for university with his best friend Maddie. If only he didn’t feel so guilty about abandoning his dad. Maddie has her own reasons for wanting to go to Sydney and she’s not going to let Levi’s dad ruin her future happiness. Mr Costello needs a girlfriend and, with her talent for matchmaking, Maddie is the girl to make it happen. By the time Mr C figures out what she’s done, surely he’ll be too in love to be angry.

Journalist Sarah Lewis has a good job, a nice boyfriend and a safe life in Sydney. Though sometimes she wonders if life has more to offer than nice and safe. When she starts working on an article about finding love in the outback she finds herself asking whether journalists should become this invested in their research. But there’s just something about Lonely in Longreach. Could it be that the man behind the dating profile is the key to the passion she has been looking for?

Sleepless in Seattle meets rural Australia in this fresh romantic comedy about optimism, online dating and love at first sight. 

FIND IT HERE