Rosie Lucas is doing her best to hold everything together — her family, her late husband’s construction business, and her heart. But when a handsome, widowed writer moves in nearby, and her daughter returns home with secrets of her own, Rosie learns that second chances can be the hardest to build… and the most worth fighting for.
Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from The Rainy Day Bookshop by RaeAnne Thayne, which is out June 2nd 2026.
Sandwiched between caring for her mother and rebuilding the relationship with her estranged daughter, Emma, Rosie Lucas’s life is full. In the best way. With Emma and her 3-year old daughter, Olive, back home, Rosie has a partner for The Rainy Day Bookshop, the family business, and a chance to fix the past. What she doesn’t have time for is a romantic relationship. And even if she did, Andrew Morgan is the last person she’d choose. Not only is he an arrogant and reclusive writer, but he’s a single dad with two young kids. She’s already been there, done that. Still as an irresistible flirtation builds between them, he becomes her unexpected confidante on the distance Rosie can’t seem to overcome with Emma, a secret she can’t quite unravel…
Emma isn’t proud of her past. But she’s pulled herself up by the bootstraps, caring for her own daughter, and protecting her mom at all costs. Just as she always has. She never told Rosie what she saw all those years ago and she never will. But some secrets refuse to stay buried, and sometimes the truth is more shocking than fiction. Rosie and Emma will have to navigate an unimaginable path forward. Together.
EXCERPT
Excerpted from The Rainy Day Bookshop, by RaeAnne Thayne. MIRA Books, 2026. Reprinted with permission.
Emma walked inside the bookstore and was momentarily speechless. All she could think was ew.
She hadn’t been in here in nearly a decade and it looked like not one single thing had changed. The bookstore seemed trapped in another era, with fluorescent lights, dingy paint the color of old bandages, and crowded, claustrophobia-inducing aisles stacked with dusty books.
Olive looked around. “This place is messy.”
That was one word for it. Emma could think of several others, none of which were appropriate to say in the presence of her three-year-old child.
“We’re in here,” Rosie called out.
Still holding Olive’s hand, Emma made her way to the office that ran along the rear wall. Dust motes floated like tiny shards of gold in the light coming through the front windows. She might think them pretty under other circumstances. Circumstances where she had not found herself suddenly responsible for turning a profit out of this cluttered, disorganized pit of despair.
Inside the office, she found her mother trying to move a chair so Sylvia’s wheelchair could fit at the computer desk.
“Did you see the play area when you came in?” Sylvia asked. “I keep old books I find at Goodwill and yard sales for kids to read while they’re in here. They can even take them home if they want. It’s our own version of a Little Free Library.”
“That’s nice. A play area is a good idea,” Emma said as she exchanged a look with her mother. Wasn’t a bookstore supposed to sell books?
“It gives the children somewhere to hang out in the store so they don’t pull everything off the shelves, plus keeps them occupied while their parents shop for books,” Sylvia said. “The toys may be outdated. I only have some blocks, a couple of trucks and a play kitchen I bought at a yard sale. The kids seem to enjoy it anyway.”
“Maybe Olive can play there sometimes while you’re working,” Rosie said, that anxious note in her voice again.
Her mother was trying so hard to make sure Emma was comfortable. Her eagerness made Emma’s throat feel tight and achy.
“That will be great,” she said, meaning the words.
Olive was the main reason she was here in Wood Briar. For her daughter’s entire life, Olive had spent more time in day care than with her own mother. Emma had been busy working or going to school, though she tried her best to juggle her responsibilities around her daughter’s schedule and take mostly online classes, where she could do the schoolwork while Olive was in bed.
Her daughter was smart, healthy, well-adjusted. But in her nearly four years, she had already been through eight day care situations.
In another year, she would be heading to kindergarten, then grade school. She was growing up far too fast. Emma wanted the chance to be with her more and to have her enjoy as much time as possible with her grandmother and great-grandmother.
Finding good quality childcare was the single hardest thing Emma had to do as a single mother. Harder than staying up all night with her when Olive was ill, even after a long shift at work. Harder than the constant grinding worry about finances. Harder than the equally grinding effort to stay sober so she could be the mother her daughter deserved.
Olive’s father was not in the picture whatsoever. Depending on her mood, Emma found that state of affairs either far more simple or much more complicated.
Most of the time, she thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t have to deal with Kevin Hollis on the daily.
Sometimes, though, she couldn’t help thinking how much easier her path would be if she had someone else to help carry the relentless parenting load.
