Carmel-by-the-Sea, California 1985

From the moment she woke, Dr. Maisie Daniels’ day became a series of comedic blunders bent on destroying her sanity. It started the instant her alarm went off.

Scratch that.

The alarm failed to go off because its batteries died during the night.

But at this time of year, the peak of summer, what could one call night when the sun rose so early?

Maisie had learned to sleep through the early sunrise, letting the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window creep up the bed, the heat of it leaching through the thin blankets. Not that she slept with many blankets. More often than not, the morning light crept over her bare legs and gave her dreams of sunbathing on Carmel Beach. In her semi-conscious state, she could almost hear the waves crashing on the white sandy beach at the edge of town.

It wasn’t until sunlight flashed in her eyes that she realized she wasn’t on the beach. It was Friday and she’d overslept.

“Oh, no,” she exclaimed, along with a few expletives, as she pulled herself out of bed. She repeated her curses when she saw the time.

It didn’t help matters any when her friend and secretary, Pamela Howard, laughed when she rang to cancel her remaining morning appointments.

“Already handled it,” Pam said, not trying to hide her mirth.

“Where would I be without you?”

“Probably living in a box on the beach.”

Maisie laughed. “See you after lunch.”

She loved the little town of Carmel-by-the-Sea and decided a stroll would be just the thing to clear her head. Always trying to see the bright side of things, she brushed off the day’s late start, and after rushing through her morning routine, she headed for the front door.

It was when she found herself on the doorstep of her cozy little Comstock, one of Carmel’s gingerbread cottages, with the shut door behind her that she realized the brighter side of things didn’t always turn out how one wished.

It wasn’t as if the weather was bad. Other times of year, the heavy misty fog that crept into Carmel Bay overnight would have burned off once the sun came over the Santa Lucia Mountains. But in the height of summer, that phenomenon rarely occurred and the beauty of the day was instantly evident as Maisie stepped through the front door and a wall of warm air hit her. Sunlight glinted through the boughs of California Live Oaks and Monterey Pines surrounding her cottage and winked off the chimes dangling amongst the branches. She knew the shade provided by the trees would be cool, but the trees were so thick around her little cottage that it socked in stagnant heat, creating a sweltering pool of hot air she’d have to walk through to reach Torres Street.

No, it wasn’t the weather causing her grief, or the throngs of celebrity-seeking tourists she knew she’d have to wade through to get to her office—they all came to see Clint, especially now that he was running for Mayor. It was the fact she had decided to leave the house without her sweater. It was so warm she wore little more than a white t-shirt tucked into cut-off denim shorts—perfect attire for a beautiful summer day in Carmel.

What irked Maisie was that her sweater sat on the sofa beside her purse.

She distinctly remembered the location of her purse because it contained her house keys. The same keys she’d just left the house without. The very same keys she’d need to get back in again!

Groaning aloud, Maisie hoped the old adage ‘start as you mean to go on’ didn’t mean her failed alarm clock and locking herself out of the house was a portent to the rest of her day.

“Well, a stroll through town doesn’t require keys. I’ll walk to the office to get the spare set then come back and get ready for work.”

Great, now she was talking to herself, the realization hitting her with some irony. She was the town’s new therapist, having moved to Carmel from Southern California three months ago at Pam’s encouragement, and often counseled patients on their anxious behaviors. Though she didn’t consider herself an anxious person, she always thought of herself as fairly laid back, but today’s start was beginning to eat at her.

Squaring her shoulders, she set off through her garden gate and down Sixth Street. She crossed Junipero Avenue and entered through a gap in the trees leading into the park.

Devendorf Park was the diamond in Carmel’s crown. Named for one of Carmel’s developers, James Frank Devendorf, the park encompassed an entire block of prime real estate in the heart of the town.

Open to Ocean Avenue, the town’s main street, the park was flanked on its remaining three sides by oaks and pines, like those around her cottage. Paths meandered under heavy tree limbs which hung over flowerbeds growing vibrant with colorful blooms, the scents of which were heady in the warm air.

The center of the park boasted a field of grass so verdant it looked like shimmering emerald velvet in the sunshine. It was the kind of grass one would slip out of their shoes and run across, knowing that even on a day like today the coolness of the green blades would pacify the flesh.

Bliss.

Well, bliss unless you missed one of the many signs posted at each entrance into the park:

No —
Playing ball
Skateboarding
Kite flying
Climbing trees
Picking flowers
Eating or drinking
Littering
Dogs
Keep off the grass

And Maisie’s favorite: No loitering.

The town designed an oasis in an otherwise bustling little town then made it an offense to use it. She sometimes wondered about the logic of the town council. They always seemed to come up with some crazy regulations.

With the threat of prosecution, Maisie hurried through the park lest she be cited for dallying.

Midway across the park, her mind on getting to the office, she stepped in something that shouldn’t have been on the path, let alone in the park.

When she looked down, two things crossed her mind. The first was how thoughtful the dog had been to stay off the forbidden grass. The second was total, utter and complete embarrassment as her gaze slipped down her bare legs and saw what else was on her feet.

Her slippers.

Not just any slippers, but her pink bunny slippers!

She shot a quick glance around, suddenly panicked. Had anyone seen the town’s therapist traipsing through the park in her bunny slippers?

The answer was a resounding yes.

One of Carmel’s finest stood on the sidewalk with an open-mouth stare. She might have been attracted to his handsome tanned features and his obviously toned body if she wasn’t so damned mortified! The quicker she got to her office the better.

Without thinking, she rubbed her foot in the grass to remove as much of the fetid mess as possible then raced for Ocean Avenue. She paid little attention to the stares she received and prayed she didn’t meet up with anyone she knew. Especially a patient.

REVIEWS

I picked up No Law Against Love becuase of a writer local to my home town of Carmel by-the-Sea, California. Kemberlee Shortland's story, "Tutti-Frutti Blues" and "Dude Looks Like a Lady", brought back memories of the small town I grew up in. Shortland's style of writing is both fun and creative; I look forward to reading more of this authors work in the future!

~ T.Zwagerman, reader

Tutti-Frutti is a special love story filled with romance between two people that is so unique in its own way. A little ice cream with no spoons could turn out delightfully wicked with that one special person. Ms. Shortland crafts an adorable little romance! It had a certain flare to it with the slippers and such a zany day, quite uplifting!

~ Linda, Romance at Heart Magazine

NO LAW AGAINST LOVE is like an assorted box of deluxe chocolate bonbons. There is something there worthy of every palate. Every devilishly naughty story is based upon a “silly law” still on the law books. Yet, because of these existing laws the heroes and heroines are brought together in undeniable love. I couldn’t read just one. Like chocolate melting in my mouth I had to open the box again and chose another delectable morsel. And you will too. You won’t be able to stop yourself.

~ JoEllen Conger, author

REMARKABLY MARVELOUS COLLECTION! ENJOY EACH AND EVERY STORY - LOVELY AND WELL-DONE!

~ Viviane Crystal, Crystal Reviews

Here are twenty-four stories for your reading pleasure. Truly, they are all well-written and entertaining. Several are hilarious. I give NO LAW AGAINST LOVE Top Pick for fun-factor and Top Pick for HOT-factor. My only complaint is that the stories weren't longer. They are all great reads but Bad Cat, Single Girls Can't Jump, and Dude Looks Like a Lady were my favorites. But, you read it, and pick your own favorite. They're all fabulous.

~ Cynthia Whitten, Romance Reader at Heart

I didn't read one story that I didn't thoroughly enjoy. There was an excellent mix among stories and authors...I laughed, I cried and I wanted more...I can't tell when I enjoyed an anthology more. I only had one complaint and that was I wished some of the stories were longer which can't be a bad thing...I look forward to more anthologies from these talented authors and from Highland Press.

~ Kathy Boswell, The Best Reviews

...you are in for an unbelievably rollicking good time!...one unforgettable, funny and sensual delight. This book comes highly recommended!

~ Marilyn Rondeau, Amazon

A marvelous collection of romantic tales about how love conquers all, despite or because of a silly law.

~ Diane Davis White, author

Authors from around the world have taken silly laws and created wonderfully romantic, fun, and entertaining romance stories. Be well entertained while supporting a worthy cause. Trust me there are no other anthologies on the market today that cover such a wide range of genres and taste.

~ Kristi Ahlers, Romantic Times

(No Law Against Love) A stellar anthology that had me laughing, sighing in pleasure, believing in magic, and left me begging for more! Will there be a second anthology someday? I sure hope so! This is one novel that I will go directly to my "Keeper" shelf, to be read over and over again. Very highly recommended!

~ Detra Fitch, Huntress Reviews