Knots and Stories
Lila makes owls.
Emotional support owls. Breakup owls. The kind of small, handmade magic that helps people survive Mondays and keep going anyway.
She's smart, talented, quietly funny—and very good at hiding behind yarn, glasses, and long sleeves. After a brutal breakup, Lila isn't looking for love. She's looking for stability, routine, and maybe a cup of coffee that doesn't taste like craft-fair regret.
Then Kris walks into her booth.
He's charming, creative, a little bruised by life—and he sees Lila immediately. Not as someone to rescue. Not as a consolation prize. But as a woman worth wanting. Worth choosing.
As sparks fly between craft tables and late-night conversations turn into something deeper, Lila has to decide if she's brave enough to step out from behind her work and let herself be seen—desire, fear, vulnerability, and all.
Knots and Stories is a contemporary romance about creative communities, second chances, and discovering that being "ordinary" can be the sexiest thing of all.
Warm, witty, and emotionally rich, this is a love story stitched together with honesty, laughter, and just a little bit of glitter.
Excerpt from “Knots and Stories”
“Hi,” he offered. “I’m Kris. First time here. Your owls are amazing.”
She opened her mouth to reply.
Nothing came out.
Sophie saw it happen.
With a slow grin, she slid between them like a matchmaking hurricane. “My sister,” she said, wrapping an arm around Lila’s stiff shoulder. “Say hi to the nice shoulders, Lila. He likes your owls.”
Kris glanced down at himself, then back at her. “Nice shoulders? Should I be flattered or alarmed?”
Lila blinked twice, then gave a shy, crooked smile that hit him harder than expected.
“Flattered,” she said softly.
Kris reached out and carefully picked up one of the owls from the front display—its corded talons perched delicately on a slice of sanded cedar, looped wings outstretched as if frozen mid-hug.
The tag read:
Emotional Support Owl – Hates Mondays.
Its eyes were mismatched buttons. A little crooked. Charming. It wore a lopsided pom-pom like a sleep hat, and someone—her—had added tiny felt coffee cups glued into its claws.
Kris smiled, eyes soft.
“Tell me about this one.”
Lila looked up, her fingers pausing on the half-knot she’d been pulling tight.
She blinked, surprised.
“Oh. Uh…” She took a breath, glanced at the owl, and something in her shoulders relaxed.
“He’s about… Tuesdays, actually,” she said. “Mondays get all the hate, but Tuesdays are when the existential dread hits. You survive Monday and then remember you have four more days to go, and you still haven’t folded the laundry. Or showered. Or emailed your ex’s sister about getting your baking dishes back.”
Kris laughed, completely and honestly.
Lila smirked. “So he was born out of that kind of week. I gave him sleepy eyes and the coffee to balance him out. Emotional support with just enough caffeine to stand upright.”
He nodded, inspecting the work up close.
“You used a split square knot for the wing base,” he said thoughtfully. “But that’s jute. Most people double it with waxed linen so the tension doesn’t shift.”
Lila blinked.
Hard.
“That’s… a pretty technical observation.”
She leaned forward a little without realizing it.
“Are you always this oddly… turned on by plant-based fibers?”
Kris choked on a laugh. “Two years of fiber arts at Lakeview Tech.”
“No way.”
“I wasn’t terrific,” he admitted. “But I loved the feel of it—the rhythm. I liked learning the knots. Couldn’t design anything worth hanging.”
Lila tilted her head, the corners of her mouth rising slowly.
“Well… I think you might’ve just earned owl-honorary status.”
“I mean,” Sophie cut in brightly, stepping between them like she was refereeing a very sexy spelling bee, “she is amazing.”
Lila didn’t move, still smiling at Kris.
Sophie poked her in the ribs.
“Lila! Use your words.”