Ep.23) Tides of the Heart

1. relationships
2. second-chance love
3. small-town drama
4. emotional storytelling
5. love stories
6. family legacy
7. romantic drama
8. pottery romance
9. Clayhollow
10. Clara Wren
11. Miles Tarrow
12. Lila Sterling
13. Midnight’s Shadow
14. artisan romance
15. community bonds

Shadows Before Midnight
Step into the moonlit forests of New England romance with Lila Sterling’s tales of love, legacy, and supernatural intrigue. From the pines of Maine to the hearths of small-town artisans, each story weaves passion and mystery under the stars.
© 2025 Lila Sterling. All rights reserved. Recorded under the moonlit pines of New England, September 17, 2025.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Tides of the Heart, a Harlequin romance, Chapter one, The
Return to tide Haven. The coastal village of Tidehaven shimmered
under the September sun, its cliffs kissed by salt spray,
its harbor dotted with fishing boats bobbing like corks. Elise
Marrow stepped onto the weathered boardwalk, her sandals soft against
the wood, the sea's tang filling her lungs. At thirty two,

(00:24):
she was back in the place she'd left a decade ago,
running from a broken heart and a life that felt
too small. Her career as a travel writer in New
York had been a whirlwind of deadlines and exotic locales,
but her grandmother's sudden passing had brought her home to inherit.
The Driftwood Gallery, a quaint art's space. Teetering on the

(00:45):
edge of ruin. The gallery's shingle sign swayed in the breeze,
its paint chipped, but defiant, Elise pushed open the door,
the bell's chime stirring memories of summers spent sketching by
the sea, her grandmother's laughter echoing through the halls. Now
the space was quiet, its walls lined with faded sea scapes,
its shelves cluttered with dust. She was here to save it,

(01:08):
or sell it and move on, Elise. A deep voice
cut through the silence. She turned to see a man
standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by sunlight. He
was tall, with a rugged build, his dark hair streaked
with silver at the temple's, his blue eyes piercing yet warm.
Her heart stuttered. Wyat Langston, her high school sweetheart, the

(01:28):
man who'd shattered her dreams at twenty two. Wyat, she said,
her voice steadier than her pulse. What are you doing here?
He stepped inside, his work, boots heavy on the floor.
I manage the marina now. Your gran asked me to
keep an eye on the gallery. Didn't know you'd be back.
Elise's throat tightened. Her grandmother had never mentioned Wyat, not

(01:51):
in ten years of letters. I'm here to handle the gallery,
she said, brushing a curl from her face. It won't
take long. His eyes darkened, a flicker of something regret
crossing his face. Tide Haven's not the same without you.
It's not my home anymore, she said, turning to a
stack of canvases to hide the ache. In her chest,

(02:12):
but Wyatt's presence was a tide, pulling her back to
a past she'd fought to forget. Chapter two, Sparks by
the Sea. Over the next few days, Elise dove into
the gallery's chaos, mismatched accounts, peeling paint, and a roof
that leaked with every rain. Wyatt was a constant shadow,
dropping by to fix a squeaky door or patch a window,

(02:34):
his quiet competence both reassuring and unsettling. He was different, now, steadier,
with a guarded edge that hadn't been there when they
were young, but his blue eyes still held the spark
that had once made her believe in forever. One afternoon,
as a squawl rolled in from the sea, Elise was
sorting through old sketches in the galleries loft when the
lights flickered, rain hammered the roof and a drip landed

(02:57):
on her sketchbook. She cursed, grabbing a bucket when Wyatt appeared,
his jacket soaked, his hair plastered to his forehead. Need
a hand, he asked, his voice low over the storm's roar.
I've got it, she said, but the bucket slipped, water
splashing her jeans. Wyat caught it, the hands brushing, and

(03:17):
a jolt shot through her. Warm and dangerous. Still stubborn,
he said a half smile, tugging at his lips. She glared,
but her heart raced. Why you hear, Wyat? Really? He
set the bucket down, his eyes locking on to hers.
Your gran asked me to look after this place, said
it was your heart, even if you didn't know it.

(03:40):
Elise's breath caught. She was wrong, I'm selling and leaving.
Wyat stepped closer, rain dripping from his hair. You sure
about that, Elise, this place it's in your blood. The
air crackled, the storm outside, mirroring her in a turmol.
She wanted to push him away, to run from the
pull of his gaze, but her feet stayed rooted. We

(04:01):
were kids, Wyat. It's over, is it, he asked, his
voice soft a challenge. Thunder rumbled and they both laughed,
the tension easing for a moment. They worked together to
secure the leak, their movements a quiet dance. When their
shoulders brushed, Elise's skin tingled and she caught Wyatt's glance. Intense, unguarded,

(04:23):
she turned away, her pulse pounding She wasn't here for this.
She couldn't be. Chapter three, Echoes of the Past. As
weeks passed, Elise and Wyat settled into a tense rhythm,
working around the gallery while dodging the ghosts of their past.
She caught herself watching him, his hands deftly repairing a frame,
his rare laugh warming the salty air. But every moment

(04:46):
of connection was shadowed by their break up, Wyat's sudden distance,
his refusal to explain why he'd let her go. One evening,
while sorting through her grandmother's office, Elise found a letter
tucked inside a sketch book. It was addressed to her
in her grandmother's spidery script. Elise, the gallery is yours,
but so is the truth. Ask Wyat about his promise.

(05:09):
He deserves to know your strong enough to hear it.
Her heart raised, What promise? She glanced at Wyat, who
was hanging a new painting, his smile easy, but guarded
what was he hiding. After closing, she confronted him in
the loft, the air thick with the scent of paint
and sea. Wyat, she said, holding up the letter, what

(05:30):
promise did you make my grandmother? His face paled, his hands,
stilling on a canvas. Where'd you find that? Answer me,
she pressed, stepping closer. What don't I know? He exhaled,
running a hand through his hair. When we were together,
your gran saw how much I loved you, but I
was drowning. My dad's business failed. I was stuck here.

(05:52):
She made me promise not to hold you back, to
let you chase your dreams. Elise's breath caught you. Broke
up with me because her, not just her, he said,
his eyes haunted. I couldn't give you the life you deserved.
You were meant for the world, Elise, not tide Haven.
Tears pricked her eyes. You should have told me I

(06:13):
would have stayed. That's why I didn't, he said, stepping closer.
I loved you too much to trap you here. Her
throat tightened. You broke my heart, wyats, I broke mine too,
he said, his voice roar. He reached for her, but
she stepped back, afraid of the fire in his touch.
I need time, she said, turning away, the letter trembling

(06:35):
in her hands. Chapter four, The Festival's Tide. Tide Haven's
Autumn Tide Festival was days away, and the gallery was
set to host an art's sale to draw buyers and locals.
Elise threw herself into preparations, hanging vibrant sea scapes, her
heart torn between selling the gallery and the pull of
her past. Wyat helped his presence steady, but charged their

(06:58):
every glance heavy with unspoken words. The night of the festival,
the village glowed with fairy lights, the harbor alive with
music and laughter. Elise wore a sea green dress that
flowed like waves, her curls loose, but her smile was strained.
As she greeted guests. Wyatt's eyes followed her, his crisp
shirt accentuating his rugged frame, making her heart skip. You're

(07:23):
making this place shine, he said, handing her a glass
of cider, his voice warm. She smirked, her nerves easing,
just trying to sell it. His gaze softened. Is that
really what you want? Before she could answer, a woman's
voice cut through the crowd. Wyat Langstone, still tied to

(07:43):
this little gallery I see. Elise turned to see a
woman in a sleek coat, her auburn hair gleaming, her
smile sharp. Wyatt's face hardened serena. He said, what are
you doing here? Serena's eyes flicked to Elie's, calculating just
scoping out an opportunity. This gallery could be a gem
with the right vision. Elise's heart sank, another threat, another secret,

(08:09):
and Wyatt's past was rising like a tide, threatening to
sweep them away. Chapter five, The Storm of Serena. The
Autumn Tide Festival's lights danced across Tidehaven's harbor, but Elise
Marrow's heart was caught in a riptide. Serena's arrival had
shattered the evening's warmth. Her sleek coat and sharp smile
a stark contrast to the village's cozy glow. Her words

(08:32):
scoping out an opportunity, hung like a storm cloud, threatening
the Driftwood gallery and the fragile connection Elise was rebuilding
with Wyatt Langston. Serena lingered near the gallery's entrance, her
auburn hair catching the fairy lights. Her eyes fixed on Wyat.
You've done well here, Wyat, she said, her voice smooth
as sea glass. But this place could be so much more,

(08:56):
a luxury gallery, a coastal retreat. My firm seized the
Wyat's jaw tightened, his blue eyes cold. It's not yours
to change, Serena leave. Serena's smile didn't waver, not yet.
She turned to Elise, her gaze assessing you're the air.
I take it, Elise Marrow. My firm's prepared to make

(09:17):
an offer you can't ignore. Elise's spine stiffened, her hands
clenching the galleries not for sale. Serena laughed, a sound
like breaking waves. Everything has a price, Darling, especially when
debts are calling. She sauntered into the festival crowd, her
coat swishing, leaving a chill in her wake. Elise turned

(09:38):
to Wyat, her voice sharp, Who is she? Wyat? And
don't give me half truths? He exhaled, rubbing his neck.
Serena blake. We crossed paths in Portland years ago after
you left. She's a real estate shark, always hunting for deals.
I didn't know she'd come here. Crossed paths, Elise pressed,
stepping closer. The memory of their youth, kisses stolen on

(10:02):
the boardwalk, promises whispered under Starlit skis felt distant. Now,
what's the real story? Wyatt's eyes met hers, shadowed with regret.
She offered me a job at her firm, Away out
of tide Haven. I turned her down. She didn't take
it well. Elise's chest tightened, and now she's here sniffing

(10:22):
around my grandmother's gallery. Did you tell her about the debts,
Wyat hesitated his silence and knife. I mentioned the gallery's
struggles once in passing. I didn't think she'd use it
against you. The betrayal strung. You should have told me,
she said, her voice trembling. I'm trying to save this place, Wyat,
and your keeping secrets. I'm sorry, he said, stepping closer,

(10:47):
his warmth cutting through the chilly air. I'm on your side. Elise,
let me prove it. She wanted to believe him, but
doubts swirled like the tide. I need time, she said,
turning toward the harbor, her heart a tangle of longing
and mistrust. Chapter six, Currents of Trust. The next morning,
Tidehaven woke to a gentle mist, the sea whispering against

(11:10):
the cliffs. Elise threw herself into the gallery's chaos, sorting invices,
scrubbing floors, planning an art auction to draw locals. The
debts were worse than she'd feared. Unpaid taxes, a leaking roof,
and alone. Her grandmother had taken to keep the doors open.
Selling seemed inevitable, but the thought of losing the gallery,
her grandmother's legacy, felt like losing herself. Wyat was scarce,

(11:34):
tending to the marina, his absence a quiet ache. Elise
caught herself missing his steady presence, his rare laugh that
warmed the salty air. But Serena's words gnawed at her.
Everything has a price. Could she trust Wyat when his
past kept washing ashore? At noon, Serena appeared at the gallery,
her heels clicking on the boardwalk. Thought I'd make it official,

(11:56):
she said, sliding a contract across the counter, A million
for the gallery. Elise, clear your debts, walk away free.
Elise's grip tightened on a paintbrush. I told you it's
not for sale, Serena smirked. Leaning closer. Your drowning, and
Wyat knows it. Ask him about the offer he entertained

(12:16):
last year. He's not as loyal as you think. Elise's
blood ran cold. Another secret. She found Wyat at the marina,
repairing a boat, his hands stained with grease. Serena says,
you considered an offer for the gallery. She said, her
voice trembling. Is it true? Wyat set down his wrench,
his eyes meeting hers. It was before your grand passed.

(12:40):
The gallery was struggling, and Serena's firm dangled away out.
I said, no, Elise, I couldn't betray her. Why didn't
you tell me, she asked, tears pricking her eyes. I
didn't want to hurt you, he said, stepping closer. I
stayed because of you, Elise, because I never stopped loving
Your breath caught her heart, warring with doubt. I don't

(13:03):
know if I can trust you, Wyat. Not with her here,
then let me show you, he said, his hand brushing hers.
The touch sent a shiver through her, and for a
moment she leaned into it, the tide of their past
pulling her under Chapter seven Sparks in the night. The
days blurred into a dance of tension and longing. Elise

(13:23):
and Wyatt worked side by side, preparing the gallery for
the auction. There every interaction charged, his fingers grazing hers
as they hung a painting, his smile softening the weight
of her fears. But Serena's presence was a constant shadow.
Her visits to Tidehaven laced with barbed comments about the
gallery's fate. One evening, as the sun dipped below the cliffs,

(13:46):
painting the sea in hues of crimson and gold, Elise
stayed late to finish a display. Wyat joined her, stringing
fairy lights across the gallery's windows. His movements steady and
sure you're good at this, she said, watching him ad
just a bulb, the glow softening his rugged features. He
grinned a spark in his blue eyes. Learned from my dad.

(14:09):
He loved fixing things, broke a lot of hearts though.
Belize hesitated, then asked, do you ever wonder what would
have happened if we hadn't ended? Wyatt's hands stilled every day.
But I let you go so you could shine, and
you did. Her throat tightened. I shone, but I was lonely.
I missed you, Wyat. He stepped closer, the air humming

(14:33):
between them. I missed you too. I'm not letting you
go again. Her heart pounded, and before she could think,
he kissed her, slow, deep, a tide of heat that
swept away her doubts. She melted into him, her hands
tangling in his hair. The sea's rhythm echoing their pulse.
They pulled apart, breathless. When a shadow crossed the window.

(14:54):
Serena stood outside, her eyes narrowing. Well, isn't this sweet,
she said, stepping in side. But love won't save this gallery. Elise.
Wyatt's arm tightened around her. Get out, Serena, he said,
his voice cold. Serena laughed, her gaze sharp. You're throwing
away a fortune, Wyat, And for what a crumbling dream.

(15:17):
Elise's face burned, but she stood tall. This is my
grandmother's legacy. You can't have it. Serena's smile was a blade.
We'll see. She turned and left, her heels echoing on
the boardwalk. Chapter eight Unraveled Secrets. The next morning, Elise
woke with Wyatt's kiss lingering, but Serena's words gnawed at her.

(15:38):
Was the gallery a lost cause? And could she trust
Wyatt with his past tangled in secrets? She found a
journal in her grandmother's desk, its pages filled with sketches
and notes. One entry stopped her cold. Wyatt's heart is true,
but he's afraid. Tell Elise the truth when she's ready.
What truth? Elise confronted Wyat in the galley's loft, the

(16:00):
air thick with paint and salt. My grandmother wrote about you,
she said, holding up the journal. What truth wyat? He exhaled,
his eyes haunted. Your gran knew why I ended things.
She saw me struggling, my dad's debts, my fear of
holding you back. She told me to let you go,
but to stay close, to protect the gallery for you.

(16:22):
Elise's heart ached. You let me go because of her,
not just her, he said, stepping closer. I loved you
too much to trap you here, but I never stopped
hopping you'd come back. Tears streamed down her face. You
should have told me, I know, he said, his voice raw.
I'm telling you now, Elise, I love you. The words

(16:43):
broke her open. But Serena's threat loomed, and the gallery's
debts were a ticking clock. As she stood there, the
journal trembling in her hands. A call from the bank
changed everything. A new loan offer, but it came with
a catch. Sell the gallery or lose it forever. Chapter nine,
The Edge of Choice. The bank's call echoed in Elee's

(17:05):
marrow's ears like the crash of waves against Tidehaven's cliffs.
A new loane offer but sell the gallery or lose
it forever. She stood in the driftwood galleries loft, her
grandmother's journal, trembling in her hands, its words, Wyat's heart
is true, clashing with the weight of the decision before her.
The gallery, with its weathered walls and sea worn charm,

(17:25):
was her last tie to her grandmother, to her past.
But the debts were a riptide pulling her under, and
Serena's million dollar offer loomed like a storm. Wyat Langston
found her there, his blue eyes searching hers, his presence
a steady anchor in the chaos. Elise, he said, his
voice soft over the distant hum of the sea. What

(17:47):
did the banks say? She handed him the journal, her
voice breaking. They offered a loan, but only if I
put the gallery up as collateral. If we can't pay,
they'll take it. Serena's offer. It's safer. Wyat's jaw tightened
as he read her grandmother's words. Your gran believed in
this place, in us. Don't let Serena win us, Elise asked,

(18:10):
tears pricking her eyes. Wyat, you kept secrets about Serena,
about the offer last year. How do I trust you now?
He stepped closer, his warmth cutting through the chilly air.
I messed up, Elise. I let you go once, and
I hid things to protect you. But I'm here now
and I'm not leaving. I love you, her heart stuttered.

(18:31):
His words are tied, pulling her in. I love you too,
she whispered. But I'm scared of losing the gallery, of
losing you. You won't lose me, he said, his hand
cupping her cheek. We'll save this place together. The promise
held her, but Serena's threat and the bank's ultimatum loomed,
and the festival's final day was to morrow. Elise nodded,

(18:53):
her resolve, hardening o k Let's Fight, Chapter ten, Serena's
final play. The morning of the festival's final day dawned crisp,
Tidehaven's harbor alive with music and the scent of salt
and cider. The gallery buzzed with preparations for the art auction,
paintings gleaming under fairy lights, locals and tourists filling the space.

(19:15):
Elise wore a sapphirr dress that hugged her curves, Her
curls loose, but her nerves jangled. Serena was circling, and
the bank's deadline was midnight. Serena arrived at noon, her
auburn hair gleaming, her smile sharp as a blade. Last chance, Elise,
she said, sliding a new contract across the counter, one

(19:35):
point three million cash, walk away rich. Elise's stomach twisted,
but she pushed the contract back. I'm not selling this
is my home. Serena's eyes narrowed. You're making a mistake.
Wyat's holding you back, just like he did ten years ago.
Wyatt appeared, his present steady. She's not going anywhere, Serena.

(19:57):
Neither am I. Serena laughed, glancing at the crowd. We'll
see my firm doesn't lose. As she left, Elise turned
to Wyat, her voice trembling. One point three million, Wyat,
we could clear the debts, start over. What if we're wrong?
He took her hands, his eyes fierce. We're not wrong.

(20:17):
This gallery, this town, it's us. I'll fight for it
for you. Her throat tightened, his words, anchoring her. They
threw themselves into the auction, Elise showcasing her grandmother's seascapes,
Wyat charming bidders with stories of tide Haven's history. The
bids climbed, but not enough to cover the debts. Chapter eleven,

(20:38):
The Tide turns. Desperate, Elise and Wyatt rallied the town
for a final push, a community fundraiser to save the gallery.
Locals donated crafts, fishermen offered boat tour, and Elise's travel
photos became prized auction items. The gallery glowed under the
festival's lights, the sea whispering encouragement. Serena returned her presence

(21:02):
at chill in the warm night. Cute effort, she said,
sidling up to Elise, but it won't be enough. Sign
my offer by midnight, or my firm will push for foreclosure.
Elise stood tall, wiat at her side. We're not giving up.
As the auction continued, a local artist stepped forward, offering
a rare painting that sparked a bidding war. The total

(21:24):
surged enough to cover the debts and secure the loan.
The crowd cheered, and Serena's smile faltered, her eyes flashing
with defeat. You won't last, she said, her voice low.
This place will drag you down. No, Elise said, her
voice firm. It lifts us up. Serena turned and left

(21:45):
her heels echoing on the boardwalk. Her threat fadding like mist,
Elise exhaled, leaning into Wyatt's warmth. We did it, she whispered.
He grinned, pulling her clothes. We're just getting started. Chapter twelve,
Forever by the Sea. Months later, the Driftwood Gallery thrived,
a hub for local artists, its walls alive with color,

(22:08):
its porch packed with visitors. Elise had stayed her travel, writing,
blending with tide Haven's charm, her heart anchored by Wyatt.
One winter evening, as snow dusted the cliffs, they walked
the shore, the sea's rhythm a soft lullaby. Wyat stopped,
pulling a small box from his pocket. Inside was a
pearl ring, its luster echoing the tide's glow. Elise, marrow,

(22:32):
This gallery brought you back to me. Will you stay forever?
Marry me? Tears of joy streamed down her face. Yes,
she said, throwing her arms around him. Yes, Wyat. They
kissed under the starlit sky, the tide's song a symphony
of their love, the past, Serena's schemes, the debts, their

(22:52):
heart break dissolved, leaving only their future bound by the
heart of tide Haven,