Welcome to Claire Marti

Readers have asked me if I base my characters on real people. Yes and no. My stories are character driven and I definitely incorporate qualities from different people I know or strangers I’ve observed. A full-bellied laugh, a husky voice, or a quirky habit might appear in one of my fictional people. 

In Sunset in Laguna, I delved into my own personal disenchantment with practicing law to fuel some of heroine Kelly Prescott’s motivation to leave her father’s high-profile corporate firm. The last six months of my short legal career, I cried in the shower every morning, wondering how I would get through the day. I was 28 years old. 

Like many others, I attended law school for all the wrong reasons. I had no clue what to do with my English and French degree and I loved to talk and write. A desire to save the whales, protect the environment, and do it while wearing fancy suits in polished courtrooms just like on television played a role in my decision too. Brilliant, right? 

Not really. In law school, I realized early on I didn’t fit in, but I’m stubborn so I refused to quit. Then, I clerked at an excellent firm, passed the formidable California bar on the first attempt, and received an offer from a respectable mid-sized firm. Weren’t those all signs I was on the right path? 

Not really. As most people know, television legal dramas are not accurate representations. I was bored, over-worked, and the only adrenaline pumping came from the caffeine I mainlined to stay awake. You haven’t lived until you’ve deposed fifty homeowners living in a golf course community complaining of holes in their windows from stray golf balls. 

As time passed, boredom morphed into disillusionment. The legal system I learned about in school didn’t exist in real life. Instead, most cases were petty fights over money that could have been worked out if the parties would discuss the issues like adults. Many of the lawyers I dealt with had zero interest in resolving the cases and had no qualms lying, cheating, or acting like nasty middle-school bullies. Many of the battles felt more like personal affronts instead of legal disputes. I didn’t want to live in this environment. So I left and started over. 

Kelly Prescott shares my vision of using the law for justice and when she moves to a veteran’s non-profit, she is finally using her gifts to help others.

Blurb:

Returning to Laguna Beach after four tours in the Middle East, Christian Wolfe leaves the military behind and buys a wine bar, vowing to keep his life simple. He fights to keep his devastating PTSD a secret and refuses to burden anyone else with his baggage. When stunning Kelly Prescott and her red stilettos saunter into town, she drives him past the bonds of his self-control.

Successful in her father’s stuffy law firm, Kelly’s too compassionate to survive in the cutthroat world of corporate litigation. Leaving behind both family and courtroom drama, she moves to Laguna to become general counsel for a nonprofit veterans’ organization.

She didn’t bargain on a gorgeous modern-day Heathcliff, and in Christian, she sees another kind of challenge—one she can’t resist.

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Claire Marti started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to pick up pencil and paper. After graduating from the University of Virginia with a BA in English Literature, Claire was sidetracked by other careers, including practicing law, selling software for legal publishers, and managing a non-profit animal rescue for a Hollywood actress. 

Finally, Claire followed her heart and now focuses on two of her true passions: writing romance and teaching yoga. At Last in Laguna is the second book in her Finding Forever in Laguna seriesfrom The Wild Rose Press.

Website:  www.clairemarti.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/ClaireMartiAuthor/

Twitter:  @clairepmarti

Instagram: @clairepmarti

Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8203678.Claire_Marti

EXCERPT:

Maybe he just needed a punishing session with the punching bag or a few fingers of Jameson whiskey. Stop being such a damn wuss. Workouts and alcohol weren’t driving the demons away. He stepped forward. 

Something needed to change.

“Christian?” A husky voice lilted his name.
His head whipped to the right. A beautiful woman dressed in a conservative dark suit and tortoiseshell glasses stared at him. Somewhere in his brain he registered dangerously toned legs encased in red skyscraper-high stilettos. 

Sweat popped onto his brow, and he swallowed, his throat suddenly parched. Recognition flooded his system when he dragged his gaze up from those spiked heels. Her tawny cat eyes captured his—Kelly Prescott. Didn’t she live in San Diego? 

“Um, hey, Kelly.” What the hell was she doing at Peaceful Warrior? 

“What are you—?”


“Why are you—?”


“Ladies first.” Distract. Deflect. Damn it to hell. 

“Well, it’s kind of a secret at the moment, but I’m about to interview for the general counsel position here.” The corners of her rosy lips curved up.

“General counsel?” For some reason he couldn’t seem to utter more than two words at a time. 

“Yes. They’ve needed one for a long time and recently got a grant to fund it. So here I am.” She walked toward him. Hints of cinnamon and some exotic scent assaulted his nostrils. 

He drew in his abs and expanded his chest. Kind of like a rooster. He grunted. “You’re going to commute?”

“No, if I get the job, I’m actually moving up here.” She shrugged and flashed perfect white teeth, oblivious of his discomfort. 

“Huh.” Over a year ago, her golden beauty had caught his attention when she’d accompanied his buddy Nick and Sophie to Vines. He’d been single at the time—hell, he was always single—and asked Nick about her. She was Sophie’s best friend. His attraction cooled when he’d learned she was a wealthy corporate attorney working for her daddy’s firm and dating another lawyer. Too complicated. 

“So what are you doing here?” She tilted her head up, still about a foot shorter than he was, even with those damn shoes that would be forever burned into his brain. 

“Oh, just taking a break from work, getting some fresh air.” He gestured with palms sweatier than they’d ever been in the searing heat of the Middle East.