A Belleweather Beach Novel

Hollywood
can wait.

By Crawley Finn

He came to the coast for a little quiet.
Belleweather had other plans.

Discover the story

Coming soon in paperback

Hollywood Can Wait paperback resting on a white beach chair overlooking white sand and turquoise Gulf waterSome places stay with you.
Coastal contemporary fictionAn unexpected romanceA family story worth finding
The story

A quiet getaway.
An unexpected
second act.

Leland Reed spent eleven years solving murders on TV. Now the studio wants him back, his agent won’t stop calling, and he’d like a few weeks away from other people’s plans for him.

So he grows a beard, puts on glasses, and rents a cottage in Belleweather Beach, the little Gulf Coast town where his late mother spent a summer she rarely mentioned. He brings an old photograph, three letters, and a note she never finished.

Kate Madison, who runs the café on the square, knows exactly who he is and isn’t telling. Kate’s mother knew his mother that summer. And the man who rents him a beach chair remembers a young woman Leland never knew.

The longer Leland stays, the harder it gets to picture leaving Kate. But Hollywood still has something he wants, and Kate has a life she won’t walk away from.

Meet the people of Belleweather

From coast to coast.

One life he knows by heart.
Another he never expected to find.

Photorealistic illustration of the view from the Hollywood Hills over Los Angeles
Hollywood HillsLos Angeles, California
Photorealistic interpretation of fictional Belleweather Beach, with white coastal houses and Gulf water in the distance
Belleweather BeachFlorida’s Gulf Coast · A fictional town

A life in the spotlight.

Eleven seasons, familiar faces, and a role everyone wants him to play again. Leland still loves the work. He’s less sure about the part he’s been handed next.

A place to stay awhile.

Sugar-white beaches, white houses with deep porches, and a square where the morning starts with coffee. Along Florida’s Panhandle, Belleweather has a way of making a visitor feel at home.

Among his mother’s things, an unfinished note
“There is something about that summer I should have told you.”

An old photograph gives him somewhere to begin.

Fictional weathered 1973 snapshot of Caroline barefoot on a white cottage porch, with a handwritten note: There is something about that summer I should have told you.
The people

In a small town,
you rarely stay
a stranger.

A café owner who sees past the famous face. A man who remembers his mother. An agent with a plane ticket and opinions of her own.

Leland came looking for a piece of his past. These are the people who complicate his future.

01
The summer guest

Leland Reed

Recognizable almost everywhere. Twice divorced. Trying to work out what he wants when no one else is deciding for him.

02
The woman behind the counter

Kate Madison

She has a café to run and a life she’s built for herself. A famous customer is interesting. A man who really listens is something else.

03
The man by the water

Tom

He can find you a good beach chair and make you a gin and tonic. Ask about Caroline, and the conversation becomes a little harder.

04
The agent who won’t give up

Nina Rosenthal

Precise, protective, and perfectly at home in Los Angeles. Florida’s humidity is another matter. She’d also appreciate a returned call.

Begin the book

Your chair
by the water is waiting.

Start at the airport, where Leland’s suitcase is on its way and Nina has already left three messages.

“By the time Leland’s suitcase reached the carousel, Nina had left three messages about an offer he had already declined.”

From Chapter One
Hollywood Can Wait front cover
Coming soon in paperback

Hollywood Can Wait

A Belleweather Beach Novel · Crawley Finn

A warm coastal novel about family, an unexpected romance, and making room for a life you didn’t plan.

Hollywood Can Wait · Crawley Finn

Chapter One

An excerpt

By the time Leland’s suitcase reached the carousel, Nina had left three messages about an offer he had already declined. He had listened to the first two while walking through the terminal. More money. Fewer episodes. A directing credit. The third began with a threat to call his eldest daughter, so he stepped away from the belt and called her back.

“Thank God,” Nina said. “I was giving you another ten minutes before I called Emma. You can’t send me an email like that and then disappear halfway across the country.”

“I’ve been on a plane. I told you I would be.”

“You told me you were going away. You neglected the part about where.” He heard a door close at her end. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “Are you all right?”

He watched a little boy make a grab for a passing suitcase. The boy’s mother caught his wrist and drew him back. “I’m tired, Nina. I wanted a few weeks without anyone asking me to decide something.”

“I understand that. I do. But they’ve come back with eight episodes and a directing credit. Before we put the whole thing aside, I need you to hear what they’re offering.”

His suitcase emerged behind a purple duffel. He had bought it in Milan during a film that had briefly threatened to end his career. The suitcase had held up better. He pulled it off the belt and extended the handle. “The number of episodes wasn’t the problem. I don’t want to play him again.”

“It’s a good part. People still love that show.”

“So do I. I spent eleven years making it.”

“Which is why this could work. The scripts acknowledge his age. Nobody is asking you to jump across rooftops.”

“They’ll give that to someone younger. I’ll stand beside the body and make the same observation I made in 2006.”

Nina laughed reluctantly. He pictured her at her desk, one hand resting on the contract, unwilling to concede that it might stay unsigned.

“Just promise me you won’t make a final decision while you’re feeling like this.”

He had known she would get there eventually. Since his mother’s death, any unwelcome decision could be attributed to grief. He was grieving. He was also fifty-two and capable of recognizing a job he did not want. “I’m going to take a vacation,” he said. “We can talk when I’ve had a little time.”

That was less definite than he intended. He knew Nina would hear an opening. He lacked the energy to close it.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Florida.”

“Florida is enormous. Can you narrow it down enough that I could locate you in an emergency?”

“I’ll send you the number I’m using. The children already have it.”

She paused. “And you’ll answer?”

“Yes. Although I’d appreciate it if the emergency involved something other than a producer.”

“I make no promises about what people will do while you’re away. Call me in a few days, please.”

He told her he would and ended the call.

There’s more waiting in Belleweather.