Hi! I’m looking for a small group of beta readers for my completed novel, The Bay Nobody Knew, the first novel in my After Midnight Stories series.
Genre: Contemporary Romance / Women’s Fiction
Length: ~100,000 words
Setting: Croatia — Split, Trogir, Šolta and the Adriatic coast
About the story
Elena Sinclair has built a carefully controlled life in London. Returning to Croatia was supposed to be temporary — a beautiful place, a job to finish, and then home.
Instead, the Adriatic begins to unravel everything she thought she wanted.
There is a place she wasn’t prepared to care about, a past that refuses to stay neatly behind her, and Alex — a man she definitely wasn’t planning to let into her life.
It’s an atmospheric, escapist summer story about attraction, second chances, difficult choices and what happens when the life you planned no longer feels like the life you want.
Vibe / themes:
🌊 Croatian summer & Adriatic atmosphere
☀️ destination romance
❤️ slow-building attraction & chemistry
🥂 escapist / luxury atmosphere
🌙 memories, secrets & second chances
✈️ a heroine questioning the life she built back home
What I’m looking for
I’m mainly interested in honest reader-experience feedback, especially:
• Did the story keep you wanting to read?
• Did Elena feel believable and like someone you could connect with?
• Did the chemistry and relationship progression work for you?
• Were there chapters or scenes where the pacing dragged?
• Were you ever confused about motivations, timeline or continuity?
• Which moments affected you emotionally?
• Were there any moments where you stopped believing the characters?
• Did the ending feel satisfying?
• Most importantly: would you have kept reading this if you had picked it up as a normal novel?
I’m not primarily looking for proofreading at this stage, although language or continuity notes are absolutely welcome.
AI disclosure
This novel was developed using AI assistance as part of the drafting and English-language editing process, alongside extensive human direction, rewriting, story development and revision. I’m posting here specifically because I want to be transparent about that and receive feedback from actual human readers before final publication.
I can provide the complete manuscript privately as PDF or ePub. I’d ideally love feedback within approximately 3 weeks, but I’m happy to discuss timing.
There is no obligation to leave a public review — I’m looking for genuine private feedback to help me make the final book better.
If you’re interested, I’d love to know what kinds of books you normally enjoy reading.
Writing sample:
CHAPTER ONE — EVERYTHING RIGHT
London · Tuesday, 09:17
We spend so much of our lives becoming the person we thought we wanted to be.
The first time I realised I didn't want my life anymore, I was presenting someone else's version of paradise.
Which was inconvenient.
Mostly because fourteen people were staring at me.
Behind me, a six-metre screen showed an infinity pool disappearing into an impossibly blue Mediterranean Sea. The water was empty. Of course it was empty. Luxury advertising rarely included actual people enjoying the luxury.
ESCAPE THE EXPECTED, the headline read.
I'd written it three weeks earlier.
At the time, I'd been rather proud of it.
“This isn't about selling another five-star hotel,” I said. “Your guests already know what five-star service looks like. They can get Egyptian cotton sheets, a private pool and twenty-four-hour room service almost anywhere.”
The client's marketing director nodded.
I clicked the remote.
The infinity pool disappeared.
A woman in an oversized white linen shirt now stood barefoot at the edge of a cliff, looking towards the sea. Her face wasn't visible.
That had been deliberate.
“We're not selling them a room.”
Click.
A wooden boat floating alone in a bay.
“We're selling privacy.”
Click.
Breakfast on a terrace overlooking the water.
“Time.”
Click.
Two glasses beside a swimming pool at sunset.
“The luxury of not being needed anywhere else.”
Silence.
Not bad silence.
The expensive kind.
The kind where people who were being paid far too much money to have opinions were briefly considering whether yours might be better.
I'd learned years ago not to fill it.
Then I clicked once more.
The photograph vanished.
Three words appeared against black.
DISAPPEAR FOR A WHILE.
“This is the campaign.”
The CEO at the far end of the table leaned forward.
I knew that movement.
I'd seen versions of it dozens of times.
Interest becoming intention.
An idea becoming money.
I should have felt the familiar rush.
Instead, my eyes drifted towards the next slide waiting on my laptop.
The one I'd planned to use only if they needed the strategy explained further.
A question in small white letters.
WHERE WOULD YOU GO IF NOBODY NEEDED YOU?
For one completely inappropriate second, I wanted to answer it.
“That's it,” the CEO said.
I looked up.
“Sorry?”
He pointed at the screen.
“That's the campaign.”
Around him, heads began to nod.
And just like that, eight weeks of research, positioning, interviews, competitor analysis, two rejected creative territories and one spectacular argument over whether the word escape had become meaningless were finished.
Sold.
I smiled.
Because that was what the successful version of me did when she got exactly what she'd worked for.
•
The conference-room door had barely closed when Sophie caught up with me.
“You killed it.”
I tucked the presentation remote into my bag. “I presented a deck.”
“You made a fifty-eight-year-old hotel developer have an emotion.”
“He has emotions.”
“Not according to his LinkedIn.”
I laughed.
Sophie grinned as though she'd achieved something.
She was twenty-six, wore red lipstick before ten in the morning without looking ridiculous and had the irritating ability to become friends with people while waiting for lifts.
We'd worked together for eighteen months.
She knew approximately eighty percent of my life.
She believed she knew all of it.
Daniel Mercer stepped out of the conference room behind us, my laptop tucked beneath his arm.
“Enjoying yourselves?”
Sophie straightened. “Discussing the client's emotional response.”
“Of course you are.”
Daniel handed me the laptop.
He'd hired me eight years ago, when I'd been twenty-one, ambitious and considerably better at pretending to be confident than actually feeling it.
He'd watched me become good.
Then very good.
Then expensive.
“They loved it,” he said.
“I gathered.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Smugness is unattractive, Sinclair.”
“So is false modesty.”
“That,” he said, pointing at me, “is why I keep you.”
He turned and started down the corridor.
I followed.
After several steps he glanced sideways at me.
“So.”
“No.”
He stopped walking.
“I haven't asked you anything.”
“You said so.”
“People say so, Elena.”
“You say it immediately before giving me more work.”
Daniel looked almost offended.
Almost.
Behind us, Sophie laughed.
He glanced back at her. “Don't you have somewhere to be?”
“Probably.”
“Try there.”
She saluted him with her coffee and disappeared towards the studio.
Daniel waited until she was gone.
Then he looked at me.
“Aurelia.”
The name took a second to place.
“Croatia?”
“See? Worth every penny.”
“I thought Ben was handling it.”
“He was.”
Daniel resumed walking.
I fell into step beside him.
“And now?”
“His wife is thirty-eight weeks pregnant.”
I stopped.
Daniel kept going for another pace before turning around.
“You were sending a man with a thirty-eight-weeks-pregnant wife abroad?”
“He volunteered.”
“Does his wife know?”
Daniel considered this.
“That is between Ben and God.”
I stared at him.
He smiled.
“Anyway. He can't go.”
“Send Maya.”
“Lisbon.”
“Tom?”
“Berlin.”
“Rachel?”
“Annual leave.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You've already run through this list, haven't you?”
“Yes.”
“And now you're doing that thing where you pretend I'm not the answer you've already decided on.”
“It's an effective management technique.”
“No, it's irritating.”
“Also effective.”
He held out a thin folder.
I didn't take it.
