Evelyn Quinn has rules—short words scribbled on a fridge list between school runs, burnt toast, and the kind of laughter that turns a flat into a heartbeat. She writes heroines who don't spill their coffee. She is not one of them.

Callum Dorn makes pictures that hold. An illustrator with soft hands and stubborn shoulders, he's the man who shows up—with scissors, snacks, and the steady kind of care that doesn't ask to be filmed. He doesn't rescue Evelyn. He joins her: kids, chaos, foxes in the bins, and all.

When a dangerous ghost from Evelyn's past tests the edges of their new family, love becomes practical: court orders on the fridge, numbers taped inside a cupboard, neighbours on knock-codes, a social worker who prefers checklists to pity. Callum's proposal isn't a fortress; it's a promise he already keeps—every bedtime story, every school gate, every ordinary morning made safe.

From foggy ferry days to school science nights, from community kitchen shifts to a gala that tries to measure worth in pearls, Drawn to Us is a romance about choosing each other on purpose and in public. It's tea at all junctions, found family that bites back (politely), aunties with sequins and rage, and children who say the true thing into a microphone and change the room.

Evelyn doesn't need a legacy. She needs a life that fits: chair-leg boundaries, consequence with kindness, and someone who will hold her coat while she burns the rest. Callum doesn't want a dynasty; he wants us—the messy domestic plot where a returning bird is news, pasta is a peace treaty, and safety is a daily verb.

For readers of heartfelt, upmarket contemporary romance and women's fiction—Irish at the edges, tender to the core—this novel is consent-forward, kid-first, and gloriously human. Come for the banter and the bench kisses; stay for the kitchen-table vows, the community that refuses to look away, and the love that redraws every line.

Content note: Includes brief references to domestic abuse and sexual assault (non-graphic; depicted with care).

Perfect for fans of: found-family romances, protective cinnamon-roll heroes, smart single-mum heroines, and stories where the small systems save the day—and the heart gets to rest.