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From New York Times bestselling author Joanne DeMaio comes a riveting love story set in a quaint New England town.
Amy Trewist couldn't ask for more than her simple life in Addison, Connecticut. From her old farmhouse, to her best friend living in the bungalow next door, to the big red barn at the end of the road, to her small shop across from the town green, what else could she want?
Quite simply, she wants it back. Because while running errands early one morning, a sudden, unexpected encounter threatens all Amy holds dear. When she crosses paths with a stranger, her cherished life seems as fleeting as the sparkling droplets spraying from the town's stone wishing fountain.
But as destiny would have it, a dinner with the reluctant man who came into her life that day changes everything. A secluded beach cottage and love song dedications and dances beneath the starlight slowly lead her back to happiness. And when destiny runs its course, a stunning twist will have Amy finally find the silver lining within one dark summer cloud.
anything.” She leans over and gives Amy a hug. “Take care of yourself. And talk to George, you hear me?” Amy steps out of the car as the gray sky begins to mist. Home, home, home, never has it taken so long to get home. She holds the shawl aloft over her head and hurries toward her front porch. * * * Every time the bell at the door rings, George sets down the carving knife, stops laying out a platter of chicken cutlets or filling a tray of ground beef, his fingers hovering over the fresh meat,
“It may or may not have been illuminated. I really don’t remember.” “Nothing comes to mind? An interior seat color? A person’s hair as they set the girl out? A fabric of clothing, a sleeve maybe?” George knows damn well exactly who sat in the car, what they were wearing, what they looked like. He also knows damn well that he can straight-up confess right here, right now. He considers the detective waiting, pen poised. “No. Nothing,” he answers. “Do you have a suspect in mind?” “Just doing a
did this or go to the authorities and put a real quick end to all of it.” “Cool down.” Nate catches up with him. “Go to the authorities and this gets worse. Don’t worry about Reid. I’ll help you keep an eye out and we’ll take care of this together.” They turn left at row V-3 and George points out where Amy said she had parked. In the photo, it all matches up. Someone moved her SUV, played with her head and then caught her at her absolute weakest. They walk to Amy’s space and stand there,
clasped hands. He hears that the priest’s voice is not young and hears the rustle of black fabric as he brings an arm up and leans his forehead on his closed hand. “Father. Before I begin this, I need to ask you a question. I’m not really sure how to ask, but what I need to know is what your obligation is in hearing confessions.” “As a confessor,” the priest slowly begins, “I am bound to be both a judge and healer. So my obligation works in two ways, devoted both to the salvation of souls as
Since you’re thinking about self-protection, consider the circumstances under which you might discharge it. In a violent confrontation, you won’t be cool, calm and collected. Stress and fear screw up your motor skills and it’s damn easy to fumble with too many controls.” “Well. There are more controls on some of these than on my microwave. What do they all do?” Bob’s hands move in sync with his words, pointing out the various knobs and levers and slides. “You’ve got a magazine release, slide