This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Sharon will be awarding a $25 Amazon Gift card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Sophie Shaw is days away from signing a contract that will fulfill her dream of owning a vineyard. For her, it’s a chance to restart her life and put past tragedies to rest. But Duncan Jamieson’s counter offer blows hers out to sea.
Duncan still finds Sophie as appealing as he had during boyhood vacations to the lake. Older and wiser now, he has his own reasons for wanting the land. His offer, however, hinges on a zoning change approval.
Bribery rumors threaten the deal and make Sophie wary of Duncan, yet she cannot deny his appeal. When her journalistic research uncovers a Jamieson family secret, trust becomes the hardest lesson for them both.
"Heart-tugging small town romance with real emotion. Struth is an author to watch!"
—Laura Drake, author of RITA-award winning The Sweet Spot
"Superb… throw in a hunky dad, a small town and a savvy heroine who gets the job done and you've got me hooked!"
—Rachel Brimble, author of A Man like Him
Enjoy an excerpt:
Air whooshed from Sophie’s lungs. Pain coursed through her shoulder blades, neck, and spine. The ground’s chilly dampness seeped into her cotton khaki pants, raising goose bumps on her skin. Seconds passed without breath before she managed to swallow a gulp.
Lying flat on her back, she stared at the cornflower blue sky and spotted a chalky slice of the moon. The night Henry died, a similar crescent had hung from the heavens, barely visible nestled among the glittering stars. She prepared for the scrape that threatened to tear the gouge of her scarred heart. Seven years. Seven painful years. She closed her eyes and after a few seconds, the weight of sadness lifted off her chest.
Tears gathered along her lower lashes. She pushed a strand of unruly long hair from her face. Footsteps crunched on the ice pellets and headed her way.
“Matthew Shaw…” Fury pooled in her jaw as she resisted the urge to yell at her son. “You’d better have a good excuse for taking so long.”
A man with cinnamon hair, short on the sides with gentle waves on top, knelt at her side. She studied the strong outline of his cheeks and the slight bump on the bridge of his angular nose that gave him a rugged touch, but he wasn’t familiar.
“Are you okay?” He searched her face.
The stranger hovered above. Tall treetops, clinging to the last of their earth-toned foliage, served as a backdrop to her view. A vertical crease separated his sandy brows.
She couldn’t pry herself from his vivid blue eyes, in part stunned from the fall, but also by her first responder.
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