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Single mom Heather Donovan's dreams of home and family are tantalizingly within reach when she settles in Chesapeake Shores. The welcoming arms of the boisterous, loving O'Brien clan embrace her and her son. But accepting their support seems to further alienate her son's father, Connor O'Brien. His parents' divorce and his career as a high-powered divorce attorney have left him jaded about marriage.

Then everything changes. Will the possibility of a future without Heather make Connor look at love and his career differently? Heather's just about given up on her old dreams—of love, of family and especially of Driftwood Cottage, the home she secretly wishes were hers. It's going to take a lot of persuasion—and some help from the O'Brien family—to make Heather believe that some dreams are worth fighting for.

• Sales Rank: #17098 in Books
• Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2011-03-29
• Released on: 2011-03-29
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .99" w x 4.21" l, .45 pounds
• Binding: Paperback
• 376 pages

Features

• Great product!

About the Author

With her roots firmly planted in the South, Sherryl Woods has written many of her more than 100 books in that distinctive setting, whether in her home state of Virginia, her adopted state, Florida, or her much-adored South Carolina. Sherryl is best known for her ability to creating endearing small town communities and families. She is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over 75 romances for Silhouette Desire and Special Edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Heather Donovan propped open the front door and stood just inside the brightly lit storefront in Chesapeake Shores so she could inhale the scent of sea air from the bay across Shore Road. Turning slowly, she studied the stacks of colorful fabric bolts that had to be sorted and displayed, the unopened boxes of quilting supplies and the quilt racks that still required assembly. Her pride and joy, the carefully crafted shelving units, had been built to her specifications by her son's grandfather, famed architect Mick O'Brien, for whom her son, little Mick, was named.

Seeing it all coming together was a little overwhelming. Not just opening a business, but all of it—moving to this quaint town, deciding to raise her son on her own, giving up on a future with Connor O'Brien—these were all huge steps. Her mind still reeled when she thought about the recent changes in her life. She might embrace the changes, but that didn't mean she wasn't scared to death.

If anyone had told her a few months ago that she would leave the man she loved more than anything, that she would take their son and move from Baltimore to a small seaside town and embark on a whole new career, Heather would have laughed at the absurdity of the predictions. Even though Connor stubbornly had refused to consider marriage, she'd thought they had a good life, that they were committed to one another. She'd believed that so strongly that she'd ignored her parents'—actually it had been mostly her mother's—warnings about the mistake she was making by having a child with Connor without a ring on her finger.

But, in fact, they—she, Connor and their son—might have gone on exactly like that for years if she hadn't seen how Connor's career as a divorce lawyer was chipping away at their relationship, how his anger at his parents was corrupting their day-to-day lives. She didn't like the embittered man she'd seen him becoming, and he seemed to have no desire to change.

It wasn't as if she'd made her decision to break up lightly. She'd gone away for several weeks, leaving their son with Connor's family while she'd pondered what was best for her future and for her child's. She hadn't been happy about the conclusion she'd reached, that she needed to start a new life on her own, but she'd made peace with it. And, in time, she knew she'd find the fulfillment that had eluded her with Connor.

Not that she could envision a day when she'd stop loving him, she thought even now, months after making the decision. She sighed at how difficult it sometimes was to reconcile emotions with common sense and facing reality, especially with a precious little boy as a constant reminder of what she'd given up.

A bell over the shop's front door tinkled merrily, interrupting her thoughts. Megan O'Brien stepped inside, carrying her grandson who beamed at the sight of Heather.

"Mama!" he cried, holding out his chubby little arms. Just over a year old now, he was the joy of Heather's life.

"He was missing you," Megan explained, then gave her a commiserating look. "And I thought you might be needing a glimpse of him about now. I know you're still not over all those weeks the two of you spent apart."

"Thank you," Heather said, reaching for her son.

"Feeling overwhelmed?" Megan asked with the kind of insight that Heather had come to treasure.

So many times in the past few months she'd regretted that Megan wouldn't be her mother-in-law. In many ways Heather felt closer to Connor's mother than she did to her own mother back in Ohio. A wonderful salt-of-the-earth woman who went to church on Sundays, volunteered at a homeless shelter and in a children's hospital, Bridget Donovan had an endless store of compassion for everyone except her own daughter. She flatly refused to accept that any daughter of hers would willingly choose not to marry the father of her child.

Heather sighed. As if marriage to Connor had ever been an option, no matter how desperately she might have hoped for it.

Heather bounced baby Mick in her arms as she nodded in response to Megan's question. "You're right about feeling overwhelmed," she said, gesturing around the store. "I have no idea where to start. What if opening a shop, especially here, is a huge mistake? I don't know anything about running a business. And being here, in this town, surrounded by O'Briens, what was I thinking? Why on earth did I let you talk me into this?"

"Because you knew it was a brilliant idea," Megan said at once, obviously still pleased with herself for coming up with this solution for Heather's future.

"Still, doubts are understandable," she consoled Heather. "You've made a lot of changes recently. All good ones, I think. As for starting your own business, this is a natural fit for you. The minute I saw those handmade quilts of yours, I knew it. You do absolutely beautiful work. Everyone in town is going to want to own one of your quilts or have you teach them how to make their own."

Megan fingered a small folk art quilt of a bay scene as she spoke. "This one, for instance, is a treasure. How can you bear to part with it? And at this price? It needs to cost twice as much."

"The price is fine. I was just experimenting," Heather said modestly, still astonished that anyone thought her hobby could turn into a thriving business. She had always enjoyed quilting, and it had filled the quiet evenings while Connor studied. She'd never envisioned it as anything more than a hobby.

In fact, her college degree had been in literature. She'd never quite figured out what to do with that besides teach. After two years in an out-of-control Baltimore high school classroom, she'd gratefully quit when she'd become pregnant with Connor's baby.

She gestured to the quilt Megan was admiring. "If you aren't just saying that to calm me down, if you really like it, I'll make one for you."

Megan's eyes brightened. "I'd love it, but I will pay you for it, and I swear I'm going to talk you into doubling the price."

"Absolutely not."

"Well, that's what I'm paying," Megan countered just as stubbornly. "You've a business to run, after all."

Heather sighed. "Starting a business is just one of my concerns these days," she admitted. "What about moving out on Connor? Was that the right decision, Megan?" She couldn't seem to keep a wistful note out of her voice.

"Even that," Megan assured her. "My son is stubborn, and you've given him exactly the wake-up call he needed." She patted Heather's hand. "He loves you. Just tuck that knowledge away. He'll come around if you're patient."

"For how long?" Heather asked. "We met our freshman year in college, dated for four years, moved in together when he was in law school. When I found out I was pregnant, I was so sure we'd get married, especially when he encouraged me to quit my job to be a full-time mom. I was certain we were finally going to be a real family, the kind I'd always wanted. He even said that's what he wanted, too, just without a marriage license."

She waved off her regrets. "I should have known better than to expect him to change his mind. Connor always told me he had no intention of ever marrying, that he didn't believe in marriage. It's not as if I didn't understand the rules from the very beginning."

"People don't make rules about things like that," Megan said dismissively. "They just let the past control the future. In Connor's case, his attitude is all because of what happened between his father and me. Now that Mick and I have remarried and started over, I'm convinced Connor will see that love can endure all kinds of trials, including divorce."

Heather smiled at her optimism. "Have you met Connor? He's stubborn as a mule. Once he gets an idea into his head, he won't let go of it. And look how long it's been since I moved out. It was last Thanksgiving when I left to think things over, January when I officially left him. It'll be Easter soon, and he still hasn't shown any signs of changing his mind. He may not be entirely happy that I'm gone, but he's not doing anything at all to change the situation."

Megan grinned. "I'm married to a man just like that, his father. Believe me, there are ways of getting through to their hard heads." She glanced pointedly at the boy in Heather's arms. "And you've your ace in the hole right there. Connor adores his son."

Heather shook her head. "A couple can't build a future around a child. It's not fair. My parents did that. They stayed in a miserable marriage because of me. They thought it would be best, but it wasn't. The tension was unbearable. I won't have that for my son."

"I'm not suggesting that you be together for your child, only that he'll keep you in Connor's orbit while he gets his feet back under him and realizes how much he loves you both. Having you with him was entirely too comfortable. He had it all his own way. The stance you've taken is the smart one. Eventually he'll realize what he needs to do to have the two of you back again."

"I hope you're right," Heather admitted, though she wasn't counting on it. In fact, if things didn't work out with Connor, it could make her decision to move to Chesapeake Shores where she'd be surrounded by his family the worst one she'd made in years. The O'Briens might provide an enviable support system, but she'd be reminded of what could have been every minute of every day.

"Of course I'm right," Megan said confidently. "Now tell me what I can do to help you get organized in here. Do you have a system?"

Even to her own ears, Heather's laugh had an edge of hysteria about it. "If only," she said, glancing around at the chaos. She regarded Megan hopefully. "Are you sure you have some time to spare?"

"Of course I do. At Mick's insistence, I've hired a very competent assistant at the gallery, and things are under control. In the meantime, I'll let her know I'll be right next door if she needs me," she said, flipping open her cell phone. When she'd made the call, she told Heather, "Now, just put me to work."

Heather didn't hesitate. "If you could start opening those boxes, I could begin sorting the fabric for the displays," she suggested, settling Mick into the playpen she'd already set up in a corner. He uttered an immediate howl of protest, then spotted one of his favorite toys and was quickly absorbed with that.

Heather and Megan worked in companionable silence for a while before Megan inquired, "Have you told Connor about the shop yet? He didn't mention it last time we spoke and I certainly didn't want to be the one to fill him in."

Heather stiffened. "It hasn't come up. Truthfully, we barely exchange a dozen words when I drop Mick off to spend the day with him. I haven't even told him I've moved here. He reaches me on my cell phone when he needs to, so it's not as if it really matters where I've settled. I suppose if I'd run off to California, he might have a legitimate complaint, but I'm barely an hour away. Nothing's changed in terms of his schedule to see little Mick."

Megan looked distressed by her response. "Oh, Heather, you need to tell him," she said. "And you need to do it before he comes home for a visit and discovers it for himself or before someone else in the family blabs. He'll be furious that you've kept it from him."

Heather shrugged. "It'll just be one more thing to add to the list. He's already angry that I refused to move back in. To be honest, he wasn't all that happy when I insisted on keeping little Mick with me after I'd left him here with you while I was trying to sort through things and get my head on straight. He apparently thought the arrangement was going to be permanent."

"There's no question that he liked having the baby here with him and the rest of the family," Megan acknowledged. "We all did. But I think everyone except Connor understood it was only temporary."

Heather regarded her with sorrow. "Sometimes I think I'm destined to keep making things worse between Connor and me. If we talk at all, we're at odds over everything."

Megan smiled at that. "It's only awkward right now because you won't give him what he wants—an unconditional commitment that doesn't include marriage. He has to learn that he can't always have things on his own terms."

"But aren't I doing the same thing, expecting to have things on my terms?" Heather asked.

Megan regarded her thoughtfully. "I suppose that's true. Maybe it's just because I think you're the one who's right that I'm not blaming any of this standoff on you. I think two people who love each other and have a child together ought to at least try marriage, that they ought to be fighting to make it work."

She sighed. "Goodness knows, I spent years trying to make things work with Mick before I took the drastic step of leaving. Even in hindsight, I don't think I had a choice by then, though I know I should have handled things differently and much better where all of our children were concerned. I still regret that, and I'd never have forgiven myself if I'd simply run at the first sign of trouble, rather than leaving as a last resort."

Heather grinned at her. "But here you are, together again. Happy endings still happen. Why can't Connor see that, especially when it's right in front of his face?"

"I fear it's because he doesn't have a romantic bone in his body," Megan replied sorrowfully. "He's become cynical when it comes to love. Mick and I did that to him, and that job of his—dealing with bitter divorces every single day—has reaffirmed his jaded views."

"Then what makes you think he'll ever come around?" Heather asked.

"Because I am a romantic," Megan said, smiling. "I believe in the power of love. And I know how deeply he cares about the people he has let into his heart—his sisters and his brother, his grandmother, even Mick when they're not battling over one thing or another."

"I saw that side of him, too, or thought I did," Heather said softly, though her voice lacked the conviction of Megan's.

"Then don't give up on Connor," Megan advised. "He'll find his way back to you. I believe that, too."

Most helpful customer reviews

54 of 63 people found the following review helpful.
Same Old Boring Argument
By Caitlin Arner
I love novels in which people restore lovely beachfront cottages. I enjoy novels with interesting sub-plots that weave around the main theme of the book. But in this book I got the following:
Chapter one: Same old boring argument about marriage.
Chapter two: Same old boring argument about marriage.
Chapter three: Same old boring argument about marriage with annoying family manipulations thrown in.
Chapter four: Same old boring argument, same old family manipulations, bad pop psychology to explain the fact that the characters are caught in the same old boring argument.
Chapter five through fifteen: boring argument continues, family manipulations continue, very little interesting dialogue. Help!
Chapter sixteen: Typical bad plot car accident. Guy realizes he loves woman. But she, despite her accident, is still caught in dysfunctional boring argument loop and refuses. Arrrrggghhhhh!
Chapter nineteen: Lovely cottage of title finally appears. But book is almost over and readers are too burnt out to care.
Chapter twenty to twenty-two: Fights over the cottage now replace the boring marital argument.
Epilogue: Finally these narcissicistic ill-prepared people decide to take the plunge. Do I care anymore??? NO!
My suggestion: Save your money.

17 of 20 people found the following review helpful.
I enjoyed it.
By A Martin
It was a story just waitng to happen after the last Chesapeake Shores book. Even though the pace was slow, that's the way some of us work through our own reservations & challenges -- so this installment was more like a nice, quiet convervation instead of an edge of your seat thriller. But the lively reappearance of familiar characters who are clearly enjoying the everyday pleasures of "happily ever after" made Driftwood Cottage a good visit that left me smiling and relaxed...just like you might feel after sitting in the breeze off the Chesapeake. I'm looking forward to the next visit to Chesapeake Shores!
A D Martin

13 of 15 people found the following review helpful.
Coasting on Previous Successes
By RJS
While definitely not great literature I have enjoyed the previous books in the series when I needed some light reading to escape with and I was looking forward to being pulled into the lives of the characters. Unfortunately although I was excited when it was released I ended up being really disappointed with this book. First of all, this book was so predictable that it hit you in the head with all of the connections,future connections and events. Second, it was boring- the predictability meant that there were no unexpected turns and I found myself falling asleep after reading a few pages. Honestly, I think the author had success with her earlier books and is coasting on that success. This series reminds me of television shows that don't know when to stop and end up leaving a bad taste in your mouth, even though the beginning was quite good. She should have quit while she was ahead.

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With fugitive parents, a brother dodging loan sharks, a hunky cop who's made her outlaw family his business, and her ex-fiancé back in the picture, Carlotta Wren thought her life couldn't get any more complicated. And then…

Her fugitive parents phone home.

Her identity is stolen by a look-alike.

Her look-alike is found, well…dead.

Under suspicion for murder, Carlotta discovers that her devious double might have been bumped off accidentally—and that she could be the real target! Throw in dealing with her motley crew of family, friends and wannabe lovers, and Carlotta begins to think that jail isn't such a bad alternative after all….

• Sales Rank: #106038 in Books
• Published on: 2007-07-17
• Released on: 2007-07-17
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 8.00" h x .87" w x 5.13" l,
• Binding: Paperback
• 345 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. Bond's charming new Carlotta Wren mystery (after 2006's Body Movers) has all the ingredients for a chic sleuth-a-thon, from identity theft and designer clothes to dead bodies and poker. Rich girl–turned–Neiman's shop girl Carlotta was left at 18 to raise her 10-year-old brother, Wesley, after their parents, Randolph and Valerie, skipped town to avoid investment fraud charges. Ten years later, snarky Atlanta DA Kelvin Lucas has reopened the case. Grouchy love interest Det. Jack Terry wants information that Carlotta's afraid to divulge. Randolph makes a mysterious call to Carlotta and also gets in touch with Peter Ashford, her attentive ex-fiancé. Wesley, an oddly likable slacker and compulsive gambler, believes in their dad's innocence, but Carlotta's not so sure. When a woman with Carlotta's car and I.D. apparently kills herself, Lucas requests a fake funeral to lure her parents back. Bond keeps the pace frantic, the plot tight and the laughs light, and supplies a cliffhanger ending that's a bargain at twice the price. (Aug.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Review
"What a great book! I'm really glad my wife made me read it." -- Stephanie's husband

About the Author
See Stephanie's Amazon Author Page:  amazon.com/author/stephaniebond

Most helpful customer reviews

50 of 52 people found the following review helpful.
Under Its Spell
By Sonja Foust
I was under the spell of IN DEEP VOODOO by about page 5. The setting immediately drew me in, and the characters and storyline soon after. At first, I was afraid that there were too many characters to keep them all straight, but everything added up in the end in a satisfying, if darker-than-expected conclusion. The most confusing part of the book, for me, was the tone. Lots of light humor inter-mixed with some pretty dark stuff, like a murder and a grisley conclusion. Still, I enjoyed reading it very much and will probably read the next in the series too!

37 of 39 people found the following review helpful.
FANTASTIC BOOK
By TSpartywithAD
I love this book. I first read it when I was a teenager, and I always thought it would make a great movie. I bought it again because I lent out my copy and never got it back and I read it again, and it was like meeting the characters for the first time. It is fun and fast and exciting and sexy and sweet. But it's also a murder mystery, so there is a little something for everyone.

64 of 74 people found the following review helpful.
Very Disappointed.
By L.B.
As a fellow mystery writer, I hesitate to write this review, especially because I really enjoyed the first half of this book. But I was profoundly disappointed in the ending. Half way through, it became clear this was a romance novel dressed up as a mystery, complete with pretty explicit sex scenes that pulled me right out of the story. The proof was in the ending. The author breezes right past the resolution of the crime, and then glosses over an even more horrendous crime than the one which fueled the entire book. The villain(s) are just dumped into the ending and/or not identified at all, but sure enough, the romance is wrapped up with a neat little bow. I believe that when you spend more than two-thirds of a book building up to a big ending, you need to deliver. Too bad. I thought I was going to love this book.

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Writer Cari North thought she knew all there was to know about plot twists—until she stumbled across her ex-fiancé, Lance Morgan, digging a shallow grave in the Louisiana woods. After one horrifying moment of shared recognition, Cari knew her life hinged upon whether she could outrun Lance and the hurricane-spawned tornado that was barreling down on their heels.

Just when she thinks she's lost Lance and heads for home, the storm throws in yet another twist that will change her fate—forever.

Cari's house, her family—her entire life—have been wiped out by the storm. Badly injured herself, and knowing Lance will come after her, she trades clothing and ID with the near-identical cousin who'd been visiting and flees to Baton Rouge. While the world mourns Cari North, she begins an agonizing recovery as her cousin Susan—until Susan's boss calls her bluff and finds himself drawn into her incredible tale.

Hunted by a man she once loved, sheltered by a man she hardly knows, Cari chooses to become the bait…and plots the twist of a lifetime to catch a killer.

• Sales Rank: #786576 in Books
• Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2010-05-25
• Released on: 2010-05-25
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .98" w x 4.21" l, .10 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 368 pages

Features

• Great product!

About the Author

Sharon Sala is a native of Oklahoma and a member of Romance Writers of America.  She is a NYT, USA Today, Publisher's Weekly, WaldenBooks mass market, Bestselling author of 85 plus books written as Sharon Sala and Dinah McCall.  She's a 7 time RITA finalist, Janet Dailey Award winner, 5 time National Reader's Choice Award winner, 4 time Career Achievement Award from RT Magazine, 4 time winner of Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Sweat poured from Lance Morgan's hairline, despite the rising wind, as he continued to dig deep into the loamy earth in the woods outside of Bordelaise, Louisiana. Austin Ball's rental car, the car he'd used to get here, was just a few feet away. Lance wouldn't look at the body, rolled up in the rug behind him, which he intended to bury, or think about the fact that his great-great-great-grandmother had saved that very rug from the Yankees during the War of Northern Aggression. What he'd done, he couldn't take back, which was a metaphor for his life. It was what he'd done to begin with that had gotten him into this mess.

He stabbed the shovel back into the Louisiana loam, scooped out yet another shovelful of dirt and threw it on top of the growing pile as he thought back over the mistake he'd made that had brought him to this end.

Borrowing money from a Chicago loan shark like Dominic Martinelli and using the family estate, Morgan's Reach, as collateral had been risky. It had been in the Morgan family for over two hundred years, and being responsible for losing it was simply not a possibility. He couldn't be known as the Morgan who'd squandered the family estate.

At first he'd had no trouble meeting his payments, and then weather and bad crop prices had combined, and he'd started falling behind on payments. He'd made excuses, sent e-mails promising money that never arrived. Before he knew it, he was six months in arrears.

Yesterday, when he'd received a phone call from Austin Ball, of Meacham and Ball, Esquire, who represented Martinelli, informing Lance that he was bringing some papers for him to sign, Lance had just assumed it was an extension on his outstanding loan.

He had prepared a lunch for two of Caesar salad, lobster rolls and some of his favorite brownies from a bakery in town. He'd even brought up a bottle of wine from the old wine cellar, and pulled out his mother's best china and crystal on which to serve the meal.

Ball had arrived on time, driving a black rental car, and sweating profusely beneath his gray worsted suit. Lance had taken some satisfaction in the lawyer's discomfort. Any fool worth his salt would have known not to wear wool in Louisiana during the month of September.

It wasn't until after the meal that Ball had announced Martinelli's intentions to foreclose and produced papers to that effect, instead of the ones Lance had expected.

Lance's disbelief had been palpable. Heart-thumping. Hand-sweating. Gut-wrenching. He'd presented a logical solution: more time. It had been rejected, with the failing economy as an excuse. That was when Lance begged. When that failed, he lost his mind.

The moment Ball turned his back to pick up his briefcase, Lance grabbed a baseball bat that had been hanging on the library wall since his high school days and hit the lawyer in the back of the head with the same fervor as when he'd hit the ball over the fence and sealed the county championship during his senior year of high school. That swing had ended the game. This one ended Ball's life. Austin Ball dropped without uttering a sound. Even though he was down, and very obviously dead, Lance continued to swing. By the time he got himself together, nearly every bone in Ball's body was broken, and blood was everywhere.

That was when panic hit.

He dropped the bat beside the body, rolled them up together into the rug on which Ball had dropped and dragged it out of the house and into the rental car Ball had driven out to his property.

Still in a state of hysteria, and fearing someone would drive up at any minute and catch him in such a bloody mess, he ran back inside and began cleaning up all the blood splatter. With one eye on the clock, he tore off all his clothing and threw it into the washing machine, then raced through the house to his bedroom naked and dressed again. Minutes later he was in the rental car, driving on a narrow, single-lane road that led into the woods behind the family home. He needed to hide the body, and though he'd never dug anything deeper than a hole to plant flower bulbs, he was about to dig his first grave.

Now here he was, almost an hour later, battling panic and regret. The palms of his hands were burning. He would definitely have blisters. His back was aching, and his heart was pounding so hard he feared he might have a heart attack and die in the grave he was digging for Austin Ball.

As a gust of wind swirled the loose leaves into an eddy, then sent them flying across the forest floor toward where he was digging, he glanced up at the sky. A storm predicted earlier in the day was almost upon him.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, and dug a little harder.

It was getting darker. The hurricane in the Gulf was going to miss them, but it had obviously stirred up some rough weather. He had to get Ball's body buried before it started to rain or, with Louisiana's loamy soil and an elevation barely above sea level, the damn thing was likely to float out. He jabbed the point of the shovel back into the earth. Just as he was about to throw out another scoop, he heard what sounded like a gasp, then a scream. The sound was so unexpected that he nearly died on the spot. He pivoted in panic, then stared in disbelief.

The hair rose on the back of Carolina North's neck as she rubbed her finger and thumb together, smearing the droplet that she'd found on the leaves of the forest floor. Her morning walk had just taken a startling turn.

It was blood!

She'd been seeing the small red spots for some time but thought them nothing more than autumn's natural colors. Now the bright red hue had taken on a more sinister meaning.

The next question had to be, was it animal or human?

At twenty-nine and a successful author, the mystery writer in her wanted to know the answer, and the only way she would find out was to follow the trail. She glanced up at the gathering clouds. From the look of the sky, they were in for some bad weather. The side winds from a hurricane were forecast to brush the Louisiana coast sometime today, although the brunt of the storm was predicted to go farther south and west, and hit Galveston, Texas. She was sorry for Galveston, but sincerely happy this one was going to miss them. Still, all kinds of storms could erupt from such turbulent weather. The smart thing to do would be to turn around and head for home before she got soaked, but her conscience wouldn't let her. It could be something as innocent as a hiker like herself who'd been injured and was now wandering the Louisiana woods and bayous in search of help. What kind of a person would she be if she ignored the possibility of helping someone?

She paused long enough to get her bearings, although she wasn't far from the home she shared with her aging parents. If she walked up on an injured animal, which could prove dangerous, she needed to know which way to run to safety.

With a touch of anxiety, Cari moved forward, although the wind from the storm front was getting stronger and the blood trail was almost gone. She was on the verge of turning around and making a run for home when she stumbled into a small clearing. It was a familiar place—a clearing in which she had played countless times as a child.

At first, all she saw was an unfamiliar black car. Then she took a couple of steps to the right and realized there was a man standing in a very deep hole and shoveling out dirt. Within seconds she recognized Lance. He was someone she'd grown up with—a man she'd once been engaged to until she'd caught him in bed with a stripper from Baton Rouge. She watched for a moment, noticing the frantic manner in which he was digging.

What on earth…?

Before she could call out and announce her presence, the wind gusted sharply, blowing back the corner of what she'd first taken to be a pile of rags. When she saw the face and shoulder of a man's bloody body suddenly revealed, she realized she'd found the source of the blood.

And then it hit her.

The man was dead. And the hole Lance was digging was a grave.

Before she thought, she screamed, and for a few, life-altering seconds, Cari had an out-of-body experience as she found herself staring into the eyes of a killer. That it was Lance Morgan, her closest neighbor and childhood friend, seemed impossible.

She heard him shout out her name, and when he started to climb out of the hole, instinct told her to run.

So she did.

Within the space of a heartbeat, she was gone—running toward home as fast as she could go, without looking back. The wind was at her heels now, pushing at her, urging her faster and faster. Leaves were being torn from the trees and swirling around her head in a blizzard of reds and yellows. The wind was rattling the limbs overhead so sharply she kept thinking she was being shot at. Once she stumbled and fell to her knees, but she quickly caught herself and sprang up. With one frantic look over her shoulder to make sure Lance wasn't on her heels, she bolted.

Desperate to notify the authorities before Lance caught her, she pulled out her cell phone as she ran, intent on calling 911, but she couldn't get a signal. Blaming the lowlands and the oncoming storm, she kept on running, praying for a miracle.

With each passing second, she imagined she could hear Lance's footsteps coming up behind her and feared that—at any moment—she would be caught and overpowered. When a strong gust of wind suddenly sent a dead limb flying from overhead to land on her heels, she pitched forward, certain that she'd been caught. Screaming and kicking, she rolled over on her back, unwilling to die without a fight, only to find herself doing battle with the limb, which had been caught in the hem of her jeans.

"God, help me," Cari muttered, and quickly kicked herself free.

She scrambled to her feet, desperate to get home, never thinking to check for her cell phone, which had slipped from her pocket as she fell.

Lance screamed Cari's name as he leaped out of the half-dug grave, then stumbled and fell over the body in the rug. Once again, Austin Ball had thrown a major kink in his plans. By the time he got up, Cari was out of sight. He dashed into the woods with the shovel in his hand, racing through the thickets and brambles without care or caution for his bare skin. He had to stop her. His life and Morgan's Reach depended on it. But it was with growing horror that he realized she had eluded him, and that she knew these woods as well as he did—maybe better.

Now he was faced with a dilemma. She would get the parish police, of that he was certain. He only had one chance out of this mess and that was to deny everything she said. Which meant he couldn't bury Ball's body here now because she would certainly bring back the authorities to look for it.

Cursing at the top of his lungs, he began running back to where he'd been digging. The wind was tearing at his clothing as he dashed into the clearing. To his horror, the rug had completely blown away from around Ball's body, and the sight of the man lying flat on his back in the middle of a blood-soaked family heirloom was horrifying.

In a panic, he began filling in the hole he'd just dug. The rain would wash away any loose soil and pack the dirt back down, so even if Cari brought the authorities here and dug again, there wouldn't be anything to find.

The first drops of rain were beginning to fall as he threw in the last of the dirt, then propped the shovel against the black rental car. Now that the hole was refilled, he still had to do something with the body. With shaking hands, he rolled the rug back around Ball's corpse, then hefted it over his shoulder and grabbed the shovel. He needed to find another place to hide what he'd done, but that meant going deeper into the forest—farther from his house—closer to the bayous. He didn't have time to get to the swamplands and use the gators as a method of getting rid of the body. He had to bury it.

But if he went farther, the car was going to be of no use.

With a muttered curse, he gritted his teeth and headed deeper into the woods, walking with his head down, sometimes staggering against the dead weight of Austin Ball's body and the prevailing winds.

But where to hide it so Cari and the cops couldn't find it? Where could he dig another grave that wouldn't be found? The answer didn't come until he passed a familiar landmark—an ancient cypress stump. His granddad used to tell stories of how the bayou had once come up this far, until they'd built levees and dikes around Bordelaise. The moment he saw the stump, he remembered what lay beyond. The fact that he suddenly had an answer to his problem made his load lighter and his steps easier.

Cari's legs were shaking from exertion and there was a pain in her side, but she couldn't stop. She had no way of knowing how close Lance was behind her, but she kept telling herself that it would all be okay as soon as she got home.

Most helpful customer reviews

5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Solid Sala Story!
By chb-book addict
I'm a complete Sala addict and this did not disappoint. The circumstances were over the top but the story was delivered in a completely believable way. Lance was very typical of the selfish, "all about me", person we've all met before.

I think Cari was great, not too independant but, thoughtful and a great planner. Loved Mike too he was just perfect! This was a great story and I enjoyed every minute, especially the china cabinet, just the touch to demonstrate how mercurical a tornado is. I'm looking forward to the sequels.

7 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
Blown Away..Excellent Story
By Tazlvr
This was an excellent book and also a 1st in the series called Storm Front and it's the 1st I've read by this author. The characters of Cari and Mike were easy to like and were very well written, like they were someone you knew. I was drawn into the story and felt like I was there and part of the North family. The description of the locale was vividly written, I could just picture the land and the horrible Tornado that hit Louisana.

This is a fast paced read. I read it in one day and can't wait for the next in the series, which is called Torn Apart. I highly recommed this book and look forward to the next book in the series. I hope this review helps those who are interested in reading this book. I will be reading this author again and can't wait for another adventure.

8 of 10 people found the following review helpful.
Good Reading!
By LAS Reviewer
Originally Posted at: [...].

Mind-numbing grief threatens to paralyze Carolina (Cari) North until fear sends adrenaline racing through her. With courage and survival-instinct taking over, she escapes in her dead cousin's car. When she regains consciousness, Mike Beaudreaux, her dead cousin's boss is glaring at her. She feels her world shift.

Not even her `best-seller-mystery-writer' brain could have envisioned situations like those she must deal with in the coming days.

Mike Beaudreaux's no-nonsense approach to life has made him a billionaire. However, dealing with Cari's situation redirects that approach from making money to shepherding her through the most horrific and terrifying time of her life. He emanates power, but his tender touch helps Cari preserve even when she feels like a lost child, with no roots or sense of direction. The fact she is a twenty-nine year old successful author doesn't assure her when her fragile composure threatens to crumble, but Mike's calling her "Tough Stuff" and his assurance gives her courage.

Sharon Sala superb development of the characters Cari, Mike, and the antagonist Lance allows the reader see them in-depth. They come alive on the pages.

While the secondary characters are not developed in-depth, some of them shine in this often-dark tale. Songee, Mike's housekeeper, tells Cari she is a woman to be reckoned with, that God has a plan for her, and to "get her head around it and do it", allowing the reader to see such a telling picture of this wiry little woman. Of course, three-year-old Daniel and his charming ways are not to be missed--he is a sweetheart.

The plot, sub-plot, back story, and love scenes blend together to create a captivating story that is set in a fascinating place that whispers with hidden secrets from a time long past. Good Reading!

See all 49 customer reviews...

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Welcome back to Virgin River with the books that started it all… 

The community of Virgin River saw Vanessa Rutledge through her darkest days—now she's looking to a bright future. 

In the space of a few months Vanessa buried her husband, Matt, and gave birth to their son—breaking her heart while filling it with a whole new kind of love. But the one man she longs to share this love with now acts as if she doesn't exist. 

Paul Haggerty lives by the marine motto: Semper Fi. Ever faithful to his best friend, he's done right by Matt's widow as best he can…considering he's been secretly in love with her for years. Now, just as he's about to make his move, another woman has staked her claim on him—a claim that will be tough to escape. 

With courage, humility and not a little meddling from the good folks of Virgin River, Vanni and Paul might just get a second chance to have the love they both desire and deserve.

Look for What We Find by Robyn Carr, a powerful story of healing, new beginnings and one woman's journey to finding the happiness she's long been missing. Order your copy today!

• Sales Rank: #94613 in Books
• Brand: Harlequin MIRA
• Published on: 2013-11-26
• Released on: 2013-11-26
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.63" h x 1.06" w x 4.15" l, .40 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 416 pages

Features

• Great product!

Review
"The Virgin River books are so compelling-I instantly connected with the characters."

-#1 New York Times bestselling author

Debbie Macomber

"This book is an utter delight."

-RT Book Reviews on Moonlight Road

"Carr has hit her stride with this captivating series."
-Library Journal on the Virgin River series

"An intensely satisfying read. By turns humorous and gut-wrenchingly emotional, it won't soon be forgotten."
-RT Book Reviews on Paradise Valley

About the Author

Robyn Carr is a RITA® Award-winning, #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than forty novels, including the critically acclaimed Virgin River series. Robyn and her husband live in Las Vegas, Nevada. You can visit Robyn Carr’s website at www.RobynCarr.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Vanessa Rutledge stood in front of her husband's grave, her coat pulled tightly around her against the crisp March breeze, red hair billowing in the wind. "I know this is going to seem like a strange request—but I just don't know who else to ask. Matt, you know I love you, that I'll always love you, that I see you in your son's eyes every day. But, darling, I'm going to love again, and I need your blessing. If I have that, I'd like you to give the man who is to be my future a little nudge. Let him know it's all right. Please? Let him know he's so much more than—" "Vanessa!"

Her father was standing out on the deck behind the house holding the baby away from himself, like he'd just pooped on his mess dress. It was past time to leave. Little Matt had been born six weeks ago and this morning they were both seeing Mel Sheridan for their first checkups since his birth. Her father, retired general Walt Booth, was acting as chauffeur so that he could watch the baby while Vanessa had her exam.

"Coming, Dad!" she called. She looked back at the grave. "We'll have a real conversation about this later," she told the headstone. She blew a long kiss in that direction and hurried down the little hill, past the stable and up to the house.

The last place Vanessa ever expected to find herself was in a tiny mountain town of six hundred. When her father chose this property a couple of years before his retirement from the Army, she and Matt had taken a look at it. Matt fell in love with it at once. "When I go," he had said, "plant me on that little hill, under that tree."

"Stop it!" she had laughed, slapping his arm, neither of them realizing how prophetic his words would be.

There was a time, years before she met Matt, that Vanni had envisioned herself as a high-powered news anchor; using her degree in communications. She decided to take a year before pursuing an eighty-hour-a-week career path and, on a whim, went to work as a flight attendant. One year turned into five because she loved the job, the travel, the people. She'd still been working for the airline when Matt left for Iraq. It was her loneliness and advancing pregnancy that had sent her packing to Virgin River. She had thought it would be temporary—she'd have the baby, wait for her husband's return from war and move on to his next assignment with him. Instead Matt was brought here, to that little hill with the tree on it.

She didn't cry as much anymore, though she missed him; missed the laughter, the long, late-night talks. Missed having someone hold her, whisper to her.

Walt had the diaper bag slung over his shoulder and was headed for the car. "Vanessa, you spend too much time talking to that grave. We should've put him somewhere else. Out of sight."

"Oh, dear," she said, lifting a curious eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Matt hasn't been complaining that I'm bothering him, has he?"

"Not funny," he said.

"You worry too much," she told her dad, taking the baby from him to put him in the car seat. "I'm not brooding. There are some things no one but Matt should hear. And gee, he's so handy…"

"Vanessa! For God's sake!" He took a breath. "You need girlfriends."

She laughed at him. "I have plenty of girlfriends." She had lots of girlfriends from flying days and, even though they didn't live nearby, they were great about visiting and staying in touch, giving her every opportunity to talk about Matt, about grief, then about the baby and recovery. "You'll be happy to know Nikki's coming up for the weekend," she said. "A girlfriend."

Walt hefted himself into the driver's seat. "We've been seeing a lot of Nikki lately. Either she can't stay away from the new baby or things aren't going so well with her and that…that…" Walt couldn't seem to finish.

"She can't stay away from the baby and no, things aren't going well with Craig. I smell a split coming," Vanessa said.

"I never liked him," Walt said with a grunt.

"No one likes him. He's an ass," Vanni said. Her best friend, too sweet for her own good, wanted a husband and children, but instead was stuck with a live-in arrangement that had gone flat years ago, leaving her almost as alone as Vanni.

Vanni had other friends besides fellow flight attendants. She'd begun to grow close to some of the women in town—her midwife, Mel Sheridan; Paige, who worked alongside her husband in the only bar and grill in town; Brie, Mel's sister-in-law. Still, there were some things only Matt would understand.

When you live in a place like Virgin River where the doctor's office only makes appointments on Wednesdays, it's a pretty good bet there won't be any waiting around. Sure enough, Mel was standing in the reception area right inside the door waiting for them to arrive. Her face lit up in delight as they walked in and she immediately reached for the baby. "Ooooh, come heeeere," she sang. "Let me look at you!" She lifted him as if weighing him. Then she cuddled him close. "He's looking good, Vanni. Getting nice and fat on the breast." She looked at Walt. "How's Grandpa doing?"

"Grandpa could use more sleep," Walt grumbled.

Vanessa made a face. "There's no reason in the world he has to get up. He certainly can't help me nurse the baby."

"I wake up, that's all. And if I'm up and Vanni's up, I might as well see if she needs anything."

Mel smiled at him. "That's a good grandpa," she said. "He'll be sleeping through the night before you know it."

"When did David sleep through the night?" Vanni asked of Mel's one-year-old.

"The first time or the last time?" Mel asked. "You might not want to ask that—we have sleeping issues at our house. And now Jack lets him in the bed with us. Take my advice, don't start that!"

Vanessa peered at Mel's growing tummy. David had just turned a year and their second baby was due in May. "I hope you have a really big bed," she said.

"There will be plenty of room when I kick Jack out of it. Come on—let's look at Mattie first and take care of his shots." Mel carried the baby back to the exam room with Vanessa following behind.

Mel had delivered little Matt right in Vanessa's bedroom and their bond had grown deep and strong. It didn't take long to determine the baby was at a good weight and in excellent health. "I'll take him out to Walt while you get into a gown, how's that?"

"Thanks," Vanni said.

A few minutes later Mel was back. "Your dad took the baby over to Jack's for a cup of coffee. And some male bonding, I suppose."

Vanni had taken her place on the exam table, and Mel checked her heart, blood pressure, and got her in position for a pelvic. "Everything looks great. You had a wonderful delivery, Vanni—you're in excellent shape. And boy, did you lose weight quickly. Isn't breast-feeding a miracle?"

"I'm not back in my old jeans yet."

"I bet you're close. Go ahead, sit up," Mel said, offering a hand. "Anything we should talk about?"

"Lots of things. Can I ask you something personal?"

"You can always ask," Mel said while writing in the chart.

"I know that before you married Jack, you were widowed…"

Mel stopped writing. She closed the chart and looked at Vanni with a sympathetic smile. "I've been expecting this conversation," she said.

"How long was it?" Vanni asked, and Mel knew exactly what she was referring to.

"I met Jack nine months after my husband's death. I married him six months later. And if you confer with the town historian and gossips, you'll learn that I was at least three months pregnant at the time. Closer to four."

"We have a town historian?"

"About six hundred of them," Mel said with a laugh. "If you have anything you'd like to keep secret, you should consider moving to another town."

"Matt's only been dead a few months, but he's been gone almost a year… Mel, he wasn't on a business trip. He was in combat, out of touch. I talked to him a total of three times, saw his face once on live video cam. The letters were short and sparse. It's been a really long time since—"

Mel touched Vanni's knee. "There's no rule of thumb on this, Vanessa. Everything I've read, and I've read a lot about widowhood, says that when people enter new relationships relatively soon after losing a spouse, it indicates they had happiness in their marriage. Being married was a good experience for them." She smiled.

"I didn't even know for sure I was pregnant when Matt left for Iraq last May. I'm not thinking about another marriage, of course," Vanni said. "But I am thinking about— Well, what I'm thinking is that I don't want to be alone forever."

"Of course you shouldn't be alone forever. You have a lot of life to live."

Vanni smiled. "Should I be thinking about birth control?"

"We can talk about that. You wouldn't want to be as unprepared as your midwife. Especially with having a baby to take care of. Believe me." She took a breath and ran a hand over her big belly. "I wouldn't let myself think ahead! I remember when my sister said, 'I know widows who have remarried, and are happy.' I almost took her head off. I was appalled. I wasn't at all hopeful life could go on."

"It sure went on for you," Vanni said.

"Boy howdy. I came here absolutely determined to live out my days lonely and miserable, but that damn Jack—he ambushed me. I think I fell in love with him the minute I met him, but I fought it. As though I might somehow be unfaithful to my husband's memory by moving on, which was absurd. I had the kind of husband who would have wanted me to have love in my life, and I bet you did, too."

"You don't send a man off to war without talking a few things through—my parents taught me that. One of the first ways Tom and I figured out the general was headed for a possible deployment was when the paperwork came out. Wills, trusts, etcetera. Not just in case something happened to him, but what if he was away in some jungle or desert war zone and something happened to Mom?" She smiled a bit wistfully. "Matt didn't dwell on the worst-case scenario, but he was quick and to the point. He said I wasn't the type to wallow and he'd be disappointed in me if I did. He had a few requests—where he wanted to be buried, what to do with his favorite personal items, to make sure his parents got regular visits especially if we had children. And—if a good man showed his face, I was not to hesitate." She took a breath. "My requests of him were almost identical." She straightened. "If I'm lucky enough to run into another man half as wonderful as Matt, I should be ready."

"Absolutely. It's not at all impossible, even in little old Virgin River. Let's get you something reliable while you're considering all this. You want a pill you can take while breast-feeding? Can I hook you up with a diaphragm or IUD? Have you given the options any thought?"

Vanni smiled gratefully. Of course she'd thought about it. "Yes. IUD please."

"Let's go over the models," Mel said. Then she smiled. "By the way, you're all cleared for intercourse. Should you find."

Vanni laughed. "Thanks," she said.

"You have good judgment. Make sure there's a condom involved. We don't want the transmission of any—"

"I have good judgment," Vanni repeated. "And extremely good taste."

There was a man on Vanessa's mind, he was the reason she'd found herself imploring Matt for help and blessings. Matt's best friend; her best friend. Paul.

He spent months in Virgin River, supporting and comforting her, spending Christmas away from his parents, brothers and their families. They spent a lot of time talking about Matt; crying about Matt, lost in hours of sentimental remembering. Without Paul's strength, she'd never have gotten through the worst of it. He was her rock.

Her relationship with Paul went back much further, of course. It wasn't as though they became friends because of Matt's death. In fact, that night long ago when she met Matt, it had been Paul across the room who'd first caught her eye. He was so tall, his legs so long and hands so big, it was hard for him not to stand out in a crowd. There was that willful, sandy hair that had to be kept short because it would defy any kind of styling. Not that Paul was the kind of man to fuss with his hair—it was obvious even from a distance that he stuck to basics. It was his masculinity she noticed; he looked like a lumberjack who'd cleaned up to go into town. He had an engaging smile; one tooth in front was just a little crooked and he had a dimple on the left cheek. Heavy brown brows, deep chocolate eyes—details she discovered a bit later, of course. She hadn't even noticed Matt.

But it was Matt who put the rush on her, swept her off her feet, made her laugh, made her blush. While Paul hung back, shy and silent, Matt charmed her to her very bones. And shortly after the charm, he made her desire him madly, love him deeply. He was hardly a consolation prize—he was one of the best men in the world. And a devoted husband, so in love with her.

She loved Paul before Matt's death, grew to love him more deeply afterward. When little Mattie was born, she said to Paul, "I will never love anyone but Matt." But as the weeks passed she realized that she didn't have to stop loving Matt any more than Paul should. Matt would be with them both forever. And it was like the natural order of things that Paul should step in now. But there was no indication from him that he felt anything more than a special friendship. She had no doubt that Paul loved her, loved little Matt, but it didn't appear to be the kind of love that could warm her on cold nights.

She'd called him several times since he'd returned to Grants Pass; polite and entertaining conversations about the baby, the town and his friends here, about her dad and brother, even sometimes about Matt.

"The baby's gained a pound and a half already," she told him. "He's already changed so much."

"Who does he look like?" Paul asked. "Is his hair still dark or does he have a patch of fire on his head, like his mom?"

"Still just a little Matt," she said. "I want you to see him. Hold him." Hold me!

"I'll have to try to get down there."

He hadn't visited yet. And he never betrayed any longing. Not a whiff of desire came through those phone lines.

She felt like a fool for even wanting him. But there was no denying it—she missed him so much. And not the way a young widow misses having a man in her life. The way a woman longs for a man who stirs her, moves her.

When Mel walked Vanni out to the clinic's waiting room, Vanni spied her younger brother's girlfriend waiting there. "Brenda!" Vanni said, going to her, giving her a hug. "I guess if there are only appointments on Wednesdays, there's a good chance you'll run into all your friends here," she said with a laugh.

"I guess." Brenda shrugged, blushing a little.

"I have to rescue my dad before he runs into a messy diaper. He's got the baby at Jack's. I'll see you later—probably tonight at dinner?"

"Sure," Brenda said. "Later."

Most helpful customer reviews

26 of 28 people found the following review helpful.
Liked it but...
By JACK
I really like this series, and I even liked this book. However, of all the stories in the series, this was my least favorite. More than any of the other books, this one seemed really choppy. Only about half of the book was truly Vanni and Paul's story while the rest seemed liked separate short stories thrown together. I really enjoyed Joe and Nikki's side story, and I always like getting caught up with old favorites like Jack and Preacher, but this book as a whole didn't really flow into one main story as the others did. If you follow the series, then you should definitely read this and if you're new to the series start at the first book. I am still anxious for the next installment.

32 of 36 people found the following review helpful.
Did not like this one. Hope the series returns to it's original form.
By VanillaMoon
***SPOILERS ABOUND!!*************

So far I've read the first 5 Virgin River novels in less than a week and what started out as an awesome series has taken a sharp turn on this one. Each book is about one couple from Virgin River, peppered with sub-plots and revisits of other couples. It may help to know the revisits of other couples are SOLELY so you can hear about how their babymaking goes. That's it. Once people get together in Virgin River the ONLY thing important about them is how many babies they can make.

Normally people in Virgin River, while being baby obsessed and really very nosy, are for the most part decent people. Second Chance Pass, the 5th book in the series, is the saga of Paul and Vanni. The two most self-centered and inconsiderate people in Virgin River. It's amazing how just generally awful these two people are.

Just two months after Vanni's husband Matt is killed in Iraq, she jumps into bed with his best friend Paul. This is totally believable, though, because as Vanni says she was pretty much widowed the day he left for Iraq. Wow. Talk about a downer for families with loved ones in the service.

About an hour after they have sex like high schoolers (just 6 weeks after she delivered a baby---go woman go!) they decide to get married and live HEA.
Unfortunately, Paul may or may not have knocked up his booty call, Terri, a few towns over. So he makes a few infrequent phone calls to Terri and purposely makes himself unavailable to her while she's bewildered at being pregnant. Oh no! How will self-centered Paul get on with nailing his dead best friend's wife AND be a barely-there father for his kid? Let's find out!

Vanni's got her own dilemma, too. Not only did she just give birth 6 weeks ago to her dead husband's baby, she's been set up on a date with a handsome, polite, charismatic pediatrician!!!! Oh, the horror! So she goes away with him for the weekend, only to make Paul jealous. I mean this poor guy is perfect in every way. He's patient and kind and frickin' adorable and she uses him then says, "Oh, sorry about that, Cam." Actually, that's not true. She never really apologizes.

And then PAUL uses him, too! During the booty call baby disaster. I swear these two people are hands down the most inconsiderate, self-involved people I've ever heard of. And they spend about 100 pages talking about what they'll be doing with Paul's baby. They don't even mention Terri, the poor woman. It's like she barely exists. She's merely a vessel that is bringing Paul's spawn into the world.

Thank God, though, that Vanni came around to accepting the idea that Paul knocked someone else up. Because about 20 pages before that she basically told Paul that if he wanted to be with her, he'd have to abandon Terri and the baby she's carrying. And about the only decent thing Paul does in the whole book is say, "Sorry, Vanni. I can't do that." And then he goes to Cameron the jilted Pediatrician for help getting an ultrasound.

And Cameron says, "Well, since I'm the only person in this book who's more mature than the fetus in question, I'll help you." And then he punches Paul in the face. No, he doesn't really. He should have, though. I would have. And I'd have smacked Vanni in the mouth while I was at it. But he doesn't do that either. Probably because in every scene that Vanni's in she's either just starting or just wrapping up breastfeeding and everyone knows you shouldn't hit a woman til she puts the baby down.

Seriously, can we get more descriptions of breast feeding? I think once in every chapter is not enough. I need breastfeeding to be depicted or at least mentioned on every single page. 'Cause it's so riveting. I mean, I get it. It's realistic, but I still don't care or want to read about it. It's realistic for people to go number two at least once a day, but I don't want to read about that either. Leave some stuff out, Mrs. Carr, it's okay.

Overall, I love the Virgin River books for what they are. But they do have some annoying problems. Everyone wants babies. Everyone loves babies. Everyone gets pregnant left right and center in these books and it's never, ever a problem. For anyone. Ever. The one time it was a problem for the mom and dad-to-be, the baby died. Nice to not have any real life, LONG TERM consequences in your books.

Terri's booty call baby turned out not to be Paul's. Because Mrs. Carr refuses to write about a couple who is stuck with a baby and trying to make the best of it. Even the woman who ABANDONED her baby in an earlier book because she didn't want it, ultimately came around and decided she DID want it. She's cured! Even post-partum depression is no match for the magic of babies!

At first I thought the whole baby angle was cute, in a way. Then it became a soap box for Carr to preach about homebirth, breastfeeding, mammograms, etc. Then it became pervasive and creepy. And now it's kind of like Virgin River is some sort of Stepford Community where people wander around like zombies but instead of saying "Brains!" they say, "Breed!"

Mike and Brie? They live in an RV, and they're trying to make a baby. The local midwife? 'Accidentally' got pregant while she was still breastfeeding her first baby. And both times her husband figured out she was PG before she did. This doesn't bode well for her career. The first time a midwife looked me in the eye and said, "I accidentally got pregnant twice and didn't even know it," I'd be like, "Well, I think I'll just stick with the OB-GYN two towns over. Thanks, anyway."

The number of babies in these books boggles the mind. Someone's gonna need to open a day care.

I'll keep reading these books, mostly because I want to know what's going to happen with Shady Brady. At least until the word breastfeeding or pregnant appears on every single page, which might actually happen, and then I'll pack up and take my leave of Virgin River.

The one bright spot is, the General and the Movie Star are starting a little something, something. He's 62 and she's 55. So there's at least ONE couple (and probably only one) in Virgin River who is NOT going to have a baby! They won't get their own book though. Because without breastfeeding and pregnancy, their story would only be about 15 pages long. People who don't breed in Virgin River are merely placeholders.

Wow. I hope this series gets back to its roots. Quickly.

16 of 17 people found the following review helpful.
So heartwarming you'll wish you could move there
By Tooncesmom
Second Chance Pass is Book 5 in the amazing Robyn Carr's Virgin River series. If one goes online to check out any of Ms. Carr's books, they will find themselves awash in comments from devoted followers. Why the adulation? Because Ms. Carr delivers on a theme readers the world over, love. Brave military men and the women who love them who live to a code of honor, seemingly missing in today's gimme, gimme, entitlement era.

I love that this series provides new characters with their struggles while keeping us informed on the previous characters who inhabit tiny Virgin River, her fictional town in the Humboldt County redwoods. I can't wait to read more about Jack Sheridan and his nurse practitioner wife Mel and their growing family, or John Middletown, the gentle giant who captures Paige's heart. Or the rest of Jack's and Preacher's ex-Marine buddies. They're all here in Second Chance Pass, plus the stories of Paul Haggerty and his adoring bride Vanessa, Vanni's father, General Walt Booth and the retired movie-star neighbor, and architectural designer, Joe Benson who is instantly blown away on his first meeting with Vanni's girlfriend and maid of honor Nikki Jorgensen.

In Second Chance Pass, the reader will walk through the births of Mel's and Paige's babies, discover Paul's undying love for Vanni and her deceased husband, and cheer Joe Benson as he meets his match in petite Nikki. But can Nikki shed her apprehensions about Joe's sincerity after a night of mind-blowing sex? Is it just a fling or the real deal? Pick up a copy of Second Chance Pass and find out. You won't be disappointed. Robyn Carr's Virgin River is a series so heartwarming, you wish you could move there.

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## PDF Ebook Behind Closed Doors, by Tara Taylor Quinn

PDF Ebook Behind Closed Doors, by Tara Taylor Quinn

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Closing the door doesn't always keep you safe . . .

Laura Elizabeth Clark saw herself as a peacemaker. Until the day she went against her parents' wishes and married Harry Kendall, a brilliant history professor who happens to be biracial.

But happily-ever-after goes horribly wrong one night when an intruder forces his way into their bedroom and commits an unthinkable crime. The police say it was a random act of violence, but Harry will never forget those words whispered in the darkness: "White should stay with white."

Seeking justice means confronting a group of white supremacists -- the Ivory Nation -- with its hush-hush ties to political power. Suddenly, opening the door on truth could threaten not just Harry and Laura's love, but their lives . . .

• Sales Rank: #1825695 in Books
• Published on: 2007-10-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 1.00" h x 5.99" w x 6.66" l,
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 375 pages

From Booklist
When two masked men break into the Kendall home and brutally rape Laura, her husband, Harry, is certain that the crime is hate related. He is African American, and Laura is white, and the attackers tell her that "white stays with white." Tucson police detective Daniel Boyd isn't initially convinced of the hate-crime connection, so Harry begins his own investigation, which soon leads him to a possible link to the Ivory Nation, one of Arizona's most terrifying white-supremacist groups. While Harry searches for justice, Laura struggles to rebuild her life and her marriage, both of which may be destroyed beyond repair. The second in Quinn's Ivory Nation trilogy, following In Plain Sight (2006), is an intense, dark, and thought-provoking look at the damage hatred and fear cause in the world and an affecting drama that reveals how love and hope can heal those same wounds. Combining her usual superb sense of characterization with a realistically gritty plot, Quinn has created an exceptionally powerful book. Charles, John

Review
"Character-driven suspense at its best with rapid-fire pacing that makes you feel as if the pages are turning themselves." -- Hallie Ephron, author of Writing and Selling Your Mystery Novel, on In Plain Sight

"Slick, sexy and fast-paced, Quinn's latest is a top-notch, topical thriller." -- Romantic Times BOOKreviews on In Plain Sight

"With In Plain Sight, Tara Taylor Quinn delivers a riveting suspenseful story that . . . Crackles with action." -- Bookreporter.com

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
powerful thriller
By A Customer
In Tucson, Arizona an intruder with a gun invades the home of African-American history professor Harry Kendall and his white wife botanist Laura Clark. He beats up Harry before tying him up and raping Laura. Already irate, Harry becomes outraged at the police's failure to make any progress on the case as he knows they are looking at a random act while the culprit made it clear it was racially motivated.

Fuming he decides to investigate. As he obsessively follows clues to the white supremacist serendipitously politically connected Ivory Nation, he places himself and his spouse in danger from an amoral racist (and his allies) who has no compunctions in killing him and raping a fearful Laura again at a time she is pregnant carrying who knows who's child.

The keys to this powerful thriller are the reactions of the lead couple to the assault and rape, and the underlying concept that even BEHIND CLOSED DOORS, people are not necessarily safe from those who use force and fear especially to further a "sanctioned" cause. The action-packed story line focuses on the aftermath impact on the psyche of mostly an angry Harry, who seeks vengeance even legal reparations. However to a lesser degree fans see how Laura reacts as she is very frightened (almost agoraphobic) but tries to move on while worrying about the DNA of the fetus she carries; and somewhat on Bobby Donahue of Ivory Nation, who escaped justice IN PLAIN SIGHT as he shows a human side with his tenderness towards his infant son, who is his reason for doing what he does. This character driven thriller will hook the audience from the onset until the final new beginning.

Harriet Klausner

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Unsettling and Eye Opening
By Debbie Haupt-The Reading Frenzy
I just finished Tara Taylor Quinn's Behind Closed Doors, it's the second in her series about a white supremacy group the Ivory Nation and what the law enforcement agencies and whoever are doing to eradicate them. It was a very good book about a dark subject and she handled it with great expertise. In this installment the main characters Harry and Laura Kendall a biracial couple who are brutalized by the hands of these madmen. It is a real eyeopener and EVERYONE should read it. Her first in the series was in plain sight and it was equally engrossing. Quinn is usually put into the romance box but these books although they have romance in them are definitely not your normal everyday romance.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Starts fast and never stops
By Evan the Dweezil
I liked the white supremacist angle of Ms. Quinn's In Plain Sight and thought I'd give the follow-up a shot. Behind Closed Doors is far superior to the previous volume in this series. The story starts out with a heart-pounding scene and the intensity never turns down as Harry hunts down the sick monsters who attacked he and his wife while they slept in their own bed. Ex-FBI agent Simon Green even makes a cameo.

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