Willow Brook Road. Sherryl Woods
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Название: Willow Brook Road
Автор: Sherryl Woods
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: MIRA
isbn: 9781474044950
isbn:
I’ve been blessed with so many fabulous editors through the years as well, women who’ve gently nudged me to create better and better stories. Lucia Macro started my career with Silhouette way back in the ’80s. Joan Golan guided me through literally dozens of books. Now I have the absolute pleasure of working with Margaret O’Neill Marbury for the second time. I’m a better writer because of them and too many others to name (there have been 140-plus books, after all).
Once a book is polished to perfection—or as near to that as we ever get—it’s in the hands of the publisher and sales team. I’ve worked with several, but no sales force could be more determined or enthusiastic than the men and women at Mira. Getting these books where you can find them is a tough job, and they’re the very best at it. They have my undying gratitude!
There are dozens of others I’d like to thank, including family and friends, but I’ll use this last little bit of space to thank you! Your emails and letters mean the world to me. And I’ve always tried to keep you in mind with every page I write. Bless you for the support and love you’ve shown.
All best as always,
Sherryl
Contents
The original Mick O’Brien–designed cottage on Willow Brook Road had been built with weathered gray shingles, white trim and a tiny back porch barely big enough for two rockers side by side. They faced Willow Brook, which fed into the Chesapeake Bay. The backyard sloped gently to the brook, with the graceful branches of a trademark weeping willow touching the lawn at the water’s edge. The peaceful setting was just right for quiet conversation or relaxing with a good book.
In front the cottage featured a small yard with an actual white picket fence and a climbing yellow rosebush that tumbled over it with a profusion of fragrant blooms. Bright red and hot-pink geraniums filled pots on the stoop in a vibrant display of clashing colors. The property oozed picturesque charm.
With three cozy bedrooms and a fireplace in the living room and a surprisingly large eat-in kitchen, it was the perfect Chesapeake Shores vacation getaway or a starter home for a small family, but Carrie Winters had been living there alone and at loose ends for almost six months now. The only personal touch she’d added beyond the mismatched furniture she’d acquired from various family attics was the portrait of the whole O’Brien family taken at the Christmas wedding of her twin, Caitlyn.
These days, sitting in one of those rockers for more than a minute or two made her antsy. After two years in a pressure-cooker public relations job at which she’d excelled, being idle was a new experience, and one she didn’t particularly like. She was too distracted for reading anything deeper than the local weekly newspaper. And though she loved to cook, making fancy meals for one person just left her feeling lonely.
Worst of all, she seemed incapable of motivating herself to get out of this funk she’d been in ever since coming home. Chesapeake Shores might be where she wanted—or even needed—to be as she tried to piece her life back together and reevaluate her priorities, but it had created its own sort of pressure.
While the rest of the O’Brien clan was unmistakably worried about her, her grandfather Mick was СКАЧАТЬ