Spotlight: Missing in the Desert by Dana Mentink

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Missing in the Desert by Dana Mentink is available on July 27.

Book Description

Five years ago, her sister disappeared…

Now someone is coming for her.

Who would believe that Mara Castillo's sister—missing and presumed dead—suddenly sent a one-word text? Now Mara wants answers, even if it means stepping into a killer's sights with her brother's best friend, rancher Levi Duke, as her only protection. But with someone who has everything to lose after her, uncovering a long-buried secret could save her life…or claim it.

Excerpt

Levi Duke let the engine idle and rubbed his temple. Another headache, courtesy of the wreck. The headaches were probably temporary, the doctors said. He sighed. Yes, the car accident four months before had left him with a scar, but worse yet, his hospital time made him miss out on a perfect horse to add to his herd. That was the real pain of it.

“Not this time,” he said. “We’re gonna have ourselves a new mare, ’Jo.”

Banjo, the sizable mutt with a chunk missing from one ear, sprawled in his passenger seat and licked the knee of Levi’s jeans. The dog slithered his way under Levi’s palm until he got the ear rub he was looking for. Mission accomplished, he flopped over and presented his belly, long legs taking up more than his fair share of the room. His fleas and the mud were gone now, thanks to a bath that had been a struggle of epic proportions, his leg wound treated, too. His ribs were not quite as prominent as the day Levi had found him panting and half-dead in a dry creek bed. The dog had introduced himself with eyes desperate for help and the faintest of tail wags. Who could say no to that?

The cell phone chimed.

“We’re just driving past the Funeral Mountains.” Mara’s voice was cool, in spite of the faint Southern drawl. Never could hide her feelings. She was upset with him for inviting her brother, Seth, to partner with him in purchasing the Rocking Horse Ranch. Maybe she had a right to be. A busted-up old ranch just outside Death Valley National Park, a place so hot it was nearly uninhabitable four months of the year? Not exactly a surefire moneymaker. But it wasn’t really about the money—not for him, anyway. He was surprised Mara had even agreed to accompany Seth to meet the mare. Maybe Mara was softening to the idea? Not likely.

“Be careful,” he said. “Road’s steep. I’ll meet you at the farm and introduce you to Cookie. She’s a sweetheart.” Offered for sale by a local, the mare would be a perfect fit for their current herd of eleven if co-owner Seth approved. They needed more horses pronto to meet the tourist demands for the November Camp Town Days Festival the following week.

There was a pause. “All right.”

He forced cheer into his voice to counteract her lack of enthusiasm. “Laney and Beckett are having a barbecue at the Hotsprings. They asked me to invite you both.” His cousin Beckett’s hotel was making a slow recovery after the set of killings that had resulted in Beckett’s false imprisonment and a threat to Laney’s life. It was easier to forget those days now, as the couple prepared for the spring birth of their first child.

Mara queried her brother and returned her attention to the phone. “Seth says he’d love to go, but I have some business to work on.”

Business? Mara helped run her parents’ furniture store in Henderson, Nevada, some two hundred miles away. Odd that she’d have business here in podunk Furnace Falls. It wasn’t his nature to pry. Then again, she might just be making an excuse to stay far away from him. He blew out a silent breath. Horses were so much easier to read than people, especially women, most especially Mara Castillo.

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About the Author

Dana Mentink is a national bestselling author. She has been honored to win two Carol Awards, a Holt Medallion, and a Reviewer's Choice award. She's authored more than thirty novels to date for Harlequin’s Love Inspired Suspense and Harlequin Heartwarming. Dana loves feedback from her readers. Contact her at www.danamentink.com

Connect with the Author

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Spotlight: Distracting the Deputy by Shanna Hatfield

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(Summer Creek, #4)
Publication date: June 22nd 2021
Genres: Adult, Romance, Western

Synopsis:

Trouble is coming, but for whom? 

When he’s not evading grabby-handed octogenarians, mentoring troubled teens, or rescuing rascally youngsters from disaster, Deputy Knox Strickland can be found upholding the law in the eastern Oregon region he patrols. He avoids making plans for tomorrow, focusing instead on doing his best today. Then one chance encounter with a beautiful woman in a wheat field turns his world upside down. Knox is left questioning what secrets she’s hiding, and how hard he’ll have to work to scale the fortress she’s built around her heart. 

Zadie Redmond isn’t like most women. A life spent looking over her shoulder has destroyed the promising future she’d once envisioned. Her days are spent leading hunting and fishing adventures or teaching tiny ballerinas the proper way to plié. She fills her evenings with do-it-yourself projects while worrying about the day her past catches up with her. In an unexpected moment, the local deputy swoops into her world like a storybook hero and she knows nothing will ever be the same. Zadie will do anything to keep Knox safe from the danger lurking in the shadows, even if it destroys her chance at love. 

Will Knox convince Zadie she can trust him with her secrets and her heart? 

A sweet romance full of quirky small-town fun, Distracting the Deputy is a story of hope, help, and hanging on to what matters most. 

Excerpt

He could tell the moment Zadie realized she wasn’t alone. Unlike most people who would have been embarrassed and made excuses for trespassing, she opened one eye to see who had dared interrupt her moment of solitude in the fading August sun.

“I know I shouldn’t be out here, Deputy Strickland, but the wheat field called to me, and I had to answer,” she said with a sassy grin.

“Called to you?” He spoke in a hushed tone. Something about this evening warranted whispers, maybe even a few secrets.

Rather than answer, Zadie closed her eyes and returned to brushing her fingers over the beards of wheat in a light caress. For a fleeting moment, Knox wondered what it would be like to feel her touch against his skin.

“What’s going to happen next?” he asked in mock seriousness. “Is the hayfield over there going to serenade you?”

Zadie laughed softly. “No. Don’t be absurd. The scrub jays have done a superb job of that.”

He stood perfectly still, listening with his heart as much as his ears. Birds sang to each other. Water chink-chinked out of a pivot. The breeze wound through the wheat, making it almost sound like a pair of brush sticks scratching across a drum.

Absorbed in the moment, he finally turned his focus back to Zadie. “For the record, I’m off duty, so I suppose that means we’re both trespassing.” He gave her another long glance. “What are you really doing out here?”

Zadie opened her eyes and turned to face him. “I’ve never walked through a field of ripe wheat. It seemed like a great evening to cross that experience off my list of things I want to someday do. It’s magnificent, like the breeze and the birds and the land make their own music.”

Uncertain what to say in response to a statement both poetic and peculiar, Knox merely nodded.

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About the Author

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USA Today bestselling author Shanna Hatfield is a farm girl who loves to write. Her sweet historical and contemporary romances are filled with sarcasm, humor, hope, and hunky heroes. When Shanna isn’t dreaming up unforgettable characters, twisting plots, or covertly seeking dark, decadent chocolate, she hangs out with her beloved husband, Captain Cavedweller.

Shanna loves to hear from readers. Follow her online at:

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Spotlight: Lady Sunshine by Amy Mason Doan

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ONE ICONIC FAMILY. ONE SUMMER OF SECRETS. THE DAZZLING SPIRIT OF 1970S CALIFORNIA.

For Jackie Pierce, everything changed the summer of 1979, when she spent three months of infinite freedom at her bohemian uncle’s sprawling estate on the California coast. As musicians, artists, and free spirits gathered at The Sandcastle for the season in pursuit of inspiration and communal living, Jackie and her cousin Willa fell into a fast friendship, testing their limits along the rocky beach and in the wild woods... until the summer abruptly ended in tragedy, and Willa silently slipped away into the night.

Twenty years later, Jackie unexpectedly inherits The Sandcastle and returns to the iconic estate for a short visit to ready it for sale. But she reluctantly extends her stay when she learns that, before her death, her estranged aunt had promised an up-and-coming producer he could record a tribute album to her late uncle at the property’s studio. As her musical guests bring the place to life again with their sun-drenched beach days and late-night bonfires, Jackie begins to notice startling parallels to that summer long ago. And when a piece of the past resurfaces and sparks new questions about Willa’s disappearance, Jackie must discover if the dark secret she’s kept ever since is even the truth at all.

Excerpt

1

A Girl, Her Cousin, and a Waterfall

1999

I rattle the padlock on the gate, strum my fingers along the cold chain-link fence.

I own this place.

Maybe if I repeat it often enough I’ll believe it.

All along the base of the fence are tributes: shells, notes, sketches, bunches of flowers. Some still fresh, some so old the petals are crisp as parchment. I follow the fence uphill, along the coast side, and stop at a wooden, waist-high sign marking the path up to the waterfall. It wasn’t here the summer I visited.

The sign is covered in words and drawings, so tattooed-over by fan messages that you can barely read the official one. I run my fingertips over the engravings: initials, peace symbols, Thank you’s, I Love You’s. Fragments of favorite lyrics. After coming so far to visit the legendary estate, people need to do something, leave their mark, if only with a rock on fog-softened wood.

Song titles from my uncle’s final album, Three, are carved everywhere. “Heart, Home, Hope.”

“Leaf, Shell, Raindrop.”

“Angel, Lion, Willow.” Someone has etched that last one in symbols instead of words. The angel refers to Angela, my aunt. The lion is my uncle Graham.

And the willow tree. Willa, my cousin.

I have a pointy metal travel nail file in my suitcase; I could add my message to the rest, my own tribute to this place, to the Kingstons. To try to explain what happened the summer I spent here. I could tell it like one of the campfire tales I used to spin for Willa.

This is the story of a girl, her cousin, and a waterfall…

But there’s no time for that, not with only seven days to clear the house for sale. Back at the gate, where Toby’s asleep in his cat carrier in the shade, I dig in my overnight bag for the keys. They came in a FedEx with a fat stack of documents I must’ve read on the plane from Boston a dozen times—thousands of words, all dressed up in legal jargon. When it’s so simple, really. Everything inside that fence is mine now, whether I want it or not.

I unlock the gate, lift the metal shackle, and walk uphill to the highest point, where the gravel widens into a parking lot, then fades away into grass. The field opens out below me just like I remember. We called it “the bowl,” because of the way the edges curve up all around it. A golden bowl scooped into the hills, rimmed on three sides by dark green woods. The house, a quarter mile ahead of me at the top of the far slope, is a pale smudge in the fir trees.

I stop to take it in, this piece of land I now own. The Sandcastle, everyone called it.

Without the neighbors’ goats and Graham’s guests to keep the grass down, the field has grown wild, many of the yellow weeds high as my belly button.

Willa stood here with me once and showed me how from this angle the estate resembled a sun. The kind a child would draw, with a happy face inside. Once I saw it, it was impossible to un-see:

The round, straw-colored field, trails squiggling off to the woods in every direction, like rays. The left eye—the campfire circle. The right eye—the blue aboveground pool. The nose was the vertical line of picnic benches in the middle of the circle that served as our communal outdoor dining table. The smile was the curving line of parked cars and motorcycles and campers.

All that’s gone now, save for the pool, which is squinting, collapsed, moldy green instead of its old bright blue.

I should go back for my bag and Toby but I can’t resist—I move on, down to the center of the field. Far to my right in the woods, the brown roofline of the biggest A-frame cabin, Kingfisher, pokes through the firs. But no other cabins are visible, the foliage is so thick now. Good. Each alteration from the place of my memories gives me confidence. I can handle this for a week. One peaceful, private week to box things up and send them away.

“Sure you don’t want me to come help?” Paul had asked when he dropped me at the airport this morning. “We could squeeze in a romantic weekend somewhere. I’ve always wanted to go to San Francisco.”

“You have summer school classes, remember? Anyway, it’ll be totally boring, believe me.”

I’d told him—earnest, sweet Paul, who all the sixth-graders at the elementary school where we work hope they get as their teacher and who wants to marry me—that the trip was no big deal. That I’d be away for a week because my aunt in California passed away. That I barely knew her and just had to help pack up her old place to get it ready for sale.

He believed me.

I didn’t tell him that the “old place” is a stunning, sprawling property perched over the Pacific, studded with cabins and outbuildings and a legendary basement recording studio. That the land bubbles with natural hot springs and creeks and waterfalls.

Or that I’ve inherited it. All of it. The fields, the woods, the house, the studio. And my uncle’s music catalog.

I didn’t tell him that I visited here once as a teenager, or that for a little while, a long time ago, I was sure I’d stay forever.

Excerpted from Lady Sunshine @ 2021 by Amy Mason Doan, used with permission by Graydon House.

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About the Author:

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AMY MASON DOAN is the author of The Summer List and Summer Hours. She earned a BA in English from UC Berkeley and an MA in journalism from Stanford University, and has written for The Oregonian, San Francisco Chronicle, and Forbes, among other publications. She grew up in Danville, California, and now lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband and daughter.

Connect:

Website: https://amymasondoan.com/ 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amymasondoanauthor 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AmyLDoan 

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16722065.Amy_Mason_Doan 

Mailing List: https://amymasondoan.com/contact/ 

Spotlight: Peril on the Ranch by Lynette Eason

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Peril on the Ranch by Lynette Eason is available on June 29.

Book Description

They’ll shield her newest charge…

no matter what the cost.

When an infant is abandoned on her ranch, foster mother Isabelle Trent will do anything for the child—even put her own life on the line. She might not know who left the little girl, but it’s clear someone’s after her and will kill to reach their target. With Isabelle’s ranch hand, Brian “Mac” McGee, at her side, can she survive long enough to protect the baby?

Excerpt

Mac bolted from the truck just as the sun crested the horizon and spread light around the area. He raced around the side of the house to the back and skidded to a stop. The intruder the owner had mentioned had one foot inside the window and his gloved hands gripped the molding. Mac darted forward, placed his hands on the porch railing and vaulted over it. He landed on the wooden flooring with a thud and faced the frozen figure now half in and half out of the house. “Don’t do it, man,” Mac said. “Cops are on the way.”

His words seemed to send indecision sweeping through the guy. A pause Mac took advantage of. He lunged, grabbed two fistfuls of the hoodie material and pulled him away from the window. A heavy fist glanced off Mac’s cheek. He winced and jerked back, losing his grip. That gave the wiry figure the opening he needed, and he darted away from Mac to dash down the length of the porch, leap over the steps and head full-speed across the pasture. Mac pounded after him.

The guy broke through the tree line and disappeared into the woods. Mac did the same seconds later, only to stop when he realized he’d lost him. Mac turned, listening, his eyes searching. Finally, he heard the crunching of underbrush to his left and headed that way, hit a patch of mud and slid almost falling. He managed to catch his balance, but a second later, the roar of a motorcycle captured his attention. After one last push through tree limbs and vines, he found himself staring at the back of a disappearing bike. He didn’t know where the trail led, but there was no way he’d catch the guy on foot. With a sigh, he gave up the chase and retraced his steps.

When he came to the pasture beyond the tree line, he could see the woman who was, hopefully, his future boss. Isabelle Trent. She stood on the front porch, a little girl about five years old clutching Isabelle’s knee with one hand and a doll with her other. Isabelle cradled an infant in the crook of her right arm.

Dressed in jeans, boots and a long-sleeved red flannel shirt, she had her blond hair pulled into a messy ponytail. It struck him that she looked comfortable and completely in her element. If understandably shaken. Two police officers faced her. One wrote notes in a little black book while the other spoke into the radio on her shoulder. As Mac approached, Isabelle’s green eyes landed on him, and the officers turned. Mac made sure they could see his hands.

“That’s the man who came to the rescue,” Isabelle said.

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About the Author

Lynette Eason lives in Simpsonville, SC with her husband and two children. She is an award-winning, best-selling author who spends her days writing when she's not traveling around the country teaching at writing conferences. Lynette enjoys visits to the mountains, hanging out with family and brainstorming stories with her fellow writers. You can visit Lynette's website to find out more at www.lynetteeason.com or like her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/lynette.eason

Connect with the Author

Website: http://www.lynetteeason.com/

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1091207.Lynette_Eason

Spotlight: Things Unsaid by Diana Y. Paul

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Inspired by a true story about mothers, daughters, and impossible choices—Jules Foster, a child psychologist, upon hearing news of her estranged, narcissistic mother’s terminal diagnosis, chooses to care for her mother over her own daughter, only to find out she has been betrayed all along. Things Unsaid asks us to consider what children owe their aging parents and siblings.

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About the Author

Diana Y. Paul, an award-winning novelist, was born in Akron, Ohio and  has a Ph.D. in Buddhist Studies and a B.A. in both psychology and philosophy.  Diana is a former Stanford professor in Buddhism with a focus on the role of women and intergenerational families. 

Things Unsaid is a multiple award-winning novel: USA Best Book Awards Finalist in two categories (Best New Fiction and Best Literary Fiction), Beverly Hills Book Awards Winner for Best New Adult Fiction, Readers Favorite Silver Award Winner for Best Drama, and a Pushcart Nominee. Her second novel, Deeds Undone, a mystery, continues the narrative of Things Unsaid. A Perfect Match will be her third. When not writing, Diana creates mixed media art. Her art has been in museums and galleries in California, Hawaii, and Japan. Visit her blog on movies and art at: www.unhealedwound.com and her author website at: www.dianaypaul.com. Her Amazon author page is: amazon.com/author/dianaypaul Or stop by on Facebook, Twitter: @DianaPaul10 and/or Instagram: dianapaul10 and dianay.paulAuthor

Spotlight: There's More To It by Allie York

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Workaholic Sebastian Keller wasn’t expecting to adopt the kid he befriended in his building, but now he’s invested and he will do whatever it takes, even if that means faking a relationship with Stevie Summers. She's down on her luck, he's trying to become a father, together, they can help each other, but can they stop themselves from falling in love? Readers will love this fake romance featuring a swoony adoptive dad. Fall in love with your next book boyfriend with There’s More To It by Allie York, the next book in the Single Dad’s Romance series.

Read Now! 

Amazon https://amzn.to/3gwCCsM 

I’m Sebastian Keller and I’m a workaholic.

Multi-million-dollar companies don’t run themselves and I work hard to keep mine at the top. Befriending a kid was never on my agenda, but the second I set foot into my new apartment, he’s there to show me the ropes. When his foster family can’t keep him anymore, my choice is clear. The only thing I need to make him part of my life is something money can’t buy. A girlfriend.

I’m Stevie Summers and I’m barely scraping by.

I was on the right track. I had a fiancé, a job, and a degree. Until my fiancé cheated, and my mom died. Now I’m back at home scrambling for work and trying to pay my dad’s bills. I can forget about my love life entirely. Until a blast from my past comes into my life with an offer, I’d be stupid to refuse. Play his girlfriend. In return, he pays the bills. I’d be stupid to say no, and even stupider to fall in love. 

Excerpt 

Copyright 2021 Allie York

I have to look like a freaking fish, opening and closing my mouth over and over. Brown hair, hazel eyes, that face that not even time can make me forget. “Holy shit! Sebbie?” Talk about a blast from the past. I look the man in front of me up and down. The last time I saw Sebastian Keller, he was eighteen, gangly, and had acne, and I was madly in love with him. The Seb in front of me is definitely not a kid anymore. He’s at least six-foot with a chiseled jaw for days and is rocking the gray sweatpants like a porn star. There’s definitely dick print there. And I’m not unimpressed. Oh, my god, stop looking at his junk.

“Stevie. Wow.” He breaks our mutual silence, and my eyes snap up from perusing his body. Face. Yes. Focus on his face. Hazel eyes, a little stubble, a swoop of dark hair on his forehead. Yup. Still Seb standing there. I take stock of the features one more time just to be sure and come to the same conclusion. Sebastian is my delivery, and time was good to this man. He grew up real nice. He’s checking me out too, but like a gentleman: he’s staring at my face, those eyes I know so well searching my face for something. I think back to right before I got out of my car and try to figure out what he sees right now. My eye makeup was on point at the beginning of the night, but I’ve worked a whole shift at the coffee shop and delivered ten meals since then. My hair is… I probably shouldn’t think about it. The ponytail it started in is probably lopsided and messy, but nothing I can do about it now.

“I take it this is your dinner since you’re in front of the only penthouse I see?” I offer the food and hold it between us. After way too long, he takes it very slowly like he may spook me if he moves too fast. The way my heart is hammering tells me this might be true.

“Yeah. Thanks.” His hand wraps around the bag, and I scope it for a ring. Nothing. Interesting. We keep staring at each other, and my hand falls uselessly to my side. “Do you want to come in?” As soon as he says it, Seb’s brows furrow like he’s surprised himself.

“I, uh, no. I don’t want to bother you.” I shake my head and take a step back. I am not emotionally stable enough for this, and I’m not wearing lipstick.

“Right. You’re working. Sorry.” Seb winces, or tries to smile, I can’t tell.

“No, you’re it. For now.” Good job, Stevie, now you don’t have an excuse to leave.

“Then come in for a second. I’m starving and need to sit down after that run. I can’t believe you’re here.” Then I get a real smile and know for sure that this sexy man in front of me is the same Seb from my childhood. That smile does the same thing now that it did fifteen years ago. My face gets hot, and I chew my bottom lip.

“Yeah. Okay. Just for a second.” I nod, trying to figure out why I just agreed to this. I smell like fried food, dogs, and coffee. Not a good combo, and I’m sure I look as tired as I am, but my stupid feet don’t get the memo, and they do the opposite of what my rational brain is saying. Seb tips his head for me to follow him in.

About Allie York

Allie is a mom and domestic canine appearance technician by day and an author by night. She loves all things nerdy, strong coffee, and cozy mysteries. If there’s a fandom to be in, she’s probably in it and has a soft spot for happily ever afters. 

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