When the game is deception, nothing is as it seems in this novel of cunning psychological suspense by the #1 Amazon Charts bestselling author of I’ll Never Tell.
Do you want to play a game?
Twelve years ago Jessica Williams escaped a cult. Thanks to the private detective who rescued her, she reintegrated into society, endured an uncomfortable notoriety, and tried to put it all behind her. Then, at an airport bar, Jessica meets a woman with an identical name and birth date. It appears to be just an odd coincidence—until a week later, when Jessica finds her bank account drained and her personal information stolen.
Following a trail of the grifter’s victims, each with the same name, Jessica gathers players—one by one—for her own game. According to her plan, they’ll set a trap and wait for the impostor to strike again. But plans can go awry, and trust can fray, and as Jessica tries to escape the shadows of her childhood, the risks are greater than she imagined. Now, confronting the casualties of her past, Jessica can’t help but wonder…
Who will pay the price?
Review
Jessica Williams has been robbed in a clever scheme. She is just not going to stand for this. Jessica begins an intricate plan to get her money back.
Jessica has a unique past. She was raised in a cult, LOT or The Land of Todd. This part of the book is fascinating. It adds so much to the story and the characters.
As this story began to unfold, I was afraid of all the “Jessica’s”… there are quite a few in this tale. I hate it when an author names a character very similar to another main character. So, I thought this would not work for me. But, Catherine McKenzie did a fabulous job. You will have to read this to see how she did it.
Catherine McKenzie just keeps getting better and better. This is her best book yet! No doubt about it! I love an unpredictable story and this one just keeps twisting and turning. Just when you think you have it figured out, it twists again.
I received this novel from the publisher for a honest review.
Actress (The Good Wife and Law and Order SVU, to name a few), Writer, Director and Multiple Award-Winning Audiobook Narrator. She has recorded over 400 titles of all genres for various publishers. She can be seen in an upcoming episode of Virgin River on Netflix soon. Thérèse has narrated all 20 books in the Virgin River (by Robyn Carr) series and voiced every single character in each book (men, women and children)!
Thérèse Plummer won the 2019 Audie Award for her work on the multicast, Sadie by Courtney Summers for Macmillan Audio, and was nominated for the Multicast Any Man by Amber Tamblyn for Harper Audio and her solo narration for The Rogue: Planets Shakenby Lee W. Brainard for Podium Publishing. The American Library Association (ALA) awarded her work on Sourdough by Robin Sloan as part of the 2018 Listen List: Outstanding Audiobook Narration for Adult Listeners. Thérèse has been nominated for 5 Audie Awards in 2018 and won for her Multicast narration for Penguin RandomHouse’s production of See You In the Cosmos by Jack Cheng. She was named AudioFile’s Best Voices of the Year in 2015 for her work on Robyn Carr’s A New Hope. Thérèse is the voice of Maya Hansen in the Marvel Graphic Motion Comic Ironman Extremis, Dr. Fennel in Pokemon and for various Yu-Gi-Oh characters. Television Guest Star Roles on The Good Wife, Law and Order SVU and Virgin River for Netflix. Regional Theatre: Sister James in Doubt. Learn more at www.thereseplummer.com
During these uncertain times, mindfulness is key to sustaining social distancing and what better way to escape the news than to get lost in a classic or try out a new release? What is more, there are many services out there right now that are offering free audiobooks and subscription services!
One size fits all, they are easily portable (in your phone!), and you can listen while doing something else: driving, in the tub, working out, cooking the big meal, etc. Here are a few of my top picks for this summer reading/listening season:
Virgin River by Robyn Carr (Also on Netflix)
The Jetsetters by Amandaa Eyre Ward
Charlotte’s Web by E.B. Webb
The Country Guesthouse by Robyn Carr
Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson
Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo
The Baker’s Secret by Stephen P. Kiernan
Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey
How to Walk Away by Katherine Center
The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom
Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi
The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes
All This Could Be Yours by Jami Attenburg
Some Sing Some Cry by Ntozake Shange, Ifa Bayeza
There’s a Word for That by Sloane Tanen
TALKING POINTS
How storytelling saved her life and has helped so many others: from the characters who have impacted Thérèse to the heartwarming stories of how her narration has made a difference to listeners (she receives fan mail from veterans with PTSD and family members of the blind, among others).
In such an expanding media landscape, very little is often known about the actors who bring audiobooks to life. A behind-the-scenes look at narration (going from man to woman, from English to Irish at a moment’s notice.)
The market for audiobook listeners keeps rising. When we listen to a book (the rise of audiobooks might have to do with busy lives/ long commutes/ multitasking), we are still allowed to use our imagination to create the characters or the setting in our heads, unlike with watching movies.
A voice can make or break a story.
Bringing a character to life, that you can only hear, is such a different experience than using your whole body (Thérèse is both a physical actor and voice actor). Thérèse has had guest spots on shows like Law & Order, and The Good Wife. (She’s had to learn accents and do sex scenes for audiobook narration.)
Her mom was a librarian that got her hooked on reading books as a child; her dad was an actor who used accents while cooking in the kitchen–she combined inspiration from both parents to form a career as an audiobook narrator.
Audiobooks: is it still reading (or is it listening)? Which senses do we use?
PRAISE
“Therese Plummer has become one of the continuing characters in my series with her magnificent acting and powerful characterization. It didn’t take long before my readers started looking for books she narrates. She is the voice of my heart.” – Robyn Carr, author of the Virgin River Series
“Plummer expertly mines the depth of emotion of each family member, and her portrayal of Maggie is a tour de force.” –Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award, Audiofile May 2015: The Meaning of Maggie by Megan Jean Sovern
“Plummer’s skill with varied voices and accents is without equal. She navigates Fitzgerald’s glamorous world with panache, immersing the listener in the intense characters personalities.” —AudioFile January 2015: Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Thérèse Plummer’s buttery voice conveys the warmth in this Romance. Plummer’s rich narration captures the familial qualities of the tight-knit community while offering a versatility of male, female and children’s character voices.” –AudioFile August 2014: The Promise Thunder Point Book 5 by Robyn Carr
In 1971, the fictional city of Bellport, Massachusetts is in decline with an urban redevelopment project on the horizon. The project promises to transform the dying factory town into a thriving economic center, with a profound effect on its residents. Sydney Stallworth steps away her law degree in order to support her husband Malachi’s dream of opening a cultural center and bookstore in the heart of their black community, Liberty Hill. Across the street, Della Tolliver has built a fragile sanctuary for herself, boyfriend Kwamé Rodriguez, and daughter Jasmine, a troubled child prone to frequent outbursts.
Six blocks away and across the Bellport River Bridge lies Petite Africa, a lively neighborhood, where time moves slower and residents spill from run-down buildings onto the streets. Here Omar Bassari, an immigrant from Senegal known to locals as Drummer Man, dreams of being the next Duke Ellington, spreading his love of music and African culture across the world, even as his marriage crumbles around him and his neighborhood goes up in flames. An arsonist is on the loose. As more buildings burn, the communities are joined together and ripped apart. In Petite Africa, a struggling community fights for their homes, businesses, and culture. In Liberty Hill, others see opportunity and economic growth. As the pace of the suspicious fires pick up, the demolition date moves closer, and plans for gentrification are laid out, the residents find themselves at odds with a political system manipulating their lives. “It’s a shame,” says Malachi, after a charged city council meeting, where residents of Petite Africa and Liberty Hill sit on opposing sides. “We do so much for Petite Africa. But still, we fight.”
The former Nathaniel Hawthorne Boot Factory, was on Atlantic Avenue on the banks of the Bellport River.
It was a five-story brick and stone structure with a flat roof and a clock tower that chimed on the hour. The old building housed a daycare and provided space for artist studios and community meetings. The cafetorium was where the Liberty Hill Neighborhood Association met monthly. Today, city po-lice and firefighters had the space for a briefing on the fires in Petite Africa.
When Sydney and Malachi arrived, the room was nearly full. Sydney noted a seating pattern based on people’s attire. Petite Africa people sat left of the center aisle, and Liberty Hill people were on the right. Onstage were Mayor Chauncey McShane, Fire Chief Patrick O’Connell, and Police Chief Francis Toler-ico. To their right was Petite Africa resident and restaurant owner Mustapha Mendy. Sydney had seen his picture in the newspapers. Mendy appeared to be in his late sixties, bony, with heavy bags under his eyes and grey, coiled hair and beard.
At the back of the room were tables filled with toiletries, blankets, stuffed animals, and canned goods. Sydney picked up a can of corned beef. “What is all of this for?”
“The Neighborhood Improvement Association’s Relief Ef-fort,” Malachi replied. “Whenever there’s a fire or we find out about a needy family, people go shopping or bring things from home. Then they come here and put together care packages.”
the talking drum 79
“We should go through our things to see if we can donate anything.”
Malachi grinned. “As stuffed as your closets are, I’m sure you’d find something.”
Sydney playfully poked him in the side. “I could say the same for you.”
She spotted Kwamé, dressed in a grey, pin-striped three-piece suit. He swaggered as he worked his way down the aisle, shaking people’s hands and clapping men on the back. His smile broadened as he strolled over to them. “Glad you two could make it,” he said.
Sydney told him about her assignment to report on the meeting for Inner City Voice.
“Cool. So that worked out for you,” Kwamé said. “Max is good people.”
“Looks like you’ve got a full house,” Malachi stated, looking around.
Kwamé nodded, and puffed out his chest. “We did what we had to to get the word out. I’ve been telling the mayor for weeks he needed to have one of these. I said, ‘Mayor, my man, we can’t keep people in the dark. It’s not fair to them. Lives are in jeopardy. They need to know what’s going on’.”
Sydney rolled her eyes. More big talk from Kwamé, she thought. She and Malachi found two chairs near the back of the room by the tables of donations. “I’m sure Kwamé’s inflating his level of influence with the mayor or making up the story entirely,” she said.
“Not now,” Malachi whispered, tightness in his voice. She pulled her camera out of its case. As she took out her
reporter’s notebook and a pencil, a hand grabbed her shoulder. It was Max sitting in the row behind her. “I didn’t tell you I was going to show up because I didn’t want you to get nervous,” he said in a loud whisper. “Just pretend I’m not here. If you need anything, you’ll know where to find me.” He got up and took a seat near the front of the room. She appreciated that. This
AUTHOR BIO
Lisa Braxton is an Emmy-nominated former television journalist, an essayist, short story writer, and novelist. She is a fellow of the Kimbilio Fiction Writers Program and was a finalist in the William Faulkner-William Wisdom Creative Writing Competition. She earned her MFA in creative writing from Southern New Hampshire University, her M.S. in journalism from Northwestern University, and her B.A. in Mass Media from Hampton University. Her stories have been published in anthologies and literary journals. She lives in the Boston, Massachusetts area. www.lisabraxton.com
From the author of The Salt House and This Is Homecomes a profound novel about the power of community and a small town’s long-buried secrets as a group of New England islanders come together for a recently orphaned girl.
On Ichabod Island, a jagged strip of land thirteen miles off the coast of Massachusetts, ten-year-old Sky becomes an orphan for the second time after a tragic accident claims the lives of her adoptive parents.
Grieving the death of his best friends, Leo’s life is turned upside down when he finds himself the guardian of young Sky. Back on the island and struggling to balance his new responsibilities and his marriage to his husband, Leo is supported by a powerful community of neighbors, many of them harboring secrets of their own.
Maggie, who helps with Sky’s childcare, has hit a breaking point with her police chief husband, who becomes embroiled in a local scandal. Her best friend Agnes, the island busybody, invites Sky’s estranged grandmother to stay for the summer, straining already precarious relationships. Their neighbor Joe struggles with whether to tell all was not well in Sky’s house in the months leading up to the accident. And among them all is a mysterious woman, drawn to Ichabod to fulfill a dying wish.
Perfect for fans of Celeste Ng and Ann Leary, My Kind of People is a riveting, impassioned novel about the resilience of community and what connects us all in the face of tragedy.
Review
Sky’s adopted parents have been killed in a tragic car crash. So she is an orphan for a second time. Leo becomes Sky’s guardian. It takes the whole community to come together to help Leo and Sky.
Sky is a child which tore up my heart! She has had such a tragic life but that has not stopped her from being caring, and respectful. Then there is Leo! Oh, what a great guy! He takes Sky in at risk of his marriage and does his best to give her the love she needs. Plus, there is more to Sky’s story than what the reader is lead to believe.
On top of these great characters and this fantastic story is this setting. I had never heard of Ichabod Island but it is now on my bucket list!
To say I loved this book is an understatement! I devoured this story. I read it in one day and I have already purchased Lisa Duffy’s The Salt House.
Southern culture … old friendships … family tragedy.
One phone call from Renny to come home and “see about” the capricious Ava, and Celia Wakefield decides to overlook her distressful past in the name of friendship.
For three reflective days at Renny’s lake house in Heber Springs, Arkansas, the three childhood friends reunite and examine life, love, marriage, and the ties that bind, even though Celia’s personal story has yet to be healed. When the past arrives at the lake house door in the form of her old boyfriend, Celia must revisit the life she’d tried to outrun.
As her idyllic coming of age alongside her best friend, Little Tea, on her family’s ancestral grounds in bucolic Como, Mississippi unfolds, Celia realizes there is no better place to accept her own story than in this circle of friends who have remained beside her throughout the years. Theirs is a friendship that can talk any life sorrow into a comic tragedy, and now that the racial divide in the Deep South has evolved, Celia wonders if friendship can triumph over history.
Review
Three childhood friends, Renny, Ava and Celia, decide to get together after 10 years. They come together at a lake house in Arkansas. When Celia’s old boyfriend shows up, these ladies have to face some issues of the past. Will their lifelong friendship survive?
I adored the setting of this book. I live here! Ever place in this book I know. I am from outside of Memphis in a small southern town. And this author talks about a town very similar to mine plus, all the familiar areas of Memphis. She nailed it. She also nailed southern culture without making any of the characters seem stupid! Kudos! But, it is a little wordy in places. It also slows down in spots. But, that is minor compared to the wonderful characters and the southern culture.
This is a marvelous tale about friendships, love and family. Grab your copy today!
I received a copy from the publisher for a honest review.
About The Author:
Claire Fullerton hails from Memphis, TN. and now lives in Malibu, CA. She is the author of Mourning Dove, a coming of age, Southern family saga set in 1970’s Memphis. Mourning Dove is the winner of the 2018 Literary Classics Words on Wings Award, First in Category of the 2018 Somerset Awards for Literary Fiction by Chanticleer Reviews, the 2018 Bronze Medal winner in Southern Fiction by Readers’ Favorite, the 2018 Independent Publishers’ Book Award silver medal winner in regional fiction (southeast), the 2019 Selah Award for women’s contemporary fiction, a finalist in the Independent Authors Network Literary/General Fiction category, and listed in the Faulkner Society, William Wisdom competition as a semi-finalist. Mourning Dove is a bonus book for April, 2019 by the Pulpwood Queens Book Club. Claire is the author of Dancing to an Irish Reel, set in Connemara, Ireland, and A Portal in Time set in Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA. She contributed to the book, A Southern Season, with her novella, Through an Autumn Window. She is represented by Julie Gwinn of The Seymour Literary Agency. https://www.clairefullerton.com/
From New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis comes a friends-to-frenemies-to-lovers story… Add in a few secrets. Shake. Stir. Then read on a lazy summer day at the beach…
Brynn Turner desperately wishes she had it together, but her personal life is like a ping-pong match that’s left her scared and hurt after so many attempts to get it right. In search of a place to lick her wounds and get a fresh start, she heads back home to Wildstone.
And then there’s Kinsey Davis, who after battling serious health issues her entire twenty-nine years of life, is tired of hoping for . . . well, anything. She’s fierce, tough, and she’s keeping more than one bombshell of a secret from Brynn — her long-time frenemy.
But then Brynn runs into Kinsey’s best friend, Eli, renewing her childhood crush. The good news: he’s still easy-going and funny and sexy as hell. The bad news: when he gets her to agree to a summer-time deal to trust him to do right by her, no matter what, she never dreams it’ll result in finding a piece of herself she didn’t even know was missing. She could have real connections, possibly love, and a future—if she can only learn to let go of the past.
As the long days of summer wind down, the three of them must discover if forgiveness is enough to grasp the unconditional love that’s right in front of them.
Review
Brynn has come back home because of a failed relationship. She is wanting to start all over with a new career and a new life. Enter her past, her youth camp past, Eli and Kinsey. Kinsey was the mean girl at camp. Brynn hated her with a passion. Eli was and still is Kinsey’s best friend. Brynn gets roped into living with these two, plus Eli’s brother Max. And boy! What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.
Kinsey has several secrets and she is determined not to let Brynn in. Kinsey has this problem with all her relationships. Kinsey is seriously ill with a kidney disease and she cannot handle getting close to anyone.
I am new to Jill Shalvis. I have followed her for years on Facebook and Twitter and she is a hoot. I have no idea why I waited so long to read her novels. Her books are funny, sarcastic, real, and emotional. And this one is one of her best! I was so caught up in these characters and I read this book in one day!
Lord have mercy! My Escapades this month has been surrounded by animals.
This has been a wild and crazy month. Basically because my animal family started to fall apart.
This sweet baby, Peanut, had some major issues. No idea how she survived 14 bladder stones. And she showed no symptoms. But she is a super hero and is still napping like a pro!
Then there is this doophus (and yes, she has earned this name!). Abby has also had a bladder stone and a cyst on her tail. And! she has not acted as well as Peanut! She is sooooo dramatic! So,I have had enough of cones and stitches.
Now! Enough about my escapades and on to the escapes!
For fans of Chanel Cleeton and Beatriz Williams, RED SKY OVER HAWAII is historical women’s fiction set in the islands during WWII. It’s the story of a woman who has to put her safety and her heart on the line when she becomes the unexpected guardian of a misfit group and decides to hide with them in a secret home in the forest on Kilauea Volcano.
The attack on Pearl Harbor changes everything for Lana Hitchcock. Arriving home on the Big Island too late to reconcile with her estranged father, all she can do is untangle the clues of his legacy, which lead to a secret property in the forest on Kilauea Volcano. America has been drawn into WWII, and amid rumors of impending invasion, the army places the islands under martial law. When they start taking away neighbors as possible sympathizers, Lana finds herself suddenly guardian to two girls, as well as accomplice to an old family friend who is Japanese, along with his son. In a heartbeat, she makes the decision to go into hiding with them all.
The hideaway house is not what Lana expected, revealing its secrets slowly, and things become even more complicated by the interest of Major Grant Bailey, a soldier from the nearby internment camp. Lana is drawn to him, too, but needs to protect her little group. With a little help from the magic on the volcano, Lana finds she can open her bruised heart to the children–and maybe to Grant.
A lush and evocative novel about doing what is right against the odds, following your heart, and what makes a family.
Excerpt
THE ROAD
December 8, 1941
WITH EVERY MILE CLOSER TO VOLCANO, THE FOG thickened, until they were driving through a forest of white gauze with the occasional branch showing through. Lana considered turning the truck around no less than forty-six times. Going back to Hilo would have been the prudent thing to do, but this was not a time for prudence. Of that she was sure. She slowed the Chevy to a crawl and checked the rearview mirror. The cage with the geese was now invisible, and she could barely make out the dog’s big black spots.
Maybe the fog would be to their advantage.
“I don’t like it here at all,” said Coco, who was smashed up next to Lana, scrawny arms folded in protest. The child had to almost yell to be heard above the chug of the motor.
Lana grabbed a blanket from the floor. “Put this over you. It should help.”
Coco shook her head. “I’m not cold. I want to go home. Can you please take us back?”
Goose bumps had formed up and down her limbs, but she was so stubborn that she had refused to put on a jacket. True, Hilo was insufferably hot, but where they were headed—four thousand feet up the mountain—the air was cold and damp and flimsy.
It had been over ten years since Lana had set foot at Kı¯lauea. Never would she have guessed to be returning under these circumstances.
Marie chimed in. “We can’t go back now, sis. And anyway, there’s no one to go back to at the moment.”
Poor Coco trembled. Lana wished she could hug the girl and tell her everything was going to be okay. But that would be a lie. Things were liable to get a whole lot worse before they got any better.
“Sorry, honey. I wish things were different, but right now you two are my priority. Once we get to the house, we can make a plan,” Lana said.
“But you don’t even know where it is,” Coco whined.
“I have a good idea.”
More like a vague notion.
“What if we don’t find it by dark? Are they going to shoot us?” Coco said.
Marie put her arm around Coco and pulled her in. “Turn off that little overactive imagination of yours. No one is going to shoot us,” she said, but threw a questioning glance Lana’s way.
“We’ll be fine,” Lana said, wishing she believed that.
The girls were not the real problem here. Of greater concern was what they had hidden in the back of the truck. Curfew was six o’clock, but people had been ordered to stay off the roads unless their travel was essential to the war. Lana hadn’t told the girls that. Driving up here was a huge risk, but she had invented a story she hoped and prayed would let them get through if anyone stopped them. The thought of a checkpoint caused her palms to break out in sweat, despite the icy air blowing in through the cracks in the floorboard.
On a good day, the road from Hilo to Volcano would take about an hour and a half. Today was not a good day. Every so often they hit a rut the size of a whiskey barrel that bounced her head straight into the roof. The continuous drizzle of the rain forest had undermined all attempts at smooth roads here. At times the ride was reminiscent of the plane ride from Honolulu. Exactly two days ago, but felt more like a lifetime.
Lana’s main worry was what they would encounter once in the vicinity of the national park entrance. With the Kı¯lauea military camp nearby, there were bound to be soldiers and roadblocks in the area. She had so many questions for her father and felt a mixed ache of sadness and resentment that he was not here to answer them. How were you so sure the Japanese were coming? Why the volcano, of all places? How are we going to survive up here? Why didn’t you call me sooner?
Coco seemed to settle down, leaning her nut-brown ringlets against her sister’s shoulder and closing her eyes. There was something comforting in the roar of the engine and the jostle of the truck. With the whiteout it was hard to tell where they were, but by all estimates they should be arriving soon.
Lana was dreaming of a cup of hot coffee when Coco sat upright and said, “I have to go tinkle.”
“Tinkle?” Lana asked.
Marie said, “She means she has to go to the bathroom.”
They drove until they found a grassy shoulder, and Lana pulled the truck aside, though they could have stopped in the middle of the road. They had met only one other vehicle the whole way, a police car that fortunately had passed by.
The rain had let up, and they all climbed out. It was like walking through a cloud, and the air smelled metallic and faintly lemony from the eucalyptus that lined the road. Lana went to check on Sailor. The dog stood up and whined, yanking on the rope around her neck, straining to be pet. Poor thing was drenched and shaking. Lana had wanted to leave her behind with a neighbor, but Coco had put up such a fuss, throwing herself onto her bed and wailing and punching the pillow, that Lana relented. Caring for the girls would be hard enough, but a hundred-and-twenty-pound dog?
“Just a bathroom stop. Is everyone okay back here?” she asked in a hushed voice. Two low grunts came from under the tarp. “We should be there soon. Remember, be still and don’t make a sound if we stop again.”
As if on cue, one of the hidden passengers started a coughing fit, shaking the whole tarp. She wondered how wise it was to subject him to this long and chilly ride, and if it might be the death of him. But the alternative was worse.
“Deep breaths…you can do it,” Lana said.
Coco showed up and hopped onto the back tire. “I think we should put Sailor inside with us. She looks miserable.”
“Whose lap do you propose she sits on?” Lana said.
Sailor was as tall as a small horse, but half as wide.
“I can sit in the back of the truck and she can come up here, then,” Coco said in all seriousness.
“Not in those clothes you won’t. We don’t need you catching pneumonia on us.”
They started off again, and ten seconds down the road, Sailor started howling at the top of her lungs. Lana felt herself on the verge of unraveling. The last thing they needed was one extra ounce of attention. The whole idea of coming up here was preposterous when she thought about it. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, but now she wondered at her sanity.
“What is wrong with that dog?” Lana said, annoyed.
Coco turned around, and Lana felt her hot breath against her arm. In the smallest of voices, she said, “Sailor is scared.”
Lana felt her heart crack. “Oh, honey, we’re all a bit scared.
It’s perfectly normal under the circumstances. But I promise you this—I will do everything in my power to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“But you hardly know us,” Coco said.
“My father knew you, and you knew him, right?” Lana said. “And remember, if anyone asks, we tell them our story.”
They had rehearsed it many times already, but with kids one could never be sure. Not that Lana had much experience with kids. With none of her own and no nieces or nephews in the islands, she felt the lack palpably, smack in the center of her chest. There had been a time when she saw children in her future, but that dream had come and gone and left her sitting on the curb with a jarful of tears.
Her mind immediately went to Buck. Strange how your future with a person could veer so far off course from how you’d originally pictured it. How the one person you swore you would have and hold could end up wreaking havoc on your heart instead. She blinked the thought away.
As they neared Volcano, the fog remained like a curtain, but the air around them brightened. Lana knew from all her time up here as a young girl that the trees got smaller as the elevation rose, and the terrain changed from towering eucalyptus and fields of yellow-and-white ginger to a more cindery terrain covered with red-blossomed ‘ohi‘a trees, and prehistoriclooking ha¯pu’u ferns and the crawling uluhe. At one time in her life, this had been one of her happiest places. Coco reached for the letter on the dashboard and began reading it for the fourth time. “Coco Hitchcock. It sounds funny.” The paper was already getting worn.
Marie swiped it out of her hands. “You’re going to ruin that. Give it to me.”
Where Coco was whip thin and dark and spirited—a nice way of putting it—Marie was blonde and full-bodied and sweet as coconut taffy. But Lana could tell even Marie’s patience was wearing thin.
“Mrs. Hitchcock said we need to memorize our new names or we’ll be shot.”
Lana said as calmly as she could, “I never said anything of the sort. And, Coco, you have to get used to calling me Aunt Lana for now. Both of you do.”
“And stop talking about getting shot,” Marie added, rolling her eyes.
If they could all just hold it together a little bit longer.
There was sweat pooling between her breasts and behind her kneecaps. Lying was not her strong suit, and she was hoping that, by some strange miracle, they could sail on through without anyone stopping them. She rolled her window down a couple of inches for a burst of fresh air. “We’re just about here. So if we get stopped, let me do the talking. Speak only if someone asks you a direct question, okay?”
Neither girl said anything; they both just nodded. Lana could almost see the fear condensing on the windshield. And pretty soon little Coco started sniffling. Lana would have said something to comfort her, but her mind was void of words. Next the sniffles turned into heaving sobs big enough to break the poor girl in half. Marie rubbed her hand up and down Coco’s back in a warm, smooth circle.
“You can cry when we get there, but no tears now,” she said.
Tears and snot were smeared across Coco’s face in one big shiny layer. “But they might kill Mama and Papa.” Her face was pinched and twisted into such anguish that Lana had to fight back a sob of her own.
Sara Ackerman is the USA Today bestselling author of The Lieutenant’s Nurse and Island of Sweet Pies and Soldiers. Born and raised in Hawaii, she studied journalism and earned graduate degrees in psychology and Chinese medicine. She blames Hawaii for her addiction to writing, and sees no end to its untapped stories. When she’s not writing or teaching, you’ll find her in the mountains or in the ocean. She currently lives on the Big Island with her boyfriend and a houseful of bossy animals. Find out more about Sara and her books at http://www.ackermanbooks.com and follow her on Instagram @saraackermanbooks and on FB @ackermanbooks.
Well! I only had one audible book this month. It was just 36 hours long. But, it was sooooo good. I love Sharon Kay Penman but her books are huge! This is the main reason I listen to her. She is an amazing writer. Her books are so well researched and she has the best characters. Grab one of her books today!
In Hannah Mary McKinnon’s psychological thriller, SISTER DEAR (MIRA Trade; May 26, 2020; $17.99), the obsession of Single White Female meets the insidiousness of You, in a twisted fable about the ease of letting in those who wish us harm, and that mistake’s dire consequences.
The day he dies, Eleanor Hardwicke discovers her father – the only person who has ever loved her – is not her father. Instead, her biological father is a wealthy Portland businessman who wants nothing to do with her and to continue his life as if she doesn’t exist. That isn’t going to work for Eleanor.
Eleanor decides to settle the score. So, she befriends his daughter Victoria, her perfect, beautiful, carefree half-sister who has gotten all of life’s advantages while Eleanor has gotten none.
As she grows closer to Victoria, Eleanor’s obsession begins to deepen. Maybe she can have the life she wants, Victoria’s life, if only she can get close enough.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
The police didn’t believe me.
A jury wouldn’t have, either, if I’d gone on trial, and most definitely not the judge. My attorney had more than a few reservations about my story. Ms. Allerton hadn’t said as much. She didn’t need to. I saw it in her eyes, could tell by the way she shuffled and reshuffled her papers, as if doing so might shake my lies clean off the pages, leaving only the truth behind in her inky, royal blue swirls.
After our first meeting I’d concluded she must’ve known early on—before she shook my hand with her icy fingers—that I was a liar. Before she’d walked into the room in shiny, four-inch heels, she’d no doubt decided she’d heard my excuses, or a variation thereof, from countless clients already. I was yet another person claiming to be innocent. Another criminal who’d remained adamant they’d done nothing wrong, it wasn’t their fault, honest, despite the overwhelming amount of evidence to the contrary, a wall of impending doom surrounding me.
And still, at the time I’d believed the only reason Ms. Allerton had taken on my case pro-bono was because of the amount of publicity it gave her firm. Reducing my sentence—for there would be one—would amplify her legacy as a hot-shot lawyer. I’d accepted her help. There was no other option. I needed her knowledge, her expertise, saw her as my final hope. I now know her motivations were something else I’d miscalculated. All hope extinguished. Game over.
If I’m being fair, the judgements Ms. Allerton and other people had made about me weren’t completely wrong. I had told lies, some, anyway. While that stripped away part of my claim to innocence, it didn’t mean I was entirely guilty. Not of the things everybody said I’d done. Things I’d had no choice but to confess to, despite that being my biggest lie of all.
But I’ll tell you the truth. The whole truth and nothing but. I’ll start at the beginning, and share everything that happened. Every last detail leading up to one fateful night. The night someone died because of me. The night I lost you, too.
I won’t expect your forgiveness. Our relationship—or lack thereof—will have gone way beyond that point. No. All I can hope for, is that my side of the story will one day help you understand why I did the things I did.
And why I have to do the things I’ve not yet done.
Hannah Mary McKinnon was born in the UK, grew up in Switzerland and moved to Canada in 2010. After a successful career in recruitment, she quit the corporate world in favor of writing, and is now the author of The Neighbors and Her Secret Son. She lives in Oakville, Ontario, with her husband and three sons, and is delighted by her twenty-second commute.
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