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LEAVING YESTERDAY
Laurel Falls #1
Zoe Dawson
Releasing on February 9, 2016
Loveswept
If you love Susan Mallery, Kristan Higgins, or Rachel
Gibson, don’t miss the start of this captivating small-town romance series!
Laurel Falls, Montana, features spectacular mountain scenery—but it takes a
rugged cowboy to convince one woman to slow down and enjoy the view.
Rafferty Hamilton doesn’t plan on putting down roots
anytime soon. With her divorce final, the hotel heiress has left Manhattan
behind to scout new locations for her family’s chain of resorts. Which is why
it’s so frustrating to be stranded in Laurel Falls while a good-looking,
slow-talking, Stetson-wearing mechanic takes his sweet time with her overheated
coupe.
A decorated vet who paid his dues in Afghanistan, Trace
Black can fix anything with an engine and get it revving—even Rafferty’s
ridiculous sports car. He’s couldn’t say the same for the knockout driver, who
looks like she’s never gripped a gear shaft in her life. Women like Rafferty
don’t usually stick around in Laurel Falls, but Trace finds himself showing her
everything his hometown has to offer before she cruises on down the road.
As the days pass, Rafferty finds herself charmed by the
pace of life and the openhearted warmth of the residents. She’s even tempted to
trust again—and it’s all thanks to Trace. He’s not the kind of guy she’s used
to falling for, but he just might be the man she needs.
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Zoe Dawson had always dreamed of becoming a
full-time romance writer, and with determination, persistence, and a little
luck that wish came true. Her other passions include traveling the world,
owning a beach house (she believes she was a mermaid in another life), and
seeing her books in movies. When she’s not writing, she’s painting or killing
virtual MMORPG monsters in World of Warcraft. She lives in North Carolina with
her two grown children and one small, furry gray cat.
EXCERPT
Rafferty
Hamilton had been running as fast as she could, but now, figuratively and
literally, she was going nowhere just as fast.
Spinning
her wheels, even in beautiful Montana, was still spinning her wheels.
She
was on the side of the road, still waiting for the tow truck after her new car
stopped working and she’d been forced to coast to the shoulder, an acrid odor
coming from the dashboard.
She’d
been tooling along, thinking how she would be checking the divorced box from
now on. No longer Mrs. Sean Duncan. For a year she’d gotten used to no more
guaranteed dates at parties and shindigs, the opera, or the theater. No more
museum jaunts or gallery openings. Now there was free time after work, meals
eaten alone, and an empty side of the bed where she’d once snuggled up to her
charming and popular husband.
Popular
with the ladies.
The
smack of betrayal—the wrenching pain that had dulled over the year adding
punch, nonetheless—blindsided her, and tears welled.
The
lying, cheating, shove-his-dick-into-any-woman-who-was-willing pig.
She
sniffed. Okay, that made her feel so much better.
The
beginning of the end had gone something like this.
“You cheated on me.”
“I need something more.”
She liked to think he whined like a petulant
child. “Something more? What is missing, Sean?”
He’d stepped up to her then. “You. You’re
missing. You don’t need me, Rafferty. That’s the bottom line. I might have an easy
time with women, but I married you. You’re always so careful, holding back.
Always doing some deal for your dad. You’re his closer, his hit woman. I’m not
really sure where I fit into your life.”
“And that translates to infidelity instead of
communication.”
He laughed harshly and looked away. “It
translates into you not being present. We’re supposed to do this together, not
live separate lives. I needed more. I went and found it.”
“Flinging your dick all over Manhattan is my
fault. Typical.”
That
confrontation conversation had happened almost a year ago. The papers were now
signed. She was no longer connected to Sean.
Sean
had accused her of being absent in both heart and home. She did travel a lot,
and those trips had increased over the year since he’d moved out of their
penthouse. She hadn’t kept the place after that.
She
had gone over it in her head so many times since she’d separated from him,
wondering how everything had gone wrong. How he could have so callously
betrayed her.
She
groaned over the soft notes of violins and French horns. Classical music played
on her dashboard receiver in the sleek, new British sports car she’d bought on
a whim when she’d left New York City five days ago on this impromptu, crazy
road trip out west. No radio and the risk of a love song to remind her that she
was no longer married.
Was
there a reason she hadn’t opened up to him? A reason she traveled more?
These
thoughts had consumed her as she’d whizzed down the highway. A small sign let
her know she had been getting close to Laurel Falls. The name sounded pretty,
probably one of those idyllic, little gems tucked away with its hominess and
wholesomeness spilling over the edges of pretty tree-lined streets and
apple-pie hospitality.
Before
she’d left the roadside motel, she’d put the top down on the snazzy blue sports
car, tying her long blond hair into a tight ponytail, leaving her long bangs to
blow around her forehead. When there hadn’t been livestock trucks trundling
along, the air had been brisk and smelled amazing.
In
the wide-open spaces of Montana, the wind always seemed to be blowing—even
sitting on the side of the road, her hair was never still. A clear backdrop of
postcard-perfect mountains rising up around her, snow still on their towering
peaks even in the middle of October when the temperature was a brisk forty-nine
degrees. She couldn’t have seen those from the air.
Now,
almost to her destination of Sanderson, Montana, she’d decided that she was out
of breath from running.
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