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Discovering You
Brenda Novak
Can she ever trust another “bad boy”?
India Sommers once had the perfect family—until an ex-boyfriend broke in and shot her husband. Not only did that cost her the man she loved, a respected heart surgeon and the father of her child, but she also feels responsible. Charlie died because of the people she hung out with before she had the strength to change her life.
Just after moving to Whiskey Creek with her little girl, Cassia, to start over, she’s learned that her ex-boyfriend’s trial ended in a hung jury. He’s getting out of jail; he could try to find her again. And that’s not all that scares her. She’s extremely attracted to her next-door neighbor, but Rod Amos is the handsome “bad boy” type that’s given her so much trouble in the past. If she got involved with him, her in-laws would sue for custody of Cassia.
India has to keep her distance from Rod—but the more she gets to know him, the more difficult that becomes.
Praise for the Whiskey Creek novels of New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak (#u078a007a-7f7f-5d5c-a636-6cbe4bf43d1f)
“Another Whiskey Creek novel is just what readers need to satisfy their craving for a romance that tugs at the heartstrings.”
—RT Book Reviews on A Winter Wedding, Top Pick
“[This Heart of Mine] had such beautiful details that it captured my full attention—and had me sniffling and smiling while waiting to board my plane.”
—First for Women
“This Heart of Mine is a potently emotional, powerfully
life-affirming contemporary romance that can be read and enjoyed on its own, but it also serves as an excellent addition to Novak’s popular Whiskey Creek series.”
—Booklist, starred review
“Another engrossing addition to Novak’s addictive series.”
—Library Journal on This Heart of Mine, starred review
“Novak’s Whiskey Creek novels are a favorite among romance readers because of their small-town charm… Novak never disappoints.”
—RT Book Reviews on This Heart of Mine, Top Pick
“Once again Novak’s Whiskey Creek springs to life in all its realistic, gritty Gold Country glory as two determined, likable people come to terms with their pasts and give love a chance. This poignant, heartfelt romance puts a refreshing spin on the classic reunion/secret baby theme.”
—Library Journal on Come Home to Me
“One needn’t wonder why Novak is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. Just read Come Home to Me.”
—Examiner.com
“The Whiskey Creek series is an absolute delight and this newest installment is…so satisfying I ran out of superlatives. Brenda Novak outdid herself in Take Me Home for Christmas.”
—Fresh Fiction
“It’s steamy, it’s poignant, it’s perfectly paced—it’s When Lightning Strikes and you don’t want to miss it.”
—USATODAY.com’s Happy Ever After blog
Discovering You
Brenda Novak
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
To Kay Myers, who read my very first book
before it ever came out and told me it was good.
Dear Reader (#u078a007a-7f7f-5d5c-a636-6cbe4bf43d1f),
Dylan Amos is probably my favorite character in all of Whiskey Creek, so it is with great pleasure that I return to his family to write about another one of his sexy brothers. There’s just something special about a family of rugged men who’ve managed to pull together in the face of adversity. The Amoses are tough, able to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. I love that they have a hard edge to them, because, as much as they may not want to admit it, they also have soft hearts (way down deep). I think Rodney rises to the occasion when he meets his beautiful new neighbor, who so desperately needs his friendship and support. Only he would be right for her. I hope you’ll agree.
If you’re just starting the series, don’t worry. The books are written to stand alone, so you won’t be lost jumping in at any point. And if you’d like to go back to the beginning and catch up, I have a list of the books in order on my website at brendanovak.com (http://www.brendanovak.com). There’s even a pdf you can download and take to the bookstore (or use to order online).
Next up, I’ll be veering away from Whiskey Creek for a bit with the publication of The Secrets She Kept, my second Fairham Island book. It’ll be released at the end of July, but if you join my mailing list at brendanovak.com (http://www.brendanovak.com), I’ll send you an email whenever I have a book coming out. At brendanovak.com (http://www.brendanovak.com), you’ll also be able to enter monthly drawings, contact me with comments or questions or join my fight to find a cure for diabetes by purchasing a copy of Love That! Brenda Novak’s Every Occasion Cookbook (with Jan Coad). My youngest son has this disease. Thanks to the support of so many, I’ve been able to raise $2.5 million for the cause so far (which has gone to both JDRF and the DRI).
Best wishes always,
Brenda Novak
Contents
Cover (#u2591e6f1-4f70-5033-a64d-a11b4b90fa2f)
Back Cover Text (#u929b0058-eb7d-5ef8-b219-b0ef3400b72a)
Praise
Title Page (#ufdf6b54c-35d0-5ba8-af88-910db575dfa9)
Dedication (#u2dc49736-5f3a-5384-9cd3-1513c472d6c0)
Dear Reader
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
1 (#u078a007a-7f7f-5d5c-a636-6cbe4bf43d1f)
There was a bloody man walking down the middle of the road.
India Sommers’s heart leaped into her throat the moment her headlights fell on the tall, lean figure. Had she been more familiar with the area, she might’ve come racing around the bend in her quiet Prius and accidentally mowed him down, but he didn’t seem to give a damn about the danger. He looked too angry to care. And judging by his rumpled clothes, she thought she could guess why. This guy had been in a fight.
He seemed determined to flag her down. But she’d seen enough violence to recognize that he was no helpless victim, which made her far less sympathetic to whatever he needed than she might otherwise have been.
She started to slow; she didn’t want to hit him. But neither was she willing to leave herself vulnerable. She was alone on a winding road in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and she’d moved to Gold Country only this week. She hadn’t had a chance to meet more than a handful of people. For all she knew, this man could be some kind of crazed lunatic who’d just committed murder!
He looked menacing, with his hands curled into fists and his jaw set as if he’d like to take another swing at someone.
Who had he tangled with already?
She edged to the right so she could squeeze past him. Once it seemed safe, she planned to punch the gas pedal and get out of there. Whatever he’d been involved in, she wanted no part of it. Since she’d been using GPS to get home from the art show she’d attended in another town, she had her cell phone in the passenger seat. She’d call the police as soon as she was well away, so she wouldn’t leave him stranded, and be done with this.
But the minute she slowed and he started to approach, she recognized him. It was her neighbor! She’d seen him out with his brothers, throwing a football the day she moved in. The three of them—all equally tall, dark and muscular—had even hauled her potter’s wheel into the screened-in porch at the back of her house, where she’d decided to work through the summer.
Although still a little reluctant to stop, she couldn’t just drive off, not if her neighbor needed help. So she stepped on the brake, and Rod—she remembered his name because he was the type of man a woman wouldn’t easily forget—came to the side of the car.
A chill ran through her as he waited for her to lower the window. Was she a fool for trusting him? Just because he lived next door didn’t make him safe, especially if he was high on something. And even if she could normally outrun him, which wasn’t likely, she was wearing a long dress and heels.
Cursing her desire to be helpful and polite, which occasionally overrode her good sense, she pressed the button.
“It’s you,” he said as soon as they no longer had a barrier of glass between them.
“Yes.” She wasn’t sure he remembered her name, so she added it. “India Sommers.”
“Right. My new neighbor. Listen, India, I need you to call the cops.”
He seemed quite matter-of-fact. She didn’t get the impression that he intended to drag her out of the driver’s seat and into the woods—or steal her purse or her Prius. But she’d been correct when she guessed he’d been in a fight. His knuckles were scraped.
“What happened?” she asked.
He wiped the drop of blood that was running from his mouth. “Some bastard got out of line.”
And Rod had put him back in line? Where was that bastard?
Butterflies danced in India’s belly as she squinted to see down the road, as far into the darkness as she could. “Where is this person?”
“Back that way.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
The other guy hadn’t driven off? Why? “Is he seriously injured?”
Rod stretched his fingers, as if his hand hurt. “Probably not seriously, but he’s out cold.”
