Spotlight
Synopsis: Playboy Ciaran Lanigan was the party. Executive Bliss Heywood was the library. When they meet, sparks fly and so begins an uncontrollable attraction that neither is strong enough to escape, regardless that it’s fraught with lies, secrets and family complexities.
But ‘party boy’ Ciaran isn’t everything he appears. Lurking beneath the surface of his charming grin is a man haunted by fears. Are they real or imagined? As he slowly reveals his past, Bliss becomes less and less sure if the man she’s involved with is unstable or truly in danger. Will she learn the truth in time to save him?
Set in the fictional town of Peregrine, Idaho, Blue Moon, the second book in the Blue Mountain Collection features the youngest Lanigan brother, Ciaran. It is both a love story and mystery, with Tess Thompson’s quirky and complex but lovable characters.
But ‘party boy’ Ciaran isn’t everything he appears. Lurking beneath the surface of his charming grin is a man haunted by fears. Are they real or imagined? As he slowly reveals his past, Bliss becomes less and less sure if the man she’s involved with is unstable or truly in danger. Will she learn the truth in time to save him?
Set in the fictional town of Peregrine, Idaho, Blue Moon, the second book in the Blue Mountain Collection features the youngest Lanigan brother, Ciaran. It is both a love story and mystery, with Tess Thompson’s quirky and complex but lovable characters.
Excerpt
After tugging the gloves over my manicured hands, I tucked the cards back into the side pocket. I’d need them later for a cocktail networking event where I would meet hundreds of people I didn’t know and didn’t especially want to know, dressed in various-hued business suits, all the while trying not to cringe when I said my name. Bliss Heywood. Bliss does not sound like the name of a CEO, a shark, a mover and shaker. Bliss is the name of an unfortunate soul born in the early seventies to a hippie mother and spineless father. Like Johnny Cash’s Boy Named Sue, I’ve spent most of my life fighting to prove I am no Bliss.
A gust of cold wind stung my ears and travelled up my skirt, the warmth of the hot yoga class I’d taken before work a distant memory. The streets of downtown Portland were narrow and congested. Buildings made of brick and concrete hinted at a simpler era when this river town was the home of rugged longshoremen working the swift waters of the Willamette. Statues of Portland’s own Beverly Cleary’s characters peppered the sidewalks: Henry and Ramona and Beezuz—all friends from my youth, when I spent a majority of time with my nose in a book. Today, despite the cold, sidewalks bustled with business people in suits and shiny shoes; young adults with piercings, tattoos and unwashed hair waiting for public transit; and mothers pushing strollers while wearing those horribly ugly comfortable leather shoes the women in the Pacific Northwest are so fond of.
I reached my office building and stopped at the foot of the stairs, searching for Sam and Sweetheart. They weren’t in their usual spot. My chest tightened as I scanned the street, suddenly feeling the cold. Had the weather driven them away? Where would they go? Were they hurt? But I needn’t have worried. They were tucked under a blanket just inside the space between the buildings, seeking shelter from the wind, no doubt. I walked toward them, reaching into my purse and pulling out a five-dollar bill from the inner zipper pocket where I kept my “Sam money.” At the beginning of every month I walked into my local bank and asked for enough cash for every business day of the month in five-dollar bills. Not knowing if it would be safe to give it to him all at once, I gave him only five dollars at a time, except for Friday when I gave him enough to carry him through the weekend.
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