Share the Moon
Sometimes trust is the toughest lesson to learn.
Sophie Shaw is days away from signing a contract that will fulfill her dream of owning a vineyard. For her, it’s a chance to restart her life and put past tragedies to rest. But Duncan Jamieson’s counter offer blows hers out to sea.
Duncan still finds Sophie as appealing as he had during boyhood vacations to the lake. Older and wiser now, he has his own reasons for wanting the land. His offer, however, hinges on a zoning change approval.
Bribery rumors threaten the deal and make Sophie wary of Duncan, yet she cannot deny his appeal. When her journalistic research uncovers a Jamieson family secret, trust becomes the hardest lesson for them both.
BUY: Amazon | Barnes&Noble | iBooks | Kensington | Kobo | Google
Acclaim for Sharon's work....
"Struth has a gift for layering stories within stories while keeping them all connected."--Library Journal
"Sharon Struth writes a good story about love and loss. She knows her characters and has a path she wants them to take."--Eye on Romance
"Heart-tugging small town romance with real emotion. Struth is an author to watch!"--Laura Drake, author of RITA-award winning The Sweet Spot
"Superb… throw in a hunky dad, a small town and a savvy heroine who gets the job done and you've got me hooked!"--Rachel Brimble, author of A Man like Him
A traffic jam blocked the intersection below. A driver attempted to make a left hand turn from the far right lane. Right now, her emotions were in the dead center of an internal jam, confused by the unexpected turns of Duncan Jamieson. She wished Gabby were here instead of her.
Awareness of his presence from behind fell over her, followed by the waft of his familiar cologne.
“Gorgeous view, huh?” His softer, less businesslike voice landed near her ear.
“Lovely.” Her peripheral vision caught him close enough to touch yet far enough away to be appropriate.
“Especially over there.” He pointed at the horizon and his arm brushed her shoulder.
She followed his finger and noted a space in the distance, where dots of evergreen added color to leafless treetops. His arm returned to his side, but an invisible impression where he’d grazed her shoulder remained.
His tone dipped, quiet enough to be a thought he didn’t intend to say out loud.
“Reminds me that my new home in Northbridge isn’t far away.”
The motives for his closeness left her suspicious. “Well, Connecticut’s the third smallest state in the nation.” She took a step to the side and faced him. “You can pretty much see everything if you stand dead center.”
He provided a pity grin to her stupid remark.
She vowed not to say one more sarcastic thing for the rest of this meeting.