Harvest Moon. Sharon Struth
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Cover Copy
Getting past the librarian’s guard…
Trent Jamieson isn’t one for virtual romance, but there’s something about the intriguing woman he meets on the Internet he can’t resist. Then the small town bachelor discovers the mystery woman who shares her secrets with him online is the laced-up librarian in his self-defense class! Veronica Sussingham may just be his toughest student yet. Because how can he show the vulnerable beauty that some men are worth letting your guard down for?
Veronica returned to her hometown seeking shelter for her shattered spirit. The last thing she needs is a blue-eyed charmer who wants to show her how to live—and love—again. Then she discovers Trent is not just another admirer, but a man who knows her deepest secrets. Now Veronica must choose between running from her past—or finding future happiness with the kind of man she swore she’d never fall for….
“Struth has a gift for layering stories within stories while keeping them all connected.”
--Library Journal
“Struth is an author to watch!”
--Laura Drake, author of RITA-award winner The Sweet Spot
“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
Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com
Books by Sharon Struth
Blue Moon Lake Series
Share the Moon
Harvest Moon
Bella Luna
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Harvest Moon
A Blue Moon Lake Romance
Sharon Struth
LYRICAL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2015 by Sharon Struth
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First Electronic Edition: December 2015
eISBN-13: 978-1-61650-647-6
eISBN-10: 1-61650-647-4
First Print Edition: December 2015
ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-648-3
ISBN-10: 1-61650-648-2
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
To my beautiful and inspiring daughters, Nicole and Katie—whose interruptions into my writing cave really are a welcome break from my work. Or do you really come in to see the dog?
Acknowledgements
Never did I dream that when my first essay was published, six years later I’d be writing words of appreciation for my third novel. One word keeps playing in my mind as I consider my journey. Thankful.
There are so many people to thank for this book and my entire journey. I’ll start with Dawn Dowdle of the Blue Ridge Literary Agency, my fabulous agent, who works tirelessly for her authors and has given all of us a family-like atmosphere at her agency.
Thank you to Kensington Publishing/Lyrical press for believing in my series, bringing to life the town of Northbridge and all the great fictional folks who live there. A special nod of gratitude to my editor, Paige Christian, whose editing eyes are a saving grace.
To my adorable husband, your support goes a long way, baby! A thousand thanks!
To my mother…you are the best salesman an author could ask for.
To Linda Chiara, your encouragement made me believe in myself and I cannot thank you enough.
To Terri-Lynne DeFino, thank you for your friendship, being there when I need you, and your honest advice on this novel.
To my wonderful critique partner, Rachel Brimble, thanks for all the insights that helped this novel come to life and Diane Rondeau Bator for all the insghts on self-defense and your beta read of the book.
To my RWA Chapter—the best group of friends a writer could ask for.
And close friends…your constant support is immeasurable.
Chapter 1
Three things shine before the world and cannot be hidden. They are the moon, the sun, and the truth…-Buddha
If Veronica Sussingham believed in signs—which she didn’t—this was the second one today suggesting she crawl back under the covers and avoid the world. She stood at the doorway and stared at the bed, too stunned to speak.
She drew in a calming breath. “Come on, Boomer. Can’t you ever give me a break?”
The two-year-old Newfoundland lifted his eyes while his full tail swished against the patterned quilt. He continued to chew the near-shredded tag dangling off Veronica’s brand new silk blouse. The expensive fabric bunched like a ball in his large black paws, and the same slobbery drool resting on his neck also soaked the blouse. Last week’s half-eaten electric bill and torn-to-shreds Sunday news was proof the dog had a paper fetish. But a clothing tag?
She marched closer, attempting a stern expression.
Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. He avoided her gaze. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she spotted a grin on his snout.
“Drop it.”
Boomer released the tattered tag, and it fell on her bed. At least the training they’d taken last year wasn’t a total waste. He hopped down with a thud and headed for the door, the nails of his large paws clicking