The Virgin Mistress
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Оглавление
Linda Turner. The Virgin Mistress
JOE COLTON’S JOURNAL
About the Author
The Virgin Mistress. Linda Turner
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Отрывок из книги
Well my birthday celebration sure was explosive! It’s not every day that the guest of honor is the target for murder! Now I’ve hired the best there is—P.I. Austin McGrath—to investigate this atrocity. But I never imagined that Austin’s involvement would result in a budding romance with my fragile foster daughter, Rebecca. She’s had a real traumatic past and is afraid to let anyone get close. Especially a ladies’ man like Austin. But he’s not as cavalier as he appears. I see the pain in his eyes. He’s brooding over something—but what? Maybe between the two of them, these lost souls will find solace in each other’s arms. And though it won’t be easy, stranger things have happened. Speaking of strange, Meredith sure is acting more bizarre with each Pacific sunset. I’m beginning to worry that there’s something wrong with my wife—and that the future of the entire Colton dynasty could be in jeopardy….
was thrilled when she was asked to write the second book in THE COLTONS series. “I love these kinds of stories—the more complicated the better. And THE COLTONS series was of special interest because of Patsy and Meredith. I, too, have an identical twin sister, and in the not-too-distant past, we traded places, both at work and at school, and no one knew the difference until we identified ourselves. Of course, we never went so far as to trick boyfriends or husbands, and there wasn’t a good twin and a bad one, but we still had fun.” She says that Patsy was especially interesting to write because she’s so close to the edge—sort of like Cruella DeVille, only worse. Linda loved the scenes with both her and Meredith.
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And then there were the kids—Emily, Joe Junior, and Teddy. Austin supposed he could hardly call Emily a child anymore. Adopted by Joe and Meredith when she was just a toddler, she was now eighteen and a sweet, pretty, self-possessed young woman. Her brothers, however, weren’t nearly as mature. Nine and seven respectively, Joe Junior and Teddy were both good-looking boys and growing like weeds. And much to their discomfort, they were the apple of their mother’s eye. She watched over their every move, fussing over them until they both squirmed. “Don’t slouch, Joe. Teddy, eat your vegetables. You know you can’t have cake later if you don’t clean your plate.”
“Geez, Mom!”
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