By Vicki Hinze
"[A} smart fusion of humor, secret, and romance." - Publishers Weekly"Powerful and uplifting." - Literary TimesWhimsy. Serenity. And a marginally of Magic. The Seascape lodge. advertising government Maggie Wright and artist T.J. MacGregor are associated via a mysterious automobile twist of fate that killed Maggie's cousin, Carolyn, T.J.'s fiancée. whilst Maggie arrives at the Maine coast made up our minds to get solutions from T.J., she discovers a tortured guy who's sure to the Seascape hotel through supernatural forces. regardless of the tragedy that stands among them, Maggie and T.J. start to fall in love, looking solutions and a therapeutic spirit they could by no means in attaining. Vicki Hinze is the award-winning writer of 24 novels, four nonfiction books and enormous quantities of articles, released in as many as sixty-three nations. She is well-known by means of who is Who on this planet as an writer and as an educator. stopover at her at vickihinze.com.
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Additional info for Beyond the Misty Shore
Ridiculous. J. a favor. J. J. to come. J. insisted on paying for the favor. A man capable of that kind of caring wouldn’t be involved in anything shady. Would he? He might. J. was in trouble. But what world-class artist who couldn’t paint wouldn’t be in trouble? J. having lost his fiancée. Loss could do terrible things to a man’s mind. J. was living up at Seascape wasn’t helping either. Keeping himself locked in the Carriage House, sitting on the cliffs and staring at the ocean for hours on end...
That familiar veil of freezing mist blanketed him. Those hated, icy fingers of cold applied pressure to the hollow at his shoulder. Dread punched into his stomach and warning spots flashed before his eyes. ” Clipping only air, he swung again and again. His head grew lighter and lighter, his vision dimmer and dimmer. His chest throbbed. Oxygen-starved, his lungs burned and ached. He struggled to gasp, but couldn’t find air. Fought hard, then harder, but the unseen demon wouldn’t let go. His strength drained.
She’d known that if she ever saw him again, he wouldn’t. They’d only seen each other once, at Carolyn’s funeral. They hadn’t spoken, and Maggie had being wearing the traditional black mourning veil. There was something positively galling in that the man had occupied so many of her thoughts, so much of her time in the past two years, and yet he didn’t know her from Adam. ” He shoved the hangers down from near his chin so he could look at her without dumping the armload of clothing onto her head.
Beyond the Misty Shore by Vicki Hinze