By Kristin Hannah
In a stunning occupation spanning a dozen acclaimed novels, Kristin Hannah has distinct herself as an amazingly delicate author who can faucet into the inner most, most dear mysteries of the guts. in case you think is one among her best books—a undying story of 2 lonely those who witness the miracle of moment chances.Mariah Throckmorton used to be hiding from a prior jam-packed with scandal. Mad puppy Stone was once a drifter trying to find a couple of days’ paintings. He walked into her existence, threatening Mariah’s peace of brain and stirring feelings she attempted to conceal. Their love used to be born opposed to all odds, tough to expect, most unlikely to carry. jointly they'd study the bittersweet truth—that love exists provided that you suspect. . . .
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Example text
Even clean sheets wasn't worth this shit. His thumb felt like an oxcart had run over it, and his arm ached from shoulder to wrist. Yeah, he was leaving, all right. But first he was gonna have a little fun with the schoolmarm. "Naw. " Casually he got to his feet and walked toward her. She didn't move, didn't back away, but she wanted to. He could see it in the fearful flaring of her nostrils and the way she leaned slightly backward. He smelled her fear and it challenged him; it was just like when he was in the ring.
He'd learned long ago that respectable citizens didn't cotton to vagrants like him. They didn't understand a man who didn't want a white picket fence to trap him in or a steady job to pay his bills. They wanted the world to be clean, respectable, predictable. He didn't blame them or judge them. Fact was, he didn't even think about them. He just walked past them, saying nothing, and slipped into the rum-soaked, lively part of town they denied existed. The part wreathed in shadows, punctuated by laughter and drowned in rotgut whiskey.
A thousand times they'd failed. That secret part of him kept dreaming. But the dream was beginning to tarnish, dulled by too many freezing nights and sweltering days and too much loneliness. He glanced at the farmhouse again. At the sight of it, so warm and welcoming and homey, something inside him twisted hard. He wanted to belong in a place like this again, wanted to have someone tell him he was welcome. Welcome. The word brought a quiver of response. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to be grown-up.