Joan Pickart - The Homecoming Hero Returns

WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

Saunders University Keeps Track

of Its Notable Alumni

David Westport

Our star player had big dreams of playing for his

home team, the Boston Red Sox. Now he’s a small

-business owner and happily married father of two.

Too bad he never went pro—he could have been a

legend! Bet he wonders what could have been….

Sandra Taylor Westport

The girl who captured the jock’s heart had big

dreams of winning a Pulitzer Prize one day. Her

writing was everything to her, but now her kids—

and the family business—have taken over. Maybe

one day she’ll get to pick up where she left off,

and find the story of a lifetime!

Tune in next month, graduates,

when The Saunders Sound-Off brings you

up to date on more of your old friends!

Dear Reader,

It’s hot and sunny in my neck of the woods—in other words, perfect beach reading weather! And we at Silhouette Special Edition are thrilled to start off your month with the long-awaited new book in New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber’s Navy series, Navy Husband. It features a single widowed mother; her naval-phobic sister, assigned to care for her niece while her sister is in the service; and a handsome lieutenant commander who won’t take no for an answer! In this case, I definitely think you’ll find this book worth the wait….

Next, we begin our new inline series, MOST LIKELY TO…, the story of a college reunion and the about-to-be-revealed secret that is going to change everyone’s lives. In The Homecoming Hero Returns by Joan Elliott Pickart, a young man once poised for athletic stardom who chose marriage and fatherhood instead finds himself face-to-face with the road not taken. In Stella Bagwell’s next book in her MEN OF THE WEST series, Redwing’s Lady, a Native American deputy sheriff and a single mother learn they have more in common than they thought. The Father Factor by Lilian Darcy tells the story of the reunion between a hotshot big-city corporate lawyer who’s about to discover the truth about his father—and a woman with a secret of her own. If you’ve ever bought a lottery ticket, wondering, if just once, it could be possible…be sure to grab Ticket to Love by Jen Safrey, in which a pizza waitress from Long Island is sure that if she isn’t the lucky winner, it must be the handsome stranger in town. Last, new-to-Silhouette author Jessica Bird begins THE MOOREHOUSE LEGACY, a miniseries based on three siblings who own an upstate New York inn, with Beauty and the Black Sheep. In it, responsible sister Frankie Moorehouse wonders if just this once she could think of herself first as soon as she lays eyes on her temporary new chef.

So keep reading! And think of us as the dog days of August begin to set in….

Toodles,

Gail Chasan

Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For our editor, Susan Litman,

who survived this challenging project

in spite of us.

Thank you.

is the author of over eighty-five novels. When she isn’t writing, Joan enjoys reading, gardening and attending craft shows on the town square with her young daughter, Autumn. Joan has three all-grown-up daughters and three fantastic grandchildren. Joan and Autumn live in a charming small town in the high pine country of Arizona.

Dear David,

You are the coolest guy in school and the best boyfriend a girl could ask for! This has been the best year—especially the homecoming weekend. You played better than ever, and I just know you’ll be playing for the Red Sox someday—and I’ll be the reporter covering the games!? I’ll never forget our private celebration after the festivities, either. I’m so glad I didn’t have to share you with your adoring fans all night.

I love you, baby, and can’t wait to see you on the field again next year!

XOXOXOX

Sandra

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

S andra Westport slid her hands into puffy mitts, then removed a tray of golden brown cupcakes from the oven. After setting the tray on a wire cooling rack on the counter, she slid another batch into the oven and removed the mitts. Settling onto a chair at the table, she continued the interrupted task of spreading frosting on several dozen of the treats.

She blew a puff of air upward, trying and failing to move the annoying curl of hair that had flopped onto her moist forehead. After swirling the chocolate frosting into place she set the cupcake to the side and picked up another, just as her husband entered the kitchen.

“Oh-h-h, I’m a dying man,” David Westport gasped. “You could fry an egg on those sidewalks out there.”

He bent over, placed his hands on his knees and took several deep breaths before straightening again.

“Come here, lovely wife,” he said, flinging out his arms, “and give me a big hug.”

Sandra laughed. “Not on your life, buster. You are a soggy, sweaty, icky mess. Take a shower and I may reconsider your request. Anyone who goes running in Boston in July is cuckoo, sir. I think the humidity is as high as the temperature and it’s only a little after 8:00 a.m. Grim, very grim.”

David chuckled and crossed the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water from the refrigerator, which he chugalugged. He came back to stand next to the table.

“The sanity of a woman who bakes in this weather might be in question, too, madam,” he said, reaching for a cupcake.

“Hey, don’t touch those,” Sandra said. “They’re for the bake sale at church tomorrow. Don’t even ask where my brain was when I volunteered to do this. There should be a rule that only people who have air-conditioning in their houses should be expected to turn on the oven to donate to these projects.”

She sighed and stared into space for a moment. “Air-conditioning. I hear that it’s a marvelous invention.”

“I heard that rumor, too,” David said, snagging a cupcake and removing the paper cup. “One of these days, my sweet. In the meantime, could you quit bringing it up? I’m tired of hearing about it.” He ate the cupcake in two bites. “There. I have performed a public service by taste-testing the goodies, and I must say, that was a superb little cake, Shirley Temple.”

Sandra pointed the frosting-covered knife at him.

“Don’t start with the Shirley Temple thing, David Westport. You know my hair goes nuts in humidity like this. Maybe I’ll get a buzz cut like Michael. I swear, David, our son is never going to forgive me for the fact that he inherited my naturally curly blond hair and Molly got your thick, straight black hair. He’ll probably do one of those deals where the kid divorces the parent.”

“Speaking of the Westport twins,” David said, “I assume they’re still sleeping?”

“Yep. It’s one of the perks of being ten. You don’t get roped into making a zillion cupcakes on a hot and humid day.” Sandra paused. “I wasn’t nagging about air-conditioning, David.”

The timer went off on the stove and Sandra hurried to remove the tray from the oven. She turned the dial to Off, switched the cooled cupcakes with the hot ones and brought the tray to the table.