Kate Hoffmann - The Mighty Quinns - Cameron

Praise for Kate Hoffmann from RT Book Reviews …

“Hoffmann’s deeply felt, emotional story is riveting. It’s impossible to put down.”

— on The Charmer

“Fully developed characters and perfect pacing make this story feel completely right.”

— on Your Bed or Mine?

“Sexy and wildly romantic.”

— on Doing Ireland!

“A very hot story mixes with great characters to make every page a delight.”

— on The Mighty Quinns: Ian

“Romantic, sexy and heartwarming.”

— on Who Needs Mistletoe?

“Sexy, heartwarming and romantic … a story to settle down with and enjoy—and then re-read.”

— on The Mighty Quinns: Teague

Dear Reader,

The Traveling Quinn Saga continues this month, with Cameron Quinn hopping on a bus that will take him to Vulture Creek, New Mexico. What kind of new life will he find there, do you suppose? His two brothers, Dermot and Kieran, have already found love in Wisconsin and Kentucky. And next, Ronan, the youngest Quinn, will end up in over his head in Maine.

This series has been a lot of fun to write, especially since I’ve been able to explore four different settings. Choosing the place my characters come to life is one of my favorite parts of writing. Researching a new location and then weaving the details into my hero and heroine’s journey is always a challenge, but it’s one I love to take on.

After writing almost seventy books, I really should go back and see how many states I’ve visited in my stories. Too bad I can’t deduct literary mileage on my tax returns!

All the best,

Kate Hoffmann

KATE HOFFMANNhas written more than seventy books for Mills & Boon. She spent time as a music teacher, a retail assistant buyer and an advertising exec before she settled into a career as a full-time writer. She continues to pursue her interests in music, theatre and musical theatre, working with local schools in various productions. She lives in south-eastern Wisconsin with her cat, Chloe.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A DAMP WIND BUFFETED the mourners standing around the grave site. Cameron Quinn stared up into the slate-gray sky, then closed his eyes against the tears that threatened. He couldn’t remember the last time the sun had shone. It had been a year of dark, gloomy days strung together with nights of strange and disturbing dreams.

Cameron held tight to the umbrella as it was buffeted by the wind. His younger twin brothers, Dermot and Kieran, stood on one side of him, huddling close more for comfort than for protection from the coming rain. Ronan, his youngest brother, stood in front of him, his posture stiff, his hands shoved in his coat pockets.

After a year of searching and waiting and wondering, it was finally over. Jamie and Suzanne Quinn had been declared dead. Cameron’s parents had been due to arrive in Vanuatu in the South Pacific a little more than a year ago, ferrying a sailing yacht across the Pacific for a wealthy buyer.

The trip was originally meant to be a summer vacation for the whole family, but when the owner pushed up the delivery date, Cameron and his three brothers had been forced to stay behind for school. The trip was to take just over a month.

Cameron and the younger Quinns had marked off the calendar on their grandfather’s kitchen wall as each day passed. Every few days, they’d heard from their parents via satellite phone, but then their parents missed a night and then another. A week passed and the boys could sense the worry in their grand father’s demeanor. And yet Suzanne and Jamie weren’t officially missing. And then they were.

“Why are we burying a—a box?” Kieran asked.

“Coffin,” Cameron murmured. “It’s called a coffin.”

Dermot drew a ragged breath. “What if they come home? Will we dig it up again and get our stuff back?”

Cameron glanced down at his brother and shook his head. “They’re not going to come home.” Though he wanted to believe differently, Cameron knew the reality of their situation.

A week after the planned arrival date, the search for his parents had begun. Two weeks later, there was still no word, no sign, no explanation. And after his parents were a month overdue, a harsh truth began to creep into the boys’ lives. Their parents might be lost. Perhaps they were adrift in a life raft, or captured by pirates, or marooned on some tropical island. No one could say for sure, not even Cameron’s grandfather. And he always had answers for the questions his four grandsons asked.

It was not knowing the truth that bothered Cameron the most. That tiny flicker of hope that refused to fade. For a year, he’d believed, along with his brothers, that this would all turn out to be a very bad dream. But as he watched the empty casket being lowered into the dark hole in the earth, that flicker of hope faded, then extinguished.

“I’m scared,” Ronan said, turning to face Cameron, his eyes swimming with tears.

Cameron wrapped his free arm around Ronan’s shoulders. “Don’t be scared. We’re going to be all right. I promise.”

Dermot brushed a tear from his cheek. “I want Ma and Da back. I know they’re coming back. I know it.”

“Me, too,” Kieran said. “They’re coming back.”

“Maybe,” Cameron said. He wanted more than anything to believe. Maybe he shouldn’t give up quite yet. There was always a chance, wasn’t there? For now, he’d let his little brothers believe. They’d come to their own realizations in time.

The memories of their parents would fade, life would go on, and they’d accept the truth. Nothing would ever be easy or simple or silly again. It was Cameron’s job to hold the family together, to be mother and father to his younger brothers. He wasn’t sure he was up to the job, but he’d do his best. He owed his parents that much.

THE BUS STOPPED in front of a worn-down café, a neon beer sign in the window flickering with the only color Cameron Quinn had seen in the past two hundred miles. “Home-cooked meals,” he murmured as he stared at the sign. At least Vulture Creek, New Mexico, had one thing going for it. From what he’d seen so far, the place was a dusty crossroad, somewhere on the way to Albuquerque.

He grabbed his leather duffel from the rack above his head and walked to the front of the bus, the aisle clear. None of the other passengers had chosen this destination, and after seeing the town out the window, he figured they could count themselves lucky. They were obviously on their way to more glamorous locations, like Santa Fe and Amarillo and Tulsa. A few passengers were even headed to Roswell to take in the “alien” experience.

Cameron knew exactly how those aliens felt, dropping down into a barren, almost lifeless world. He’d come from Seattle, where it rained almost every day of the year and where green, not brown, was the predominant color. He stepped off the bus and squinted up at the turquoise sky, shading his eyes with his hand. It was the only sight that assured him he was still on planet Earth.

Moments later, the bus pulled away in a cloud of dust and diesel fumes. This would be home for the next six weeks, this desolate spot that looked more like the surface of the moon than a habitable location.

Why had his grandfather picked Vulture Creek? The name alone was enough to scare away most people. The challenge had been simple—in theory. His grandfather had sent his four grandsons to strange corners of the country on a quest of sorts—a quest to find out who they really were and where they belonged. Dermot was somewhere in Wisconsin, Kieran in Tennessee, Ronan in Maine, and Cameron, the eldest of the four, was banished to the middle of nowhere.