Twisted Creek
-
- 6,99 €
-
- 6,99 €
Publisher Description
“Twisted Creek will weave its way around the reader’s heart. Compelling and beautifully written, it is exactly the kind of heart wrenching, emotional story one has come to expect from Jodi Thomas.”—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
Bad luck's been biting at Allie Daniel's heels all her life, so when she inherits a tiny café in a small Texas lake community she’s sure there has to be a catch. But Allie brings her grandmother along, and the cafe gives Nana a chance to do what she loves best—cook.
As Allie settles in to try and make the best of what surely must be a mistake in an old man's will, the people of the lake drop by. Lonely folk discover there's always a “table for one” available, with downhome food to warm the soul. An old maid, a shy young man, a drifter who races the moon across the lake: slowly, they become the family Allie never had. And when trouble comes, Allie finds she's not alone any more—and that sometimes, the only cure for bad luck is the courage to love.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Fortune smiles on Allie Daniels and her elderly Nana in the form of an unexpected West Texas inheritance from a mysterious "Uncle Jefferson Platt," of whom Allie doesn't recall any talk. Raised by her grandparents, Allie quit college to take care of frail Nana at her grandfather's death, and, at 26, has held a variety of dead-end jobs. She and Nana are enchanted by the West Texas property on Twisted Creek and have soon reopened its rundown bait shop cum general store and cafe to serve the "Nesters," an eccentric bunch who live lakeside year-round. Half-Navajo undercover ATF agent Luke Morgan is one of them, and he's intent on catching the killer of Uncle Jefferson, who was his own granddad's best friend and to put some drug traffickers out of business in the process. Morgan tries to resist his feelings for Allie, but Thomas sketches a slow, sweet surrender, keeping the tension building to a rewarding resolution in this unsentimental, homespun romance.
