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      New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers returns to charming Swift River Valley, where spring is the time for fresh starts and new beginnings...

      Kylie Shaw has found a home and a quiet place to work as an illustrator of children’s books in little Knights Bridge, Massachusetts. No one seems to know her here—and she likes it that way. She carefully guards her privacy in the refurbished nineteenth-century hat factory where she has a loft. And then California private investigator Russ Colton moves in.

      Russ is in Knights Bridge to keep his client and friend, eccentric Hollywood costume designer Daphne Stewart, out of trouble. Keeping tabs on Daphne while she considers starting a small children’s theater in town doesn’t seem like a tough job until he runs into Kylie. Her opposition to converting part of the old hat factory into a theater is a challenge. But his bigger challenge is getting Kylie to let loose a little...like the adventurous characters she depicts in her work.

      Kylie and Russ have more in common than they or anyone else would ever expect. They’re both looking for a place to belong, and if they’re able to let go of past mistakes and learn to trust again, they might just find what they need in Knights Bridge...and each other.

      “Appealing protagonists, good neighbors, small-town Christmas traditions, and Neggers’s own recipes make for a fine romance.”

      —Publishers Weekly on A Knights Bridge Christmas

      “A heady mix of romance, mystery and genuine Quabbin history packaged in an enchanting holiday tale.”

      —RT Book Reviews on A Knights Bridge Christmas

      “Neggers does the near impossible: she brings a small-town, family-loving heroine and a footloose hero together in an engaging romance that has its fair share of surprises.”

      —Library Journal on Echo Lake

      “Her people, places and things are colorfully and expertly rendered in this compelling work of fiction.”

      —RT Book Reviews on Cider Brook

      “Neggers captures readers’ attention with her usual flair and brilliance and gives us a romance, a mystery and a lesson in history.”

      —RT Book Reviews, Top Pick, on

      Secrets of the Lost Summer

      “Only a writer as gifted as Carla Neggers could use so few words to convey so much action and emotional depth.”

      —Sandra Brown

      “[Neggers] forces her characters to confront issues of humanity, integrity and the multifaceted aspects of love without slowing the ever-quickening pace.”

      —Publishers Weekly

      The Spring at Moss Hill

      Carla Neggers

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For my mother,

      who taught me and so many others how to sew

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Title Page

       Dedication

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Twelve

       Thirteen

       Fourteen

       Fifteen

       Sixteen

       Seventeen

       Eighteen

       Nineteen

       Twenty

       Twenty-One

       Twenty-Two

       Twenty-Three

       Twenty-Four

       Twenty-Five

       Twenty-Six

       Twenty-Seven

       Twenty-Eight

       Author’s Note

       Extract

       Copyright

      “What do you think a private investigator would want me to stock in his fridge and pantry?”

      The provocative question came from Ruby O’Dunn, up front by the cash register at the Swift River Country Store, a fixture in Knights Bridge, Massachusetts, for at least a century. Ruby was speaking to Christopher Sloan, a local firefighter. Kylie Shaw, out of sight in the wine section, had spotted them coming into the store. Now she wished she’d been paying closer attention to their conversation. Private investigator? What private investigator?

      “He’s from Beverly Hills,” Chris said. “I’d start with that.”

      “He works for a Beverly Hills law firm. I don’t know if he’s actually from Beverly Hills.”

      “Close enough.”

      “It’d almost be easier if we were having him stay with my mother. She’s got a fully stocked kitchen.”

      “She also has goats.”

      “Don’t get me started. I cleaned out their stalls this morning. It’s bedlam at her place. Even staying there a few days would be a lot to ask. Moss Hill is a much better choice.”

      Kylie held tight to a bottle of expensive champagne.

      Moss Hill?


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