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 Michael's Father
A Little Secret
January 2003
Harlequin Superromance #1109
ISBN 0-373-71109-3
A Holt Medallion Winner and a Golden Quill
Finalist for Best First Book!
She was banished!
Cori's grandfather, Salvatore Messina, told her she'd never be
able to make it on her own as a single mother. He threatened her--tell him the
name of the father of her child so he could ruin him, or she and her child would
be cut off from the family. As the field manager of Messina Vineyards, Blake
would not only lose his job, but his whole career could be destroyed. Cori
couldn't do that to Blake--she still loved him. So she kept the identity of
Michael's father a secret.
But now she's back...for good?
Almost five years later, Cori has returned to her
family's winery with her young son, Michael. Her mother is dying and Cori is
determined to do whatever she can for her. But Cori's also back for another
reason: it's time to find out if Blake will recognize--and accept--their son.
| Reviews |
Excerpt |
Reviews "Powerful family
dynamics - Recommended. Author Melinda Curtis boldly tackles the painful
challenges of righting the past in MICHAEL'S FATHER. ...difficult
emotional situations are deftly handled with the harshness of reality and the
weakness of being human, resulting in a fascinating read. MICHAEL'S FATHER
comes recommended."
-- WordWeaving.com
"A refreshing love story. The theme of MICHAEL'S FATHER
has been used quite often in contemporary romance novels, but contains a degree
of freshness due to the soap opera like angst of the Messina family. ...fans of
deep emotional conflict plots will want to read her fine novel..."
-- Harriet Klauser,
The Best Reviews
"...Melinda Curtis creates strong conflict and emotional
moments..."
-- Pamela Cohen,
RT BookClub
Excerpt
"You're not happy to see me." Cori Sinclair could have
sworn the house she'd grown up in stared down on her, dark and forbidding.
"Maybe I'm not so happy to see you, either."
It was a long time to be cast out of a family. Nearly five years had passed
since that fateful day when her grandfather, Salvatore Messina, had issued his
ultimatum - marry the man who no longer wanted her or tell him the name of
Michael's father so her grandfather could ruin him. Cori wasn't ready to face
her past, wasn't ready to step through the black, double doors into the depths
of the three-story mansion with its multi-angled roof, dark-gray brick facings
and coal shutters, wasn't ready to step away from the small freedom her dented
yellow Mustang represented. Cori hadn't even been able to bring herself to park
her car in the garage. She'd pulled up on the far side of the front entry as if
she were a guest, then stood in the warm spring sun, waiting, fighting her dread
and wondering.
Home. After so long, Cori still thought of this as home.
Cori bit her lip and, not for the first time that day, pondered her choice of
attire. she'd wanted to wear something stylish and feminine for her mother,
something to show her grandfather he didn't control her anymore.
What had she been thinking to have donned the deep red, form-fitting sheath with
its teasing neckline and short hem? Add the high-heeled, scalloped-edged scarlet
pumps she'd slipped into upon her arrival and there was no way Cori looked as if
she'd come home to fit in with her conservative winemaking family.
But Cori wasn't here to fit in. She had to remember that. She was here to help
Mama, not home to stay.
The sound of a door being opened drew Cori's attention back to the house. She
stiffened as she recognized the man closing the imposing front door.
He looked up toward the driveway, freezing for a moment when Cori came into his
line of vision. Then his chin dropped slightly and he stared at her in a way
that made her feel she had his complete attention. The gesture was so familiar
that Cori's heart immediately scaled up her throat. With effort, she forced
herself to be calm, to look as if he was just another one of Messina Vineyard's
field managers.
Despite his bulky work boots, fluid strides carried him closer. her eyes drank
in the changes to his body, easily discernible through his faded blue jeans and
T-shirt. He'd filled out since she'd seen him last, but he was still lean and
muscular. His red-brown hair, cut short on the sides, longer on top, glinted in
the California afternoon sunlight.
"Miss Sinclair." Blake Austin stopped five feet away from her, hands on his hips
as if he owned the place.
He was far enough away that she could tell things hadn't changed between them,
but close enough for her to note how his ice-gray eyes stroked impassively over
her red dress, down her legs to her pumps and back over her dress...pausing in
the area of her cleavage.
Maybe not so impassively.
For once, those ten extra pregnancy pounds she hadn't shed didn't seem so bad.
With more courage than she had felt moments before, Cori met the gaze of
Michael's father. She was, after all, the woman in red.
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