Genre: Adult (Contemporary Romance)
Date Published: March 31, 2015
Publisher: Zebra
In this evocative new series from author Sarah Hegger, a woman returns home after a long absence—and wonders if two wrongs really can make a right...
Nine years ago Lucy Flint ran away to Seattle, taking her friend's boyfriend and leaving her high school sweetheart without a word of explanation. Now she's back in Willow Park, Illinois, to help care for her ailing father—and it's no surprise that her ex, Dr. Richard Hunter, is still angry.
Still, she's a different Lucy now. Sober, wiser, ready to make amends to the long—make that very long—list of those she mistreated during her wild younger days. Falling for Richard all over again would mean wreaking havoc in both their lives and possibly squandering her opportunity for redemption. But here, in the place where everything went wrong, is the one person who always felt right, and a second-chance that could be the best mistake she ever made...
Nobody's Angel is the first book in the Willow Park series by Sarah Heggar. I do not envy Lucy one bit. She has a lot of apologizing to do to sooo many people. She is on her road to recovery, and I can't imagine how hard it would be to not escape back to the bottle while she returns to her hometown and faces all the people she has hurt. We're not talking little hurts either. These are some big hurts. To me Lucy was a very realistic character. Her behavior and the responses from the other characters were very believable. They were at times painful to read, but still very believable. The romance was a big part of the story. The tension between Lucy and Richard was think, but there was so much pain and mistrust between them. Will they work through it? Better read to find out.
The ARC of Nobody's Angel by Sarah Hegger was kindly provided to me by Tasty Book Tours & the publisher through NetGalley for review. The opinions are my own.
Born British and raised in South Africa, Sarah Hegger suffers from an incurable case of wanderlust. Her match? A hot Canadian engineer, whose marriage proposal she accepted six short weeks after they first met. Together they’ve made homes in seven different cities across three different continents (and back again once or twice). If only it made her multilingual, but the best she can manage is idiosyncratic English, fluent Afrikaans, conversant Russian, pigeon Portuguese, even worse Zulu and enough French to get herself into trouble.
Mimicking her globe trotting adventures, Sarah’s career path began as a gainfully employed actress, drifted into public relations, settled a moment in advertising, and eventually took root in the fertile soil of her first love, writing. She also moonlights as a wife and mother.She currently lives in Draper, Utah, with her teenage daughters, two Golden Retrievers and aforementioned husband. Part footloose buccaneer, part quixotic observer of life, Sarah’s restless heart is most content when reading or writing books.
She loves to hear from readers and you can find her at any of the places below.
To learn more about Sarah Hegger and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.
A slight shift in the light was all the warning she got before a warm hand closed over hers. Lucy dropped her iPod and he reached out quickly and caught it. Adele sadistically launched into a heartrending chorus. Tell me about it. Lucy sniffled.
Richard’s mouth moved, but all Lucy heard was Adele wailing away enthusiastically. His eyes were bluer than a clear sky and Lucy sank, came up for air, and then sunk all the way down to the bottom.
His mouth moved. He frowned, shook his head, and plucked the earphones from her ears.
“These things will make you deaf.”
“Is that your considered medical opinion?” She was proud she could still come out with the wisecracks. Given that she truly wanted to disgust Gloria Steinem and the girls and fling herself against his manly chest and have him sweep her away to the happily-ever-after place.
“What are you doing?” Prince Charming asked with a frown.
“You have to ask?” Lucy looked pointedly at her shovel.
“Lucy.” His mouth tightened. “It’s the middle of the night and you’re shoveling snow?”
“Did I wake you?”
“Not with the shoveling.” Richard pushed a hand through his hair, making it stand on end around his head. “You look like you need a friend,” he said softly.
“Is that what you are?” Lucy heard her voice wobble dangerously and cleared her throat.
“Or something,” he muttered, and took her arm. “Come on.” He took the shovel from her hand and propped it against the side of the house. “Let’s be sleepless together.”
“Not a good idea.” Lucy dug in her heels, but he tightened the grip on her arm and tugged her a few steps forward.
“I don’t care,” he said, and hauled her a few more steps. “I don’t give a shit right now.”
And just like that, Lucy realized she didn’t give a shit, either.
He took her silence as agreement and kept her hand in his as he walked them through the silent garden to his house.
“Coffee?” he asked as he hung up his coat and reached over for hers to hang it beside his.
“No,” Lucy answered, pulling a face. “I would like to sleep at some point.”
The dim light of the entrance hall danced across the strong lines of his face. He cupped her chin and turned her face. “You’ve been crying.”
“A bit,” Lucy murmured.
His hand on her face was warm and gentle, but it sent a shaft of longing arcing through her body. She shifted away and dropped her head. Needing to move, she padded restlessly into the house.
“What is it?” He caught up with her on silent feet. “Is it last night?”
“Not really.” She didn’t have it in her to outright lie. “Something happened, earlier, and I . . .”
She trailed off and followed him into the kitchen. She almost laughed. This kitchen had seen a lot of action since she’d been back in town.
“Tell me,” Richard urged her softly.
“I hurt someone.” She pulled out a seat and sat.
He went very still above her. “A man?”
Lucy nodded and looked down at the floor. His bare feet stuck out the bottom of his pants. He must have just pulled on his boots when he spotted her in her crazy wee-hour mania.
“A boyfriend?”
“Not really.” Something in his tone made her look up. His gaze was trained intently on her face.
The muscles of his jaw bunched.
“You sure you want to hear this?” Of all the things she and Richard could discuss, another man must be close to the top of the awkward list.
“No.” His eyes bored into hers, as if he were trying to see past her face and into the center of her. “Tell me anyway.”
“His name is Elliot and he’s a really good man.” The pain in her chest unraveled slightly and she dared a bit more. “He’s been amazing to me. He picked me up when I was at my lowest point and helped me get sober. He’s one of the good guys.”
“And?”
“He loves me and wants more from me. I don’t feel the same.”
Richard flinched, the slightest crease around the corner of his eyes.
“It isn’t the same,” she addressed the thoughts she could almost hear whirling around his brain.
“Elliot is not you and I was always honest with him.”
“Really?” His skepticism rubbed salt on an open wound.
“I never loved Elliot.” Lucy hissed in a breath. “I never pretended to love him either. He . . .” She was making a mess of this. “Why don’t I tell you the whole story and stop you from leaping to conclusions?”
She thought he might refuse and then his face relaxed slightly and he dragged out the chair beside her. “Why not?”
It was not exactly enthusiastic, but Richard was still listening.
“I met Elliot when I first went to Seattle,” she said. “He was the perfect catch for me at that time.
He had money, he was good looking and just that bit older to want to take care of me. I used him.” She hated even admitting it. “Until I found something I liked more. I was drinking, heavily,
and Elliot was a bit too grown up for me. Then I ran out of money, got scared, and went straight back to Elliot.”
Lucy managed a dry laugh. “And he took me back. He asked me to stop drinking and I did. I didn’t stay for long,” she said, shrugging. “I found someone more exciting, more like me, and I left him again.”
“The prick with the fists?”
“That’s the one.” Lucy grimaced. “Then I got sober and Elliot has been waiting for me to get serious about him. He’s been hanging around for me, all this time, and I had to let him go.”
“Wow.” Richard blew out a soft breath. He spun away from her and stood staring out the window into the dark. “There’s a whole team of us. The men who never get over Lucy.”
Richard’s mouth moved, but all Lucy heard was Adele wailing away enthusiastically. His eyes were bluer than a clear sky and Lucy sank, came up for air, and then sunk all the way down to the bottom.
His mouth moved. He frowned, shook his head, and plucked the earphones from her ears.
“These things will make you deaf.”
“Is that your considered medical opinion?” She was proud she could still come out with the wisecracks. Given that she truly wanted to disgust Gloria Steinem and the girls and fling herself against his manly chest and have him sweep her away to the happily-ever-after place.
“What are you doing?” Prince Charming asked with a frown.
“You have to ask?” Lucy looked pointedly at her shovel.
“Lucy.” His mouth tightened. “It’s the middle of the night and you’re shoveling snow?”
“Did I wake you?”
“Not with the shoveling.” Richard pushed a hand through his hair, making it stand on end around his head. “You look like you need a friend,” he said softly.
“Is that what you are?” Lucy heard her voice wobble dangerously and cleared her throat.
“Or something,” he muttered, and took her arm. “Come on.” He took the shovel from her hand and propped it against the side of the house. “Let’s be sleepless together.”
“Not a good idea.” Lucy dug in her heels, but he tightened the grip on her arm and tugged her a few steps forward.
“I don’t care,” he said, and hauled her a few more steps. “I don’t give a shit right now.”
And just like that, Lucy realized she didn’t give a shit, either.
He took her silence as agreement and kept her hand in his as he walked them through the silent garden to his house.
“Coffee?” he asked as he hung up his coat and reached over for hers to hang it beside his.
“No,” Lucy answered, pulling a face. “I would like to sleep at some point.”
The dim light of the entrance hall danced across the strong lines of his face. He cupped her chin and turned her face. “You’ve been crying.”
“A bit,” Lucy murmured.
His hand on her face was warm and gentle, but it sent a shaft of longing arcing through her body. She shifted away and dropped her head. Needing to move, she padded restlessly into the house.
“What is it?” He caught up with her on silent feet. “Is it last night?”
“Not really.” She didn’t have it in her to outright lie. “Something happened, earlier, and I . . .”
She trailed off and followed him into the kitchen. She almost laughed. This kitchen had seen a lot of action since she’d been back in town.
“Tell me,” Richard urged her softly.
“I hurt someone.” She pulled out a seat and sat.
He went very still above her. “A man?”
Lucy nodded and looked down at the floor. His bare feet stuck out the bottom of his pants. He must have just pulled on his boots when he spotted her in her crazy wee-hour mania.
“A boyfriend?”
“Not really.” Something in his tone made her look up. His gaze was trained intently on her face.
The muscles of his jaw bunched.
“You sure you want to hear this?” Of all the things she and Richard could discuss, another man must be close to the top of the awkward list.
“No.” His eyes bored into hers, as if he were trying to see past her face and into the center of her. “Tell me anyway.”
“His name is Elliot and he’s a really good man.” The pain in her chest unraveled slightly and she dared a bit more. “He’s been amazing to me. He picked me up when I was at my lowest point and helped me get sober. He’s one of the good guys.”
“And?”
“He loves me and wants more from me. I don’t feel the same.”
Richard flinched, the slightest crease around the corner of his eyes.
“It isn’t the same,” she addressed the thoughts she could almost hear whirling around his brain.
“Elliot is not you and I was always honest with him.”
“Really?” His skepticism rubbed salt on an open wound.
“I never loved Elliot.” Lucy hissed in a breath. “I never pretended to love him either. He . . .” She was making a mess of this. “Why don’t I tell you the whole story and stop you from leaping to conclusions?”
She thought he might refuse and then his face relaxed slightly and he dragged out the chair beside her. “Why not?”
It was not exactly enthusiastic, but Richard was still listening.
“I met Elliot when I first went to Seattle,” she said. “He was the perfect catch for me at that time.
He had money, he was good looking and just that bit older to want to take care of me. I used him.” She hated even admitting it. “Until I found something I liked more. I was drinking, heavily,
and Elliot was a bit too grown up for me. Then I ran out of money, got scared, and went straight back to Elliot.”
Lucy managed a dry laugh. “And he took me back. He asked me to stop drinking and I did. I didn’t stay for long,” she said, shrugging. “I found someone more exciting, more like me, and I left him again.”
“The prick with the fists?”
“That’s the one.” Lucy grimaced. “Then I got sober and Elliot has been waiting for me to get serious about him. He’s been hanging around for me, all this time, and I had to let him go.”
“Wow.” Richard blew out a soft breath. He spun away from her and stood staring out the window into the dark. “There’s a whole team of us. The men who never get over Lucy.”
How long have you been writing?
Most of my life, I’ve been writing in one form or another. Like a lot of people, I had this vague idea that I’d like to write. Turning forty was what got me moving actively in the direction of getting published.
What inspired you to write Nobody's Angel?
Up until I wrote Nobody’s Angel, I was writing mostly historical romance. My husband pushed me to try my hand at contemporary. I always love stories about coming home and lost loves and Lucy and Richard were born.
Which of your characters do you relate to most and why?
I relate very closely to Lucy. A lot of the lessons she has to learn in the book, are lessons that hold true for my life.
What is a secret about you that nobody else knows?
In my acting days I played the villain in a very bad episode of a terrible detective series and had to ride a horse. Only, I’m terrified of horses and I ended up ‘riding’ an apple cart strapped to the back of a truck.
What book have you read too many times to count?
Anne McCaffrey’s “Dragons of Pern” series. I never get tired of F’lar and Lessa, and those dragons, Mnementh and Ramoth.
What is the best piece of writing advice you ever received?
Keep writing. Write through the rejection, write through the slump, write through the highs. As long as you put those words on the page, you’ll get there eventually.
If you could hop into the life of any fictional character, who would it be and why?
I want to be Lessa from Pern and ride a dragon that is connected to me telepathically in a life long bond. I might also like to be Scarlett O’Hara and not be such an idiot for most of the book. Although that would make Gone with the Wind a much shorter novel. More like a short story because Rhett had me at “And you miss, are no lady.”
What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your books?
Despite how much I plot and plan ahead of time, there comes a point when the characters take on a life of their own. These people become real to me, and I can often be found lost in the middle of an imaginary conversation with one of them.
What do you like to do when you're not writing?
I love to read and watch movies. I also really enjoy hiking with my two Golden Retrievers, it helps clear my head.
Are any of the things in your books based on real life experiences or purely all imagination?
Lucy’s story as a recovering alcoholic is a personal one for me. Although the details of Lucy’s story are not the same as mine, I drew on my experience of getting sober and threw in a dollop of embellishment.
Mimicking her globe trotting adventures, Sarah’s career path began as a gainfully employed actress, drifted into public relations, settled a moment in advertising, and eventually took root in the fertile soil of her first love, writing. She also moonlights as a wife and mother.She currently lives in Draper, Utah, with her teenage daughters, two Golden Retrievers and aforementioned husband. Part footloose buccaneer, part quixotic observer of life, Sarah’s restless heart is most content when reading or writing books.
She loves to hear from readers and you can find her at any of the places below.
To learn more about Sarah Hegger and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.
