The Islanders by Meg Mitchell Moore
English | 2019 | General Fiction/Classics | ePUB | 1.7 Mb
The Islanders : J. Courtney Sullivan’s Maine meets the works of Elin Hilderbrand in this delicious summer read involving three strangers, one island, and a season packed with unexpected romance, well-meaning lies, and damaging secrets.
Anthony Puckett was a rising literary star. The son of an uber-famous thriller writer, Anthony’s debut novel spent two years on the bestseller list and won the adoration of critics. But something went very wrong with his second work. Now Anthony’s borrowing an old college’s friend’s crumbling beach house on Block Island in the hopes that solitude will help him get back to the person he used to be.
Joy Sousa owns and runs Block Island’s beloved whoopie pie café. She came to this quiet space eleven years ago, newly divorced and with a young daughter, and built a life for them here. To her customers and friends, Joy is a model of independence, hard-working and happy. And mostly she is. But this summer she’s thrown off balance. A food truck from a famous New York City brand is roving around the island, selling goodies—and threatening her business.
Lu Trusdale is spending the summer on her in-laws’ dime, living on Block Island with her two young sons while her surgeon husband commutes to the mainland hospital. When Lu’s second son was born, she and her husband made a deal: he’d work and she’d quit her corporate law job to stay home with the boys. But a few years ago, Lu quietly began working on a private project that has becoming increasingly demanding on her time. Torn between her work and home, she’s beginning to question that deal she made.
Over the twelve short weeks of summer, these three strangers will meet and grow close, will share secrets and bury lies. And as the promise of June turns into the chilly nights of August, the truth will come out, forcing each of them to decide what they value most, and what they are willing to give up to keep it.
“Where. The ef. Have you been? I’ve been calling you, calling Cassie, calling everyone. Nobody answered! Didn’t you get my messages?”
“I got them,” Anthony admitted.
“We have work to do on the PR front, Anthony!”
As Anthony watched (in, he assured himself, an appropriately avuncular fashion), one of the girls shimmied out of her shorts and waded into the water. Anthony thought it would have been a little bit cold—it was still early in the season, and also early in the day!—but she didn’t so much as flinch. Maybe this really was the Caribbean of the East.
“I’m taking some time away,” he explained, squinting at the threads of clouds. “Thinking about starting something new.”
“Yes,” said Shelly Salazar. “That’s exactly what you should do! Write something new, write something better, and begin it all with an apology.” Her voice took on a different timbre, low and sonorous, like she’d just tasted an exotic fruit and was reporting on the sensation. “If you start with an apology, and if that becomes the thing, we can get you into every magazine, on every read-this list. Bustle, Lit Hub. Lenny Letter! The Times.”
At the mention of the Times Anthony shuddered.
“Well,” said Anthony. “I don’t know if I can write something better.” Simon’s Rock had been good—it had been really, really good, he’d funneled all of himself into that book, until— “But I can definitely write something new. I think.”