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A Dog And A Diamond
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Год написания книги
2019
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A Dog And A Diamond
Rachael Johns
How to break up with someone else’s fianceby Chelsea Porter, aka The Break-Up Girl1. Tell him it’s not him, it’s her.2. Try to ignore how gorgeous Callum McKinnel is. You are breaking up with him, after all.3. Fall just a little bit when he rescues your dog.4. Try to resist when he asks you to join his family for Thanksgiving dinner in Jewell Rock.5. Succumb anyway.6. Succumb to a lot more than that.7. Remind yourself that you are The Break-Up Girl. You don’t do commitment.8. Wonder what would happen if The Break-Up Girl stopped following her own advice…
“Muffin’s gone,” she screamed, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“What?” he asked.
“My dog,” she sobbed, rushing past him to go back outside. “Muffin! Muffin!” She continued shouting that one word as she frantically searched her front yard.
He stepped onto the porch, wondering what kind of mess he’d gotten himself into. If he were sensible, he’d head back to the SUV, climb inside and maybe phone this into the police on his way back to the distillery But what kind of guy would leave a woman alone in a situation like this?
“Hey!” he called, still having no clue of her name. “What’s Muffin look like? I’ll help you look.”
She froze a moment, looking at him as if she couldn’t tell if he meant it or not, then, “He’s a golden cocker spaniel. About this high.” She gestured to just above her knee. “He’s wearing a red collar with a gold heart ID tag on it and he has a lot of fur.”
“Okay.” He nodded and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll have a quick drive around. Why don’t you go check if any of the neighbors have seen him?” She appeared more worried about the dog than the house and the culprit looked long gone, so he decided to focus on the mutt first, as well.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice choked as she rushed over to the house on her right.
Callum jogged back to his SUV, climbed in and, shaking his head, turned the key in the ignition. When he’d woken up that morning he’d been engaged and planning a wedding. Now it appeared he was single and looking for a stranger’s dog. What crazy thing could happen next?
* * *
The McKinnels of Jewell Rock
A Dog and a Diamond
Rachael Johns
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
RACHAEL JOHNS is an English teacher by trade, a mum twenty-four-seven, a chronic arachnophobe and a writer the rest of the time. She rarely sleeps and never irons. A lover of romance and women’s fiction, Rachael loves nothing more than sitting in bed with her laptop and electric blanket and imagining her own stories. Rachael has finaled in a number of competitions, including the Australian Romance Readers Awards. Jilted, her first rural romance, won Favourite Australian Contemporary Romance in 2012, and she was voted in the top ten of Booktopia’s Australia’s Favourite Novelist poll in 2013. Rachael lives in the West Australian hills with her hyperactive husband, three mostly gorgeous heroes-in-training, two fat cats, a cantankerous bird and a very badly behaved dog. Rachael loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website—www.rachaeljohns.com (http://www.rachaeljohns.com). She is also on Facebook and Twitter.
For Beck Nicholas and Jackie Ashenden—two awesomely talented writers who have been with me almost from the beginning of this crazy journey and have become great friends in the process.
Contents
Cover (#ue872368d-40b9-52d8-bd9c-41beffa89855)
Introduction (#u3032dd20-aea3-5edf-a43a-fbe017d06081)
Title Page (#u6b23f4b6-d7c9-5b90-a012-f4a263165c5a)
About the Author (#u07d72f49-5944-5500-9c16-37975ef962fb)
Dedication (#u76b91376-8b32-501c-aa8f-afbe6073632c)
Chapter One (#uc7298bfa-77b7-5839-a660-57df69d813f1)
Chapter Two (#u480db219-d681-5ff2-a269-6127087d8d75)
Chapter Three (#ufc5d10f7-3b36-56f2-ab40-195c9cf5548b)
Chapter Four (#u51e9f6b3-68f5-5257-9def-8ed58fe491d9)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_1d80a6bb-1f71-5164-8892-dcec5135c00c)
“You have arrived at your destination,” announced the deep, monotone voice of Chelsea Porter’s GPS.
She slowed her car, frowning as she looked up at the sign that loomed above the private bridge to her right: McKinnel’s Distillery—Oregon’s Best Whiskey since 1977.
Definitely not a place of residence. Perhaps she’d misread the name and address on the client form. Before continuing, she grabbed her cell out of her purse, pulled up her email and checked the details that one Miss Bailey Sawyer had supplied.
Mr. Callum McKinnel, and then what she’d assumed was a residential address in well-to-do Jewell Rock but appeared to be the home of the renowned McKinnel’s Whiskey. She didn’t drink herself but her grandfather had sworn McKinnel’s was the best whiskey in the world. And, like most other members of her family, he’d drunk enough of the stuff to know.
You couldn’t live in these parts without having heard of the McKinnel family. Rumor had it the great-great-grandfather of the current McKinnels—and there were a lot of them—had once been a bootlegger. It was his face on the bottle’s famous label. Criminal or not, he’d been a handsome devil and, from what she’d heard, his descendants had inherited his good looks.
Now that she was here, staring across the bridge, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t recognized the name. There’d been an obituary in the newspaper a month or so ago for Conall McKinnel—he’d been the big boss at the distillery for almost forty years until his recent death thanks to a sudden heart attack. Then there was Lachlan McKinnel—a chef who had won numerous awards, he occasionally appeared on local television and blogged his unique recipes online, all while single-handedly raising his disabled son. Callum—whom she guessed to be one of Lachlan’s brothers—was probably as close to a celebrity as she’d ever get and her stomach clenched with uncharacteristic and ridiculous nerves.
A horn sounded and she realized she’d stalled in the middle of the road. She waved a hand in apology at the car behind her, turned right and then started over the bridge toward the cluster of rustic-looking buildings in the distance. The lake on either side of her sparkled and she shivered, imagining that at this time of the year it would be icy cold. As she emerged on the other side, the sight before her took her breath away. The building sprawled almost the length of the lake and the word quaint came to mind when she looked at it. Although the exterior was brown, there were so many windows that it didn’t look dark. The pine trees in the back and the immaculate, stone-bordered garden beds at the front reminded her of a postcard of a holiday resort. When the snow came in a month or so, this place would be magic.
Rachael Johns
How to break up with someone else’s fianceby Chelsea Porter, aka The Break-Up Girl1. Tell him it’s not him, it’s her.2. Try to ignore how gorgeous Callum McKinnel is. You are breaking up with him, after all.3. Fall just a little bit when he rescues your dog.4. Try to resist when he asks you to join his family for Thanksgiving dinner in Jewell Rock.5. Succumb anyway.6. Succumb to a lot more than that.7. Remind yourself that you are The Break-Up Girl. You don’t do commitment.8. Wonder what would happen if The Break-Up Girl stopped following her own advice…
“Muffin’s gone,” she screamed, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“What?” he asked.
“My dog,” she sobbed, rushing past him to go back outside. “Muffin! Muffin!” She continued shouting that one word as she frantically searched her front yard.
He stepped onto the porch, wondering what kind of mess he’d gotten himself into. If he were sensible, he’d head back to the SUV, climb inside and maybe phone this into the police on his way back to the distillery But what kind of guy would leave a woman alone in a situation like this?
“Hey!” he called, still having no clue of her name. “What’s Muffin look like? I’ll help you look.”
She froze a moment, looking at him as if she couldn’t tell if he meant it or not, then, “He’s a golden cocker spaniel. About this high.” She gestured to just above her knee. “He’s wearing a red collar with a gold heart ID tag on it and he has a lot of fur.”
“Okay.” He nodded and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll have a quick drive around. Why don’t you go check if any of the neighbors have seen him?” She appeared more worried about the dog than the house and the culprit looked long gone, so he decided to focus on the mutt first, as well.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice choked as she rushed over to the house on her right.
Callum jogged back to his SUV, climbed in and, shaking his head, turned the key in the ignition. When he’d woken up that morning he’d been engaged and planning a wedding. Now it appeared he was single and looking for a stranger’s dog. What crazy thing could happen next?
* * *
The McKinnels of Jewell Rock
A Dog and a Diamond
Rachael Johns
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
RACHAEL JOHNS is an English teacher by trade, a mum twenty-four-seven, a chronic arachnophobe and a writer the rest of the time. She rarely sleeps and never irons. A lover of romance and women’s fiction, Rachael loves nothing more than sitting in bed with her laptop and electric blanket and imagining her own stories. Rachael has finaled in a number of competitions, including the Australian Romance Readers Awards. Jilted, her first rural romance, won Favourite Australian Contemporary Romance in 2012, and she was voted in the top ten of Booktopia’s Australia’s Favourite Novelist poll in 2013. Rachael lives in the West Australian hills with her hyperactive husband, three mostly gorgeous heroes-in-training, two fat cats, a cantankerous bird and a very badly behaved dog. Rachael loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website—www.rachaeljohns.com (http://www.rachaeljohns.com). She is also on Facebook and Twitter.
For Beck Nicholas and Jackie Ashenden—two awesomely talented writers who have been with me almost from the beginning of this crazy journey and have become great friends in the process.
Contents
Cover (#ue872368d-40b9-52d8-bd9c-41beffa89855)
Introduction (#u3032dd20-aea3-5edf-a43a-fbe017d06081)
Title Page (#u6b23f4b6-d7c9-5b90-a012-f4a263165c5a)
About the Author (#u07d72f49-5944-5500-9c16-37975ef962fb)
Dedication (#u76b91376-8b32-501c-aa8f-afbe6073632c)
Chapter One (#uc7298bfa-77b7-5839-a660-57df69d813f1)
Chapter Two (#u480db219-d681-5ff2-a269-6127087d8d75)
Chapter Three (#ufc5d10f7-3b36-56f2-ab40-195c9cf5548b)
Chapter Four (#u51e9f6b3-68f5-5257-9def-8ed58fe491d9)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_1d80a6bb-1f71-5164-8892-dcec5135c00c)
“You have arrived at your destination,” announced the deep, monotone voice of Chelsea Porter’s GPS.
She slowed her car, frowning as she looked up at the sign that loomed above the private bridge to her right: McKinnel’s Distillery—Oregon’s Best Whiskey since 1977.
Definitely not a place of residence. Perhaps she’d misread the name and address on the client form. Before continuing, she grabbed her cell out of her purse, pulled up her email and checked the details that one Miss Bailey Sawyer had supplied.
Mr. Callum McKinnel, and then what she’d assumed was a residential address in well-to-do Jewell Rock but appeared to be the home of the renowned McKinnel’s Whiskey. She didn’t drink herself but her grandfather had sworn McKinnel’s was the best whiskey in the world. And, like most other members of her family, he’d drunk enough of the stuff to know.
You couldn’t live in these parts without having heard of the McKinnel family. Rumor had it the great-great-grandfather of the current McKinnels—and there were a lot of them—had once been a bootlegger. It was his face on the bottle’s famous label. Criminal or not, he’d been a handsome devil and, from what she’d heard, his descendants had inherited his good looks.
Now that she was here, staring across the bridge, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t recognized the name. There’d been an obituary in the newspaper a month or so ago for Conall McKinnel—he’d been the big boss at the distillery for almost forty years until his recent death thanks to a sudden heart attack. Then there was Lachlan McKinnel—a chef who had won numerous awards, he occasionally appeared on local television and blogged his unique recipes online, all while single-handedly raising his disabled son. Callum—whom she guessed to be one of Lachlan’s brothers—was probably as close to a celebrity as she’d ever get and her stomach clenched with uncharacteristic and ridiculous nerves.
A horn sounded and she realized she’d stalled in the middle of the road. She waved a hand in apology at the car behind her, turned right and then started over the bridge toward the cluster of rustic-looking buildings in the distance. The lake on either side of her sparkled and she shivered, imagining that at this time of the year it would be icy cold. As she emerged on the other side, the sight before her took her breath away. The building sprawled almost the length of the lake and the word quaint came to mind when she looked at it. Although the exterior was brown, there were so many windows that it didn’t look dark. The pine trees in the back and the immaculate, stone-bordered garden beds at the front reminded her of a postcard of a holiday resort. When the snow came in a month or so, this place would be magic.
