A GLITTER OF GOLD
Georgia Coast Romance #2
by
LIZ JOHNSON
Publication Date: August 6, 2019
Number of Pages: 368
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Discover a treasure worth more than all the pirate gold in the world.
Anne Norris moved to Savannah, Georgia, for a fresh start. Now her pirate-tour business is flagging and paying the rent requires more than wishful thinking. When she discovers evidence of a shipwreck off the coast of Tybee Island, she knows it could be just the boon she needs to stay afloat. She takes her findings to local museum director Carter Hale for confirmation, but things do not go as planned.
Carter is fascinated with the wreck, the discovery of which could open the door to his dream job at a prestigious museum. But convincing Anne to help him fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle is no easy task. And working with Carter means that Anne will have to do the one thing she swore she'd never do again: trust a man.
"Both an exciting treasure hunt and penetrating exploration of overcoming mistakes Johnson's excellent novel will captivate readers." -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY, STARRED REVIEW
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Chapter One, Part Two of
A Glitter of Gold
By Liz Johnson
(Click to read chapter one, part one with Lone Star Book Blog Tours.)
--
A Glitter of Gold
By Liz Johnson
(Click to read chapter one, part one with Lone Star Book Blog Tours.)
Taking a deep breath, Anne tossed her bag onto the midlevel counter between them. Something inside cracked against the wooden slab, and Lydia clucked her disapproval. Anne gave her a tart smile before diving into her handbag/luggage. Her dad always said she’d throw her back out carrying around something this big, but if she’d learned one thing over the last seven years, it was to keep the important stuff close by. At all times. This bag was pretty much her whole life.
Business license? Check.
ID? Check.
Rental agreement that said her payment was three days past due? Check.
“Rent is due on the first of the month.”
Anne didn’t have to pull her head clear of her bag to sense Lydia’s frown. “I know.” She pushed a red scarf and clean white shirt—part of her daily costume—out of the way and caught sight of a pale blue slip of paper. “Got it!” She yanked it free, waving it like it was a golden ticket and Lydia was Willy Wonka.
In a decidedly un-Willy-Wonka-like move, Lydia snatched the check. “Next time there will be a late fee.”
“I’ll be on time next month.” She hoped. But the pirate tours she gave six days a week hadn’t been as full as the summer before, and her pennies had already stretched as far as they could.
Her business, this life in Savannah, was supposed to feel like freedom. And it did, to an extent. Her living conditions were certainly preferable to her previous situation. But on overcast afternoons like this when she’d only had two people on her tour and knew she’d have to make a jar of peanut butter last another week, the cage was just as effective even if it looked different.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Anne stepped into the onslaught and leaned into the wind. It had grown noticeably stronger in just five minutes, and she had to fight her way around the building and up her stairs.
By the time she made it inside, her hair hung limply.
around her face, her T-shirt and jeans dripping. Falling into the lone chair in her living room, she put her face in her hands and sighed. The weatherman on channel 11 had done a pretty terrific job of scaring her pants off. Lorenzo sounded like a nasty dude, and he was supposed to make landfall right along the Georgia coast sometime before midnight.
She’d done everything the newscasters had recommended. She’d picked up bread and milk—the last half gallon at her grocery store. She’d charged her phone. But no amount of planning could prepare her for what was ahead. The unknown.
A little voice inside her cried out to call her mom back and accept the ticket home. Her mom was probably sitting at the old family computer, the air filled with the clicks of a mouse and the frenzied typing on an ergonomic keyboard. Anne could picture it. It hadn’t changed in ten years. Not since before she’d . . . well, before.
In her life there was only a before and an after. And never the twain would meet. Her life was defined by one solitary event, and the whole of her history was divided by it.
Digging her phone out of her purse, she called her mom back. “I can’t come home.”
The silence was so loud on the other end of the line that she prayed her mom would turn on a movie. Even the news. Any background noise to break up the deafening silence.
She didn’t.
“You mean you won’t.”
Anne meant both. But it didn’t really matter. She couldn’t explain. There weren’t enough words in the world to make her mom understand that when she’d left California, she
hadn’t been leaving her parents. She hadn’t been leaving the sweet memories of her childhood or the joy of her first two years of college.
“Annie?” Her mom’s voice changed to the one she always used when her children were ill. “Please. Come home.”
“I . . . I love you, Mom.”
“Then trust that we love you too. And we’ll take care of you.”
If only she could. If only it were that easy. It would be so simple. She had only three weeks’ worth of tours booked. And then . . . Then she could pack everything she owned into her Civic. It would fit easily.
And then what? She’d go back to a place where memories slammed into her at every turn, crushing and relentless.
Her mom sighed. “Honey . . . you’ve got to let this go.”
“According to who?” She spit the words out, instantly regretting them. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . you don’t know what it’s like.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But I know that you’re my daughter and I love you. I want you to be happy and safe and cared for. Please.”
“I want those things too.” But wanting them didn’t mean she deserved them. Even in her dreams, she couldn’t imagine deserving happiness. She certainly didn’t deserve to be cared for. At least no more than the state of California had cared for her for almost six years.
“Mom, I can’t explain what it’s like facing that city. Every corner of Santa Barbara has a memory. It’s a museum, a monument to every stupid, trusting decision I made. Every second I’m there is nothing more than a reminder that I . . .”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“The jury disagreed.” She pressed her toe into the stained carpet of her living room, remembering the narrowed eyes and tight mouth of the jury foreman. He’d stared at her hard as he read the verdict, and she’d wanted to slide beneath the table. But there was no hiding from the judge and jury in the courtroom. She’d deserved every ounce of their disdain.
“But the judge, even the prosecutor—they didn’t agree. The judge said so after—”
“I could have done something to stop it.” Anne sighed. “I should have.”
“Your dad and I love you. You always have a home with us. Okay?”
“Okay.”
But she’d moved as far from the California coast as she could, and she wasn’t going back. Her parents’ home wasn’t big enough for all her baggage. And try as she might, she couldn’t set it down.
Liz Johnson is the author of more than a dozen novels, including A Sparkle of Silver, A Glitter of Gold, The Red Door Inn, Where Two Hearts Meet, and On Love’s Gentle Shore, as well as a New York Times bestselling novella and a handful of short stories. She makes her home in Phoenix, Arizona.
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GRAND PRIZE: Copies of both Georgia Coast Romance Series Books + $25 Barnes & Noble Gift Card; SECOND PRIZE: Copy of Glitter of Gold + $10 Starbucks Gift Card;
THIRD PRIZE: Copy of Glitter of Gold + Tote Bag
AUGUST 6-16, 2019
VISIT THE OTHER GREAT BLOGS ON THE TOUR:
8/6/19
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Scrapbook Page
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8/6/19
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Bonus Post
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8/7/19
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Review
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8/8/19
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Review
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8/9/19
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Excerpt
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8/10/19
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Excerpt
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8/11/19
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Review
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8/12/19
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Playlist
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8/13/19
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Author Interview
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8/14/19
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Review
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8/15/19
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Review
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A treasure hunt sounds like it would be really good! Thanks for sharing the excerpt!
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