Pamela Humphrey
Finding Claire - Signed Paperback
Finding Claire - Signed Paperback
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Romance, mystery, genealogy, and suspense intertwine in this emotional romantic suspense novel, told across two timelines, with the past unraveling through a series of old letters as Kate pieces together who she really is.
It's the first of a trilogy, but you won't be left with a nail-biting cliff hanger. This one has a happy ending.
Injured and afraid—with no recollection of who she is—she stumbles through the Texas Hill Country with a photo labeled Claire. Seeking safety, she knocks at Alex’s cabin door. He protects her, even though she stirs up memories that haunt him.
She wants her life back. He wants to ease his guilt and will protect her even if it means risking his own life. Together they search, hoping questions will be answered by finding Claire.
MAIN TROPES
- Amnesia
- Protective Stranger
- Emotionally Wounded Hero
- Family
- Escapes a Kidnapping
- Letters from the Past
Synopsis
Synopsis
She wakes up in the back of a van, and her whole world changes.
Injured and afraid—with no recollection of who she is—she stumbles through the Texas Hill Country with a photo labeled Claire. Seeking safety, she knocks at Alex’s cabin door.
He protects her, even though she stirs up memories that haunt him.
She wants her life back. He wants to ease his guilt and will protect her even if it means risking his own life.
Together they search, hoping questions will be answered by finding Claire.
Chapter One Look Inside
Chapter One Look Inside
The night I woke up in the back of a van with my hands bound, my whole world changed. It was a Friday.
I opened my eyes and fought to remember how I’d ended up in a dark, moving vehicle. As if rising from the depths of a deep lake, I struggled, desperate for a glimpse of the familiar. Rope burned my wrists. I didn’t have the presence of mind or the courage to formulate an escape. Panic rendered me useless as someone drove me to the middle of nowhere.
The kidnappers’ most helpful accomplice, my own fear, held me prisoner. The worst part of it all, my mind hid memories from me. I didn’t even know my own name.
A greasy, foul-smelling man marched me into a dark house. Images of how I’d be killed flashed through my mind when he shoved me into a putrid closet. Another man did his bidding and talked incessantly. More than a day, being fed nothing but bologna sandwiches, I wallowed in that tiny space.
