Book Spotlight: The Golden Hour by L.M. Halloran
The Golden Hour
by L.M. Halloran
Date Released: October 10, 2019
About The Golden Hour
My name is Finn McCowen, and I want my revenge.
Callisto Avellino was the heiress of one of the country’s most influential families. A delicate wildflower in a bed of thorns. And the daughter of the man who killed my father.
Six years ago, she disappeared.
She says she ran away to escape the poison of her corrupt family. Money. Prestige. Power. Murder.
We have the same agenda—or so it seems: ruin the Avellinos at all costs.
If I have to put her in harm’s way to get what I want?
So be it.
When not writing or reading, the author enjoys walking barefoot, subjecting her husband to questionable recipes, and chasing her spirited daughter. She’s a rabid fan of coffee, moon-gazing, and small dogs that resemble Ewoks. Home is Portland, Oregon.
by L.M. Halloran
Date Released: October 10, 2019
About The Golden Hour
My name is Finn McCowen, and I want my revenge.
Callisto Avellino was the heiress of one of the country’s most influential families. A delicate wildflower in a bed of thorns. And the daughter of the man who killed my father.
Six years ago, she disappeared.
She says she ran away to escape the poison of her corrupt family. Money. Prestige. Power. Murder.
We have the same agenda—or so it seems: ruin the Avellinos at all costs.
If I have to put her in harm’s way to get what I want?
So be it.
Read my 4.5-starred review of The Golden Hour.
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An Excerpt from The Golden Hour
“You’re blackmailing me.”
He shrugs. “Call it what you want. I think of it more as making you an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Screw you.”
His humorless grin slices me. “I almost did. What’s it gonna be, princess? A new boyfriend or a media lynching? Doesn’t matter to me. But can you imagine what the world will say when it comes out that you staged your own abduction? Lied to the cops? The entire nation?” He whistles softly.
Trembling, near tears, I whisper, “I hate you.”
“I don’t care,” he retorts. “I’ll pick you up Friday at seven for our date. The first of many. From this point on, you’re taken. By me. Like it or not, we’re going to do this together.”
“They’ll never buy it. I can’t stand you.”
Another chuckle, low and dark. “Oh, I think you can. I’m giving you a week to remember how much you liked me when we met.”
“You’re blackmailing me.”
He shrugs. “Call it what you want. I think of it more as making you an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Screw you.”
His humorless grin slices me. “I almost did. What’s it gonna be, princess? A new boyfriend or a media lynching? Doesn’t matter to me. But can you imagine what the world will say when it comes out that you staged your own abduction? Lied to the cops? The entire nation?” He whistles softly.
Trembling, near tears, I whisper, “I hate you.”
“I don’t care,” he retorts. “I’ll pick you up Friday at seven for our date. The first of many. From this point on, you’re taken. By me. Like it or not, we’re going to do this together.”
“They’ll never buy it. I can’t stand you.”
Another chuckle, low and dark. “Oh, I think you can. I’m giving you a week to remember how much you liked me when we met.”
About L.M. Halloran
When not writing or reading, the author enjoys walking barefoot, subjecting her husband to questionable recipes, and chasing her spirited daughter. She’s a rabid fan of coffee, moon-gazing, and small dogs that resemble Ewoks. Home is Portland, Oregon.
Connect with L.M. Halloran
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