The starfish sisters, p.1
The Starfish Sisters, page 1
THIS PLACE OF WONDER
“This Place of Wonder is a wonderfully moving tale about four women whose journeys are all connected by one shared love: some are romantic, some are familial, but all are deeply complicated. Dealing with loss, love, hidden secrets, and second chances, this stirring tale is utterly engaging and ultimately hopeful. Set along the rugged California coastline, This Place of Wonder will sweep you away with the intoxicating scents, bold flavors, and sweeping views of the region and transport you to a world you won’t be in any hurry to leave.”
—Colleen Hoover, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Kristin Hannah readers will thoroughly enjoy the family dynamic, especially the mother-daughter relationships.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“Barbara O’Neal’s latest novel is simply delicious. Engrossing, empathetic, and profoundly moving, I savored every sentence of this story of several very different women who find solace and second chances in each other after tragedy (though not before facing some hard truths and, yes, a few rock bottoms). This Place of Wonder is one of the best books I’ve read in a long time.”
—Camille Pagán, bestselling author of Everything Must Go
“I have never much moved in the elevated circles of California farm-to-table cuisine, but O’Neal makes me feel like I’m there. Rather than simply skewering the pretensions, This Place of Wonder pinpoints the passions. Some of these characters have been elevated to celebrity, some are newcomers to the scene, but all are drawn together by the sensuality, the excitement, and ultimately the care that food brings them. Elegiac but also forward-looking, this is a book about eating, but more than that, it’s a book about hurt and healing and women finding their way together. I loved every moment of it.”
—Julie Powell, author of Julie & Julia and Cleaving
WRITE MY NAME ACROSS THE SKY
“Barbara O’Neal weaves an irresistible tale of creativity, forgery, family, and the FBI in Write My Name Across the Sky. Willow and Sam are fascinating, and their aunt Gloria is my dream of an incorrigible, glamorous older woman.”
—Nancy Thayer, bestselling author of Family Reunion
“Write My Name Across the Sky is an exquisitely crafted novel of three remarkable women from two generations grappling with decisions of the past and the consequences of where those young, impetuous choices have led. A heartfelt story of passion, devotion, and family told as only Barbara O’Neal can.”
—Suzanne Redfearn, #1 Amazon bestselling author of In an Instant
“With its themes of creativity and art, Write My Name Across the Sky is itself like a masterfully executed painting. Using refined brushstrokes, O’Neal builds her vivid, complex characters: three independent women in one family who can’t quite come to terms with their fierce feelings of love for one another. O’Neal deftly switches between three points of view, adding layers of family history into this intimate and satisfying study of how women make tough choices between love and creativity and family and freedom.”
—Glendy Vanderah, Washington Post bestselling author of Where the Forest Meets the Stars
THE LOST GIRLS OF DEVON
ONE OF TRAVEL + LEISURE’S MOST ANTICIPATED BOOKS OF SUMMER 2020
“A woman’s strange disappearance brings together four strong women who struggle with their relationships, despite their need for one another. Fans of Sarah Addison Allen will appreciate the emphasis on nature and these women’s unique gifts in this latest by the author of When We Believed in Mermaids.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“The Lost Girls of Devon draws us into the lives of four generations of women as they come to terms with their relationships and a mysterious tragedy that brings them together. Written in exquisite prose with the added bonus of the small Devon village as a setting, Barbara O’Neal’s book will ensnare the reader from the first page, taking us on an emotional journey of love, loss, and betrayal.”
—Rhys Bowen, New York Times and #1 Kindle bestselling author of The Tuscan Child, In Farleigh Field, and the Royal Spyness series
“The Lost Girls of Devon is one of those novels that grabs you at the beginning with its imagery and rich language and won’t let you go. Four generations of women deal with the pain and betrayal of the past, and Barbara O’Neal skillfully leads us to understand all their deepest needs and fears. To read a Barbara O’Neal novel is to fall into a different world—a world of beauty and suspense, of tragedy and redemption. This one, like her others, is spellbinding.”
—Maddie Dawson, bestselling author of A Happy Catastrophe
WHEN WE BELIEVED IN MERMAIDS
“An emotional story about the relationship between two sisters and the difficulty of facing the truth head-on.”
—Today
“There’s a reason Barbara O’Neal is one of the most decorated authors in fiction. With her trademark lyrical style, she’s written a page-turner of the first order. From the very first page, I was drawn into the drama and irresistibly teased along as layers of a family’s complicated past were artfully peeled away. Don’t miss this masterfully told story of sisters and secrets, damage and redemption, hope and healing.”
—Susan Wiggs, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“More than a mystery, Barbara O’Neal’s When We Believed in Mermaids is a story of childhood—and innocence—lost, and the long-hidden secrets, lies, and betrayals two sisters must face in order to make themselves whole as adults. Plunge in and enjoy the intriguing depths of this passionate, lustrous novel, and you just might find yourself believing in mermaids.”
—Juliet Blackwell, New York Times bestselling author of The Lost Carousel of Provence, Letters from Paris, and The Paris Key
“In When We Believed in Mermaids, Barbara O’Neal draws us into the story with her crisp prose, well-drawn settings, and compelling characters, in whom we invest our hearts as we experience the full range of human emotion and, ultimately, celebrate their triumph over the past.”
—Grace Greene, author of The Memory of Butterflies and the Wildflower House series
“When We Believed in Mermaids is a deftly woven tale of two sisters, separated by tragedy and reunited by fate, discovering that the past isn’t always what it seems. By turns shattering and life affirming, as luminous and mesmerizing as the sea by which it unfolds, this is a book club essential—definitely one for the shelf!”
—Kerry Anne King, bestselling author of Whisper Me This
THE ART OF INHERITING SECRETS
“Great writing, terrific characters, food elements, romance, a touch of intrigue, and more than a few surprises to keep readers guessing.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Settle in with tea and biscuits for a charming adventure about inheriting an English manor and the means to restore it. Vivid descriptions and characters that read like best friends will stay with you long after this delightful story has ended.”
—Cynthia Ellingsen, bestselling author of The Lighthouse Keeper
“The Art of Inheriting Secrets is the story of one woman’s journey to uncovering her family’s hidden past. Set against the backdrop of a sprawling English manor, this book is ripe with mystery. It will have you guessing until the end!”
—Nicole Meier, author of The House of Bradbury and The Girl Made of Clay
“O’Neal’s clever title begins an intriguing journey for readers that unfolds layer by surprising layer. Her respected, masterful storytelling blends mystery, art, romance, and mayhem in a quaint English village and breathtaking countryside. Brilliant!”
—Patricia Sands, bestselling author of the Love in Provence series
ALSO BY BARBARA O’NEAL
This Place of Wonder
Write My Name Across the Sky
The Lost Girls of Devon
When We Believed in Mermaids
The Art of Inheriting Secrets
The Lost Recipe for Happiness
The Secret of Everything
How to Bake a Perfect Life
The Garden of Happy Endings
The All You Can Dream Buffet
No Place Like Home
A Piece of Heaven
The Goddesses of Kitchen Avenue
Lady Luck’s Map of Vegas
The Scent of Hours
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Otherwise, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2023 by Barbara Samuel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781662513312 (hardcover)
ISBN-13: 9781542038096 (paperback)
ISBN-13: 9781542038089 (digital)
Cover design by Shasti O’Leary Soudant
Cover image: ©seksan wangkeeree / Shutterstock; ©Nikiparonak / Shutterstock; ©eddie linssen / Alamy Stock Photo / Alamy; ©Carrie Cole / Alamy Stock Photo / Alamy
First edition
For Amara and Arya and Séamus:
Be mighty.
Be b
Be anything you want to be.
Most of all, be yourself, because
you are amazing just as you are.
Contents
Prologue
SIX MONTHS AGO
SUZE OGDEN TARGET OF BRUTAL ATTACK BY LNB
CURRENT DAY
Chapter One Phoebe
Chapter Two Suze
Chapter Three Phoebe
THEN YOU’VE GOT A FRIEND
Phoebe
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Four Suze
Chapter Five Phoebe
Chapter Six Suze
Chapter Seven Phoebe
THEN MAYBE I’M AMAZED
October 12, 19— . . .
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Eight Suze
Chapter Nine Phoebe
THEN I THINK I LOVE YOU
Phoebe
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Ten Suze
THEN I DON’T KNOW HOW TO LOVE HIM
Monday, Thanksgiving Week . . .
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Eleven Phoebe
Chapter Twelve Suze
Chapter Thirteen Phoebe
THEN NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN
SUZE
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Fourteen Suze
Chapter Fifteen Phoebe
THEN I CAN HEAR YOU CALLING
May 30, 19— . . .
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Sixteen Suze
Chapter Seventeen Phoebe
THEN WHAT IF WE WENT TO ITALY?
Phoebe
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Eighteen Suze
Chapter Nineteen Phoebe
THEN HELLO, DARKNESS
Suze
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Twenty Suze
THEN THE TRACKS OF MY TEARS
Phoebe
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Twenty-One Phoebe
THEN SAVE YOUR TEARS
5/25/22 . . .
CURRENT DAY
Chapter Twenty-Two Suze
Chapter Twenty-Three Phoebe
Chapter Twenty-Four Suze
Chapter Twenty-Five Phoebe
Chapter Twenty-Six Suze
Chapter Twenty-Seven Phoebe
Chapter Twenty-Eight Suze
Chapter Twenty-Nine Phoebe
Chapter Thirty Suze
NOW F*CKING PERFECT
Chapter Thirty-One Suze
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Prologue
Then
Joel hid in the woods until he saw them drive away in the preacher’s white Chevrolet. Suze sat in the back seat, her shaved head so raw and painfully intimate. Her father drove, hands hard on the wheel. If Joel had believed for one second it would help her, he would have flung himself on the hood, holding on to halt them. A wild part of him wanted to do it anyway, give her a chance to run away.
But he’d tried that already. She would only be punished again.
So he waited in the cover of trees until the darkness was complete, then crept from his hiding place and took out the first can of lighter fluid. He squirted it methodically along the base of the church in a complete circle, then soaked the wooden steps.
Inside, he splashed pews randomly, and the aisle, and the windowsills beneath the indifferent geometric stained glass. He didn’t hesitate to climb up to the altar, and he took his time, soaking every inch of the pulpit and the floor where the old man stood to preach his lies. His hands shook unexpectedly with a rage and sorrow he feared would devour him. He took a moment to steady himself, imagining the fire consuming the preacher alive. Calmly, he lit a match and flung it on the pulpit. When it caught, he moved without hurry down the center aisle, tossing matches on the pews. By the time he made it to the door, the pulpit was fully engulfed and fire raced along the floor. He took one moment to look back and then walked out, wiping away tears and snot from his face.
He disappeared into the night, hiding in the deep forest until fire leaped high into the sky, orange sparks against the night, taking pride that even though the volunteer fire department made it to the scene in less than ten minutes, it was far, far too late.
SIX MONTHS AGO
SUZE OGDEN TARGET OF BRUTAL ATTACK BY LNB
LOS ANGELES (AP)—Suze Ogden, the Oscar- and Emmy Award–winning actress, was severely beaten in front of her home in the Hollywood Hills early this morning. Camera footage showed two assailants, but no perpetrators have been apprehended. The Leviathan Nationalist Brotherhood, LNB, a hate group that has targeted a number of high-profile women in recent years, has claimed responsibility.
Ogden is best known for her role as Julia Brandeis in the historical drama A Woman for the Ages, a role that won worldwide acclaim, including an Oscar for best actress. She currently plays the steely and conflicted matriarch Alice Peterson in Going Home Again.
The LNB has targeted celebrities, media stars, and politicians they have declared enemies of the state. Last year they claimed responsibility for the death of first-year senator Nadine Truelove, one of the youngest politicians to ever serve as a California senator. Ogden has been outspoken in her criticism of the arm of evangelical Christianity in which she grew up, which has drawn the ire of more than the LNB.
A spokesperson for the trauma unit at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center said Ogden was rushed into surgery and her prognosis is unclear. At the moment, she remains in a medically induced coma, in critical condition.
CURRENT DAY
Chapter One
Phoebe
Suze arrives home in the middle of the night, when there is less chance of anyone noticing her arrival. I know she’s coming because she texted me yesterday, one of the first communications we’ve had since I left her in the hospital after she was brutally attacked last spring. She’s been my best friend since we were twelve, but a lot has happened over those years. Most recently, we had a massive fight at my grandmother’s funeral last year, and both of us said things that should never have been spoken aloud. I wasn’t sure I’d ever talk to her again.
And yet—
Six months ago, a radical group called the Leviathan Nationalist Brotherhood attacked her outside her home and nearly beat her to death. How could I abandon her to lie in a hospital with only hangers-on and people she pays? Since Dmitri died, she’s been a hermit. I took the first flight to LA and sat by her side until she finally woke up. She squeezed my hand and thanked me and then told me it was okay if I went home.
So I did, swallowing the rejection I probably deserved.
And now she’s home. Things are . . . complicated between us. I miss her. I resent her. She infuriates me. She needs me.
This morning, I’m up early to get some painting time in before life overtakes me. As I stand at my kitchen counter, waiting for the kettle to boil, I rest one foot over the other and nibble a slice of freshly baked cranberry bread. It’s tender and dense, redolent with orange, one of the best batches I’ve made for a while. Maybe I’ll take some up to Suze later.
The urge exasperates me. No matter what happens between us, I can’t seem to shake this compulsion to take care of her. As my grandmother did before me.
To be fair, my grandmother also took care of me and everyone else. Shut-ins. Recovering addicts. The elderly in her church. Young mothers. She had a gift for it. Not the self-sacrificing, old-school kind of caretaking, but a matter-of-fact recognition that we all need love and tending. She didn’t chop bits of herself off and give them up to others, as I’ve been known to do.
I peer out the window. From here, I can see the big house on top of the bluff. Lights are on, both in the foyer and the kitchen, which has wraparound windows that face south and west to display the best ocean views for thirty-seven miles, views of sea stacks and rocks and wild surf, the small coves hidden everywhere.
Our house. A song of the same name floats through my mind, delicate as mist. The house I discovered when we were kids, the house Suze bought out from under me, the house that has become her refuge, and how can I resent that?
Except sometimes I still do, even though I have my own refuge in this house and the studio I inherited from my grandmother.
The kettle whistles. I pour water over the Golden Eyebrow tea leaves in my cup, set the timer on my phone to let it brew. Break off another bite of cranberry bread.
She’s home. I’m both longing to run up the hill to see her for myself and reluctant. Afraid of rejection, if I’m honest.
