Featured Series: The Hudson Sisters
“Loaded with appealing down-home characters and tantalizing hints of mystery that will hook readers immediately… Stewart expertly combines the inevitable angst of a trio of sisters, a family secret, and a search for an heirloom necklace; it’s an irresistible mix that will delight readers. Masterful characterizations and well-timed plot are sure to pull in fans of romantic small-town stories.” — Publishers Weekly
Meet Mariah:
Mariah Stewart is the New York Times, Publishers Weekly, and USA Todaybestselling author of forty-one novels, three novellas, and several short stories, and has been featured in the Wall Street Journal. She has been a RITA finalist in romantic suspense and the recipient of the Award of Excellence for contemporary romance, a RIO Award for excellence in women's fiction, and has received a Reviewers Choice Award from Romantic Times Magazine. A three-time winner of the Golden Leaf Award presented by the New Jersey Romance Writers, Stewart was recently awarded their Lifetime Achievement Award and is in their Hall of Fame. She is the author of several bestselling contemporary romance series, including the Chesapeake Diaries; the Hudson Sisters, a women's fiction trilogy, and several series of suspense novels (the Dead series, the Mercy Street series, among others), and has been published by Random House and Simon and Schuster. She is currently working on a new novel of women's fiction.
A native of Hightstown, NJ, Mariah lives in Chester County, PA, with her husband of forty years and two rowdy rescue dogs. The mother of two adult daughters, she's the happy grandmother of five.
Q&A
C.H.: What is the title of the first book you published?
Mariah: Moments in Time. I entered it in New Jersey Romance
Writers Golden Leaf contest that year, in the first book catagory. Imagine my
total DUH moment when I got a call that the book had won - not Best First Book
but Best Contemporary Romance! Wheeeee!!!!!!!!!
C.H.: Do you remember where you were when you got the call?
Mariah: Yes!
I was at work! It wasn't your typical call, though.
You see, at the end of the book, I'd killed off not only my hero, but the
heroine as well. Yes, I did that. My agent had sent out the book but several
editors went thumbs down because of the ending. So when that one editor told my
agent she'd buy the book - and my next one! - if I let them live. That was
Friday afternoon. By Tuesday morning, I had the revised ending on not only my
agent's desk, but the editor's as well. I got a call from my agent on Tuesday
afternoon that the book was sold to Pocket Books.
C.H.: Do you have a favorite series that you have written?
Mariah:
I've written so many series since
my first books were published in 1995, it's hard to pick one. I loved my DEAD
books - my first suspense series - and I love the Chesapeake Diaries and the
Mercy Street series and would love to write another one or two of those. And of
course, my most recent series, the Hudson Sisters - it's loosely based on
something that happened to my mother (she was in her fifties when she learned
her father had had another family in another state!!! Well, who wouldn't want
to write about THAT?!). Right now, I'm focused on the proposal for a brand new
series that I'm loving.
C.H.: Any favorite character or characters that still wake you up at night?
Mariah: This is a tough question - I've published over 40 books!
I guess Grace Sinclair and Ruby Carter in the Chesapeake books, Zoey Enright in
the Devlin's Light series, are some of my favorites. Mallory Russo and
Trula Comfort and Father Kevin Burch in the Mercy Street books because they
insist they aren't finished with me yet and that there's another story or three
to tell. I keep wanting to do another book in that series with Mallory and her
guy, Charlie Wanamaker, as leads, but I haven't had time.
C.H.: Do you prefer to plot out your stories, or do you just wing it?
Mariah: I
would dearly love to be able to plot out my books! It would save me so much
aggravation when I realized I'd written myself into a corner! But alas, I
always seem to fly by the seat of my pants.
Where to find Mariah Stewart :
Instagram:
@mariah_stewart_books
The
Hudson Sisters series follows a trio of reluctant sisters as they set out to
fulfill their father’s dying wish. In the process, they find not only
themselves, but the father they only thought they knew.
When
celebrated and respected agent Fritz Hudson passes away, he leaves a trail of
Hollywood glory in his wake—and two separate families who never knew the other
existed. Allie and Des Hudson are products of Fritz’s first marriage to Honora,
a beautiful but troubled starlet whose life ended in a tragic overdose.
Meanwhile, Fritz was falling in love on the Delaware Bay with New Age hippie
Susa Pratt—they had a daughter together, Cara, and while Fritz loved Susa with
everything he had, he never quite managed to tell her or Cara about his West
Coast family.
Now Fritz is gone, and the three sisters are brought together
under strange circumstances: there’s a large inheritance to be had that could
save Allie from her ever-deepening debt following a disastrous divorce, allow
Des to continue to support her rescue shelter for abused and wounded animals,
and give Cara a fresh start after her husband left her for one of her best
friends—but only if the sisters upend their lives and work together to restore
an old, decrepit theater that was Fritz’s obsession growing up in his small
hometown in Pennsylvania’s Pocono Mountains. Guided by Fritz’s closest friend
and longtime attorney, Pete Wheeler, the sisters come together—whether they
like it or not—to turn their father’s dream into a reality, and might just come
away with far more than they bargained for.
Excerpt
from THE LAST CHANCE MATINEE:
“Your father left a large estate. The
sum you’re each going to inherit will be significant. Assuming that you meet
the rest of the conditions.”
“What conditions?” Cara asked warily.
Now came the hard part. Pete cleared
his throat again, and launched into the part of the disclosure that he’d
rehearsed over and over.
“Your father loved all of you very
much. I know he didn’t always go out of his way to show it.” He directed these
remarks to Allie and Des.
“That’s an understatement,” grumbled
Allie. “If you call an occasional phone call proof of how much he loved us.”
She tossed a dagger at Cara. “Of course, now we know why he was so
preoccupied.”
Cara started to protest, but Pete raised
a hand. “Trust me, there will be plenty of time to snipe at each other later.”
“That sounds ominous,” Des said.
Pete continued with his speech. “As I
said, your father loved you all. He wanted more than anything for you to know
and love each other.”
“Which is why he kept her a secret.” Allie pointed in Cara’s
direction.
“He didn’t tell me about you, either,” Cara countered.
“Ladies. Please.” Pete placed a hand
on the top of his head, a habit once intended to smooth back his hair, which
was now pretty much gone.
“If it was so important to him that we
know each other, why didn’t he tell us himself?” Cara asked.
“Because at his core, he was a
coward.” There. He’d said it. “He just couldn’t face you. I think he believed
it didn’t matter so much because Nora was gone. Cara, after Susa died, he
couldn’t face you with the truth. So he let it go and was convinced that the
right time would present itself. As you know, it never did.”
“So what comes next?” Des asked
softly.
“Your father wanted you all to share
in not only his wealth, but in his life.”
“A little late on that score,” Allie
scoffed.
“Something he came to very much regret
at the end, believe me. He became obsessed with wanting you to know each other.
Which is why he left a challenge for the three of you. If you’re successful,
you inherit his entire estate. If you fail, you get nothing.”
The pronouncement was met with silence
and blank stares.
Finally, Allie said, “Please tell us
you’re kidding.”
“I assure you, I’m not. Nor was this
my idea, by the way,” Pete told them. “Believe me. I did everything I could to
talk him out of this. But he’d gotten it into his head that this was the way
to...”
“What
kind of challenge?” Cara blurted.
“Something
along the lines of the twelve labors of Hercules would be my guess.” Allie
folded her arms over her chest.
“Close, Allie. He wants the three of
you to restore an old theater in his hometown. Together.”
“Wait, what?”
“Say that again?”
“Restore a theater? Had he lost his
mind?”
Pete let the three of them vent for
several minutes.
“If you’ve finished with your
rantings, I’d like to continue.” He glanced from Allie to Des to Cara and back
again. When it appeared they’d settled down, he continued. “The theater was
built by your great-grandfather, Reynolds Hudson. It’s an Art Deco treasure and
belongs on the National Register of Historic Places.”
“What if the owner doesn’t want it
restored?” Cara asked.
“Fritz owned it. It’s now part of the
estate you stand to inherit. As I said, his grandfather built it, and the
family still owned it up until about twenty years ago. The new owner had plans
to completely renovate it, but grossly underestimated the cost and he ran out
of money before he could finish,” Pete explained. “When it was slated for
demolition about a year ago, Fritz bought it back. The fact that the building
itself has fallen into its present state bothered him right to the end because
it’s part of his family legacy.”
“Why did he sell it in the first
place, then, if it’s so important?” Des asked. “All I ever heard was that when
he was young, he worked in a theater and he met Mom there.”
“I never heard about it at all,” Cara
added. “And he never mentioned his family to me.”
“Me either, come to think of it,” Des
said. “Allie?”
“Nothing.”
“Understand where your father was
coming from. He really did have all intentions of restoring the theater
himself, went so far as to begin to solicit a few estimates for the work that
would need to be done. I don’t know how far he actually got with that because
it soon became apparent that he wasn’t going to live to see the project
through.” Pete hesitated, remembering the last days with his friend. He waited
for the lump in his throat to ease a bit before continuing. “So perhaps you’ll understand
why he made it a condition of your inheritance that the building be restored
and returned to use as a theater again.”
“It must’ve been the meds he was on.
They made him delusional,” Allie said. “He obviously wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Oh, believe me, he knew exactly what
he was doing. We talked it through, every which way,” Pete assured her.
“Then why didn’t you talk him out of
it?” Allie demanded.
“What can I say? You know your father,
he was never going to be talked out of this. He thought this was the way to
kill two birds with one stone. You get to know each other and the Sugarhouse
gets restored. It was win-win.”
“Ignoring the obvious problems with
that, how did he expect us to accomplish this?” Allie asked. “Surely he didn’t
expect...where is this place again?”
“Hidden Falls, Pennsylvania,” Pete
replied. “You know your dad and I grew up together in Pennsylvania, right?
“I knew he was from somewhere in
Pennsylvania, but Dad never wanted to talk about his childhood. Is Hidden Falls
anywhere near Philadelphia? Or Pittsburgh?” Des inquired.
“Or any civilized city?” Allie held up
crossed fingers.
“It’s in the Poconos. Population...”
Pete paused. “Actually, I have no idea
what the population is these days but it probably isn’t much.”
“The Poconos? Aren’t they mountains?”
Allie wrinkled her nose in obvious distaste. “Wait. Not the place with all
those tacky heart-shaped bathtubs?”
“That’s right.” Pete smiled. “The
honeymoon capital of the world.”
“Well, I have no intention of playing
this silly game,” Allie turned to the other two women. “Either or both of you
can play along, but I for one...”
“...will inherit nothing.” Pete cut
in. “As a matter of fact, none of you will inherit anything. The money will
then go to charities of my choosing.”
Allie wheeled around, ready to
explode. Before she could speak, Pete said, “If any one of you refuses, or
leaves before the theater is restored, none of you will inherit a dime.”
“All for one and one for all,” Des
muttered.
“You said ‘leaves’,” Cara said
cautiously. “Leaves where?”
“While you’re working on this project,
you’ll live together in your father’s family home, the house your
great-grandfather built?”
“No way.”
“Not gonna’ happen.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“Couldn’t be more serious,” Pete told
them.
“Live with her? You can’t mean it.” A
clearly horrified Allie glared at Cara.
“Which means I would have to live with the two of you,” Cara replied. “Frankly,
I think I’m getting the worst of the deal.”
“Okay, let’s say we agreed to do
this.” Des pondered aloud. “How are we supposed to pay for this renovation? I’m
assuming, if the building had been on someone’s demo list, it must need a lot
of work. Where’s the money coming from?”
“From the estate. Your dad put money
aside for the project in a special account. Might be a good idea to choose one
of you to be in charge of the checkbook, because if you go over what he
projected, it’ll be up to you to come up with the rest of the funds.” He
pointed his pen in Des’s direction. “Des, that might be a good job for you.
Your dad told me many times how well you’ve handled the money you made from
your TV series. How wisely you invested.”
Cara frowned. “What TV series?”
“Long story,” Des told her.
“Apparently we’ll have lots of time to catch up.”
“So Dad just expected us to waltz out of
our lives to do a job he should’ve done.” Allie voiced what the other two
clearly were thinking. “We have lives, you know. What about my daughter? This
is outrageously inconvenient and thoughtless of him.”
“Your daughter is living with her father
and can continue to do so until school is out.” Pete’s patience was nearing its
end. “As for you, you’re unemployed with no immediate prospects and on the
verge of losing your house. So if you ask me, it’s a plenty convenient time for
you.” Allie started to object, but Pete cut her off.
“Des, you’re living off your investments
and don’t have to work, and you won’t be leaving much behind this time of the
year except the Montana winter.”
He turned to Cara. “You own your
business and have a remarkably qualified assistant who’s been begging to buy in
for the past year. Now’s a good time to see how she’d do as a potential
partner.” He looked around at the three of them. “There’s no real hardship
involved for any of you, when you get right down to it. This is your father’s
last wish. Complying is all that stands between you and your inheritance.”
“I still don’t understand why he did
this,” Cara said.
“Well, I’ve tried to explain it all as
best I could.” Pete opened a desk drawer and took out a small device. “Now it’s
time you hear directly from your dad.”
“What?” Cara asked.
“Your father left an audio letter for
you. He wanted me to play it after I’d gone over the terms of his will.” He
clicked a switch and sat back. A moment later, the women heard their father’s
voice.
“Is this thing on? Pete, is it on?”
“It’s on, Fritz. Go ahead.”
“Okay. Well, girls, if you’re
listening to this – and if old Pete here has done his duty to me – I’m ashes in
a jar and the three of you have just been hit with a bombshell. I owe each of
you an apology, for things I did and didn’t do. There isn’t time enough for me
to go into every way I’ve failed you, but please know that I am sorry to my
soul for not being the father you all deserve. Know that I love the three of
you more than anything in this world...this world, the next world. Whichever
world I land in.” He chuckled at his attempt to make a joke, then coughed.
A moment passed before he resumed. “I
want you to understand that I loved your mothers, both of them, in my own way,
and in their own time. Don’t think for a minute that any of my actions were the
result of anything you did. Allie, I’m talking to you especially here. You just
remember that last conversation we had and remember what I told you.” He paused
and coughed again. When he resumed speaking, his voice was a bit weaker. “Des,
I’m sorry for not standing up to your mother when you needed me to. I shouldn’t
have let her bully you into doing things you didn’t want to do.” More coughing.
“Cara Mia, I’m sorry for the lies. Sorry that I let you and Susa live a lie for
all these years. Sorry that I...” Cough cough. “That I left all this in Pete’s
lap.” The voice grew faint, as if Fritz had turned from the recorder. “Pete,
you’re the best friend a guy ever had. I love you like a brother...” Again a
cough, longer, harsher this time.
Then, Pete’s voice. “Fritz, that’s
enough.”
“No. I need to tell them about the
theater. Why it matters.”
“I’ll tell them.”
“But...”
“I promise. I’ll tell them.” A heavy
sigh from Pete. “Say goodbye, Fritz.”
An even heavier sigh from Fritz.
“Goodbye, girls. Be good to each other. Trust each other and yourselves. Do
what I’ve ask you to do, and all will be well in the end. I promise. Love you.
Always.”
Pete wiped his eyes and turned off the
recorder. The only sound in the room was the sniffling of the three women as
tears ran down their faces. He handed Cara a box of tissues. She took several
and passed the box on to Des, who shared it with Allie.
When they finally all composed
themselves, Cara pointed to the now-silent recorder. “When did he make that?”
“The afternoon before he died,” Pete
replied.
“When did he tell you that he was sick?”
Des asked.
“The same day he found out,” Pete admitted.
“He had very little time to put his house in order.”
“What happened to his ashes?” Cara
asked.
Pete pointed to a large, shiny silver
urn on the top shelf of the bookcase across the room.
“You mean, he’s here?” Allie’s eyes
widened. “He’s been here this entire time?”
“In a sense, yes.” Pete watched in
amusement as all three women turned and stared at the urn. “I know this has all
come as a huge shock to you, and I know that what your dad asked of you
is...well, unusual, to say the least. But once the theater is up and running
again, you’ll bury his cremains in his family’s cemetery next to his parents.
Then you’ll all be free to go about your lives and you never have to see each
other again.”
He waited for someone to comment. When
no one did, he continued.
“Okay. Also inside your envelopes,
you’ll find directions to the house in Hidden Falls. Your father gave you each
one month from today to arrive at that address. I remind you that all three of
you must arrive on that date, or none of you will get a dime. If any one of you
leaves before the theater is finished, the money goes to charity. I hope I made
that clear.” He stood, feeling satisfied. He’d kept his final promises to his
old friend. “Any last questions?”
No one spoke.
“Good. Well, don’t hesitate to call if
you think of anything. Otherwise, I expect you’ll all comply with your dad’s
wishes.”
Again, silence.
“All righty, then.” Pete walked to the
door and opened it. “Keep in touch, girls. Let me know how it goes.”
Pete hugged each of the three women
and planted a kiss on their foreheads as they wordlessly filed out of the
office. Pete walked them to the elevator, pushed the button for down, and stood
aside as the three silently entered the car together. When the door slid
closed, he walked back to his office, relieved that his part in Fritz’s mess
was, for the time being, over.
“How’d it go?” Marjorie asked as he
passed her desk.
Pete rolled his eyes.
“As we suspected,” she replied. “Well,
it’s certainly going to be interesting to watch this play out.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You think they’ll be able to do it?”
“Once they come around to the idea,
sure. Whether or not they can without killing each other...” Pete shrugged.
“Did you tell them about Barney?”
“Nope. Left that part out.” Pete entered
his office, adding over his shoulder, “There should be something for them to
discover on their own.”
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