Welcome to Fork—where the coffee is hot, the gossip is hotter, and every secret eventually comes to light.

All Rose Allen wants is a clean slate. Leaving behind a complicated past, she has settled into the quiet rhythms of running Rose’s Delmonico Diner in the tiny, eccentric prairie town of Fork. Between the red-checkered tablecloths, fresh pie, and a steady stream of quirky regulars, Rose thinks she’s finally found peace.

Then there’s Dan Owens. The tall, soft-spoken local handyman isn't like the men in Rose's past. Whether he’s crafting handmade display cases, fending off overbearing local lawmen, or enduring disastrous movie dates involving skunks and broken straps, Dan’s quiet devotion slowly chips away at the walls Rose built around her heart.

But quiet towns have loud secrets. Beneath the daily banter at Absalom’s Tavern across the street, the historical society’s feuds, and the town’s bizarre misadventures, an unsolved murder hangs over Fork. When a nosy deputy pushes too close and old shadows threaten her newfound freedom, Rose finds herself at a crossroads.

Will she keep running from yesterday, or is it finally time to take a chance on love and a future in Fork?

Mayor Ollie Oelwein hoisted his rear onto the last empty stool at Rose's Delmonico Diner counter. He turned and mumbled, "Twelve citizens, not countin' you and me."

"You going?" Rose Allen asked.

"Of course," the mayor said. "Got to. Look at all these people. No doubt they are goin'. Best gathering I've seen in Fork for some time."

"I may run out of doughnuts," Rose said.

"What?" the mayor said. "Can't hear much above the chatter."

Rose leaned closer and repeated the statement. She pushed slender fingers through long, gleaming silky blond hair, moved a strand from her forehead, sighed, and glided from behind the counter. She interrupted and sometimes joined in conversations as she refilled coffee cups at the six ancient tables, their scars hidden by red checkered tablecloths.

The material of her white polyester waitress uniform moved with the flow of her legs and buttocks. Some male eyes focused higher where curves bounced and breathed.

She returned to behind the counter and said, "Everybody's talking about the snowstorm again. I haven't heard a single rumor this morning about the murder. Kinda strange, people talking in July about a snowstorm."

"Well," the mayor said, "there's principles involved here. No, sir, Daniel Owens just can't get away with what he did. You goin' ain't ya?"

"No," Rose said. "Won't be any business, but I'm not going down there and watch Daniel make a fool of himself."

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