A sweeping southern women’s fiction novel about forgiving the past one letter at a time—from the author of When Never Comes . A year ago, Dovie Larkin’s life was shattered when her fiancé committed suicide just weeks before their wedding. Now, plagued by guilt, she has become a fixture at the cemetery where William is buried, visiting his grave daily, waiting for answers she knows will never come. Then one day, she sees an old woman whose grief mirrors her own. Fascinated, she watches the woman leave a letter on a nearby grave. Dovie ignores her conscience and reads the letter—a mother’s plea for forgiveness to her dead daughter—and immediately needs to know the rest of the story. As she delves deeper, a collection of letters from the cemetery’s lost and found  begins to unravel a decades-old mystery involving one of Charleston’s wealthiest families. But even as Dovie seeks to answer questions about another woman’s past—questions filled with deception, betrayal, and heartbreaking loss—she starts to discover the keys to love, forgiveness, and finally embracing the future... Praise for Love, Alice “ Love, Alice is part romance and part mystery, but at its heart is a beautifully layered story about surviving tragedy and discovering new connections in surprising and unexpected ways. The emotional journeys of the three main characters are made more engrossing by the descriptive language of Ms. Davis's writing and by the Charleston setting that is as much a character as the living, breathing ones.”—Karen White, New York Times bestselling author “ Love Alice  is a masterfully told tale of secrets, lies, and regrets. Wrapped up with a good dollop of southern life, it is a powerful story about how families both hurt and heal one another. I loved every word!”—Barbara Claypole White, award-winning author of  The Perfect Son “There are few things as delicious as settling down to read a new Barbara Davis novel, and Love, Alice is every bit as intriguing and emotional a story as I’d anticipated. Heartfelt and beautifully written, Love Alice may be Barbara Davis’s finest work yet.”—Diane Chamberlain, USA Today bestselling author More Praise for the Novels of Barbara Davis   “Davis’s writing is heartfelt and effective.”— Kirkus Reviews   “[Davis’s] characters shine with wit and charm.”—Erica Marks, author of The Last Treasure   “Davis is genuinely proving herself to be one of the strongest new voices of epic romance.”— RT Book Reviews (4½ stars) After spending more than a decade as an executive in the jewelry business, Barbara Davis decided to leave the corporate world to finally pursue her lifelong passion for writing. She is the author of When Never Comes ;  Love, Alice ;  Summer at Hideaway Key ; The Wishing Tide ; and The Secrets She Carried . She currently lives in Rochester, New Hampshire, with her husband Tom, and their beloved ginger cat, Simon, and is working on her next book. ***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof*** Copyright © 2016 Barbara Davis Prologue Blackhurst Asylum for Unwed Mothers Cornwall, England January 6, 1962 The place smells of sickness and damp—of tears and misery and shame. Alice places a hand on her belly as the familiar flutter comes again, soft beatings like an angel’s wings against her insides. Her baby. Her angel. The wave of sickness comes next, as it always does after the flutterings, a clammy surge of heat and nausea that threatens to buckle her knees. She swallows it down, scrubs the sudden moistness from her palms, and turns one last time to glance over her shoulder, praying Mam has changed her mind about leaving her in this terrible place, with its cold walls and colder faces. She hasn’t. “This way, girl,” comes a disembodied voice from the nameless black-clad nun in front of her. “There’s more here than just you to tend, so be quick.” Tears threaten again, scorching lids already raw with days of crying, of begging, of pleading. Alice blinks them away, then drags a hand over her eyes for good measure. She has found no mercy at home, and she’ll find none here, so what good are her tears? She won’t cry again. Not for Mam, or for Sennen Cove, either, with its sweeping coast and Cornish blue sea, or even for Johnny, who is long past tears now, lost somewhere at the bottom of the sea he loved so well. And tears aren’t good for the baby. Besides, her heart is too torn to think of Johnny just now, too hollowed out by the terrible words her mother has flung at her. Words meant to judge and shame. Words Alice can never forget—never forgive. The nameless sister is moving away now. Alice has no choice but to scurry after her. The nun’s feet are invisible beneath the folds of her black habit, strangely silent on the uneven stone floor. Finally, they halt before a heavy gray door with a small pane of glass near the top. The door is pushed open and the nun stands aside, waiting, chilly and stiff jawed, for Alice to enter. Alice s