NEW YORK TIMES  BESTSELLER • From Mariah Stewart comes a captivating and heartwarming novel in her beloved Chesapeake Diaries contemporary romance series—perfect for fans of Barbara Freethy, Robyn Carr, and Susan Mallery.   Carly Summit’s name couldn’t be more fitting, since in life she always lands on top. She grew up wealthy and privileged in a tony Connecticut town, opened her own gallery in New York City, and is about to make art world history displaying previously unknown works by a prominent twentieth-century painter. No wonder she possesses a can-do attitude that can’t be soured. Ford Sinclair is another story. A military career in war-torn Africa, where he witnessed unspeakable violence and suffering, has left him haunted and deeply cynical. Now he’s looking for a way to forget and a place to belong. He hopes to find both back home in St. Dennis.   When Carly is forced to move the premiere of her new exhibit from her Manhattan gallery to St. Dennis, and Ford agrees to temporarily take over the town’s paper, the two cross paths. While Ford is confounded by Carly’s unflappable good cheer, he can’t help being drawn to her. And undaunted by Ford’s restless heart, Carly sees a man worth caring for. But when a late-night phone call sends Ford back to Africa, Carly’s left to wonder if the pull of the past and its ghosts will prove stronger than the promise of their future together.   Advance praise for On Sunset Beach   “Mariah Stewart’s rich characterization, charming setting, and a romance you’ll never forget will have you packing your bags for St. Dennis.” —#1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr Advance praise for On Sunset Beach   “Mariah Stewart’s rich characterization, charming setting, and a romance you’ll never forget will have you packing your bags for St. Dennis.” —#1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr Mariah Stewart is the award-winning New York Times bestselling author of more than thirty novels of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. A native of Hightstown, New Jersey, she lives with her husband and their dogs amid the rolling hills and Amish farms of southern Chester County, Pennsylvania, where she gardens, reads, and enjoys country life. Chapter 1 I spent much of today contemplating ways to kill my husband. “Whoa! Way to kick off a new year!” Carly Summit’s eyebrows rose as she read the entry dated 1 January, 1905, in the journal she’d received in the mail that afternoon. If James continues to deny me my artistic pursuits—-as he so arrogantly professes he will do—- I shall be forced to do something . . . well, something dire. While he voiced no such misgivings before we were married, suddenly he fears that the reputation of an up--and--coming banker (such as himself) would be tainted should his wife accept money for her work. Have I not promised to never use my married name on my work, that the RYDER name would remain pure and unsullied by my craft? Is the man really so simpleminded that he believes an ultimatum such as the one he issued at dinner would have me put down my brushes and destroy my canvases? Is his ego truly so fragile that he fears societal censure should I accept payment for my paintings? Can he really expect me to choose him over my work? Had I suspected his narrow--mindedness before the wedding, I swear this marriage would never have happened. As it is, I shall simply ignore him. Hmm. My work . . . his life. Sometimes I think the choice is simple enough. Carly sighed heavily and jotted the date and the sentiment in the notebook she kept by her side. As an art dealer and owner of upscale galleries in New York, Boston, and Chicago, and managing partner of several abroad, she was well familiar with stories of women who had been discouraged or even forbidden to pursue their art. But Carolina Ellis’s story was more immediate and more intimate, partly because Carly was reading the story in its entirety in the artist’s own words, partly because the artist was the great--great--grandmother of Carly’s best friend, Ellie Ryder, and partly because Carly had recently discovered a cache of previously unknown works by this remarkable early--twentieth--century artist. Carly had spent days examining each individual painting, but it had been through studying the collection as a whole that she was able to follow the artist’s journey. Carolina’s own words had opened a window into her very soul, a window through which Carly had been able to observe the artist’s growth as she experimented with different media while seeking to gain her creative footing. Starting with pastels, Carolina moved on to charcoal (which she’d pronounced “too moody”), then to watercolor, to oils, then back to watercolor again, where, her journal proclaimed, she’d found her best, most expressive self. Using the journals and the paintings that were available to her, Carly had created an artistic time line that permitted her to trace