Maddie is determined to uncover the untold story about the town's sordid past—her past. As a child, Maddie lost everything, and now she's back at the scene of the scandal—a local establishment that's always belonged to the Hennessys—determined to uncover the truth, and nothing is going to stand in her way. Especially not a black-haired, blue-eyed Hennessy. Everyone in Truly knows that the Hennessy men are irresistible, and the current owner, Mick, is no exception. His late father was a skirt-chasing heartbreaker who ended up causing disaster for two families. So far, Mick's managed to keep the ladies in line, but when he claps eyes on Maddie, with her luscious curves and tempting lips, he can't resist getting tangled up with her. But Maddie is keeping secrets, not the least of which is her true reason for being in town. And when Mick discovers what‘s really going on, there is going to be a whole lot of trouble in Truly. Maddie is determined to uncover the untold story about the town's sordid past—her past. As a child, Maddie lost everything, and now she's back at the scene of the scandal—a local establishment that's always belonged to the Hennessys—determined to uncover the truth, and nothing is going to stand in her way. Especially not a black-haired, blue-eyed Hennessy. Everyone in Truly knows that the Hennessy men are irresistible, and the current owner, Mick, is no exception. His late father was a skirt-chasing heartbreaker who ended up causing disaster for two families. So far, Mick's managed to keep the ladies in line, but when he claps eyes on Maddie, with her luscious curves and tempting lips, he can't resist getting tangled up with her. But Maddie is keeping secrets, not the least of which is her true reason for being in town. And when Mick discovers what‘s really going on, there is going to be a whole lot of trouble in Truly. Rachel Gibson began her fiction career at age sixteen, when she ran her car into the side of a hill, retrieved the bumper, and drove to a parking lot, where she strategically scattered the car’s broken glass all about. She told her parents she’d been the victim of a hit-and-run and they believed her. She’s been making up stories ever since, although she gets paid better for them nowadays. Tangled Up In You LP By Rachel Gibson HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. Copyright © 2007 Rachel Gibson All right reserved. ISBN: 9780061340932 Chapter One The glowing white neon above Mort's Bar pulsed and vibrated and attracted the thirsty masses of Truly, Idaho, like a bug light. But Mort's was more than a beer magnet. More than just a place to drink cold Coors and get into a fight on Friday nights. Mort's had historical significance—kind of like the Alamo. While other establishments came and went in the small town, Mort's had always stayed the same. Until about a year ago when the new owner had spruced the place up with gallons of Lysol and paint and had instituted a strict no-panty-tossing policy. Before that, throwing undies like a ring-toss up onto the row of antlers above the bar had been encouraged as a sort of indoor sporting event. Now, if a woman felt the urge to toss, she got tossed out on her bare ass. Ah, the good old days. Maddie Jones stood on the sidewalk in front of Mort's and stared up at the sign, completely immune to the subliminal lure that the light sent out through the impending darkness. An indistinguishable hum of voices and music leached through the cracks in the old building sandwiched between Ace Hardware and the Panda Restaurant. A couple in jeans and tank tops brushed past Maddie. The door opened and the sound of voices and the unmistakable twang of country music spilled out onto Main Street. The door closed and Maddie remained standing outside. She adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder, then pulled up the zipper on her bulky blue sweater. She hadn't lived in Truly for twenty-nine years, and she'd forgotten how cool it got at night. Even in July. Her hand lifted toward the old door, then dropped to her side. A surprising rush of apprehension raised the hair on the back of her neck and tilted her stomach. She'd done this dozens of times. So why the apprehension? Why now? she asked herself, even though she knew the answer. Because it was personal this time, and once she opened that door, once she took the first step, there was no going back. If her friends could see her, standing there as if her feet were set in the concrete, they'd be shocked. She'd interviewed serial killers and cold-blooded murderers, but chatting up nut jobs with anti-social personality disorders was a piece of cake compared to what waited for her inside Mort's. Beyond the No One Under 21 sign, her past waited for her, and as she'd learned recently, digging into other people's pasts was a hell of a lot easier than digging into her own. "For God's sake," she muttered and reached for the door. She was a little disgusted with herself for being such a wimp and a weenie, an