Spotlight & Giveaway: A Little Ray of Sunshine by Kristan Higgins

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Kristan Higgins’s new release: A Little Ray of Sunshine

A kid walks into your bookstore and says to you, Guess what? I’m your son. The one you put up for adoption seventeen years ago. The one you never told anyone about. Surprise!

 
His name is Matthew Walker, and he’s come to spend the summer on the Cape with his parents. Why? Well, he wants to meet you before he heads off to college in the fall. Tiny detail—he didn’t tell his adoptive parents about his plan. And while you hoped this day would come someday, you’re so stunned, you actually faint. You’re overjoyed (and stunned) and worried (and stunned) and you’ve yearned to meet him, but you didn’t know it would be like this. Did you mention feeling stunned?

Even more gobsmacked is your family. The Smiths looked like (and thought they were) the perfect family in town. How could Harlow, the “boring sister” who runs the bookstore with her dotty old grandfather, have a secret baby? How did she keep this secret for so long?

More than the truth of that baby will come out over the summer ahead, a summer filled with emotion as more than one secret is revealed, long-lost hurts are discovered…and one slightly lost soul realizes the best of everything is yet to come.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from A Little Ray of Sunshine 

98 Kr i s tan Higgins
There was wine, of course, and I grabbed a glass and drank it fast enough to make it go to my head. Some nice appetizers. I ate a mozzarella ball covered in pesto, then a little hot dog wrapped in filo dough (delicious). People mingled and ate. Most people looked to be between thirty-five and fifty, with a few sixty-to- seventy-somethings tossed in. There was my Girl Scout leader, Mrs. Perry. Maybe she’d be interested in Grandpop. I tried to catch Robbie’s eye so he could facilitate something there, but he was flirting with Destiny.
“Hey,” said a voice.
I turned. “Grady! Hey. What are you doing here?” The penny dropped. “Oh. Right. Sorry. Are you . . . um, on the market again? Oh, gosh. Cringey. Sorry.”
His eyes crinkled in amusement. “It’s okay, and yeah. Fig- ured it’s time to start dating again.”
“Who’s looking after Luna? Your mom and dad, or your nanny?”
“She’s with the nanny. Probably asleep by now.”
“Got it.” What time had Matthew gone to bed when he was four? Had he been a good sleeper?
“You looking to date, Harlow?” Grady asked.
“Me? Oh, God, no,” I said. “I mean, no judgment, of course . . . I’m just here because Winnie summoned me. I think she needed bodies.” I was not doing a great job selling my sister’s

event. “I think it’s great to meet in person instead of on the apps, though. But for me, you know, my life is in a bit of turmoil. On account of . . . my son.” God. Those two words. “I think I’ll be spending some time with him next week,” I said, hoping it was true.
Grady handed me a napkin, and I wiped my eyes. “You okay?” he asked.
“Oh, sure. Crying is my resting state since I . . . you know.” “Understandable.” His green eyes stayed on mine for a min-
ute. Then he looked over my head, surveying the crowd. He’d have no problem tonight. Meaningful job, devoted dad, rather brilliant, great trivia player and not bad-looking, either. Funny, I’d known him so long, I’d never really noticed that before.
“Okay, people!” Winnie said in her drill sergeant voice, and I jumped. “Thank you for coming to Outer Cape Singles Night. We’ll do this speed-dating style, so take a seat, and you lucky people on this side”—she indicated one side of a long table—“move one seat over every time the bell rings. People on that side, stay put. You have five minutes to talk. Everyone can talk to everyone. It doesn’t have to be a romantic connection. Maybe you just want a new friend.”
“I do not,” Robbie said at the same time Grandpop said, “What a wonderful thought!”
Winnie continued, “If you want someone’s number, you write down their name. If you match, I’ll provide phone numbers. It’s not rocket science, is it? Everyone sit down, and we’ll get started.” “Good luck, Gray,” I said. “You’re a catch.” Another cringey statement, but he didn’t seem to mind. I went to find Grandpop.
“Where are we sitting, Grandpop?” I asked.
“Let’s start right here,” he said, plunking himself down on

the “stay put” side of the table. He was across from a very cute thirty-something guy with lots of gel in his hair and very long eyelashes. I was across from an attractive woman with short gray hair and many tattoos on her sculpted arms.
“Five minutes starting now!” Winnie said.
“I’m Kate,” my person said. “You smell amazing. Jo Malone?” “Um . . . no. Deep Woods Off.” I laughed. She did, too. “Lis- ten, Kate, I’m not actually looking for someone. I’m here with my
grandfather. Also, I’m straight. Sorry.”
“Oh,” she said. “Super.” She leaned back in her chair and waved to a waiter, who was carrying a tray of wine-filled glasses. “I’ll have one, too,” I said to the server. “Um, Kate, do you
want to practice with me?”
“Not really.” She took another sip of wine, her eyes wander- ing to other, eligible people. I felt guilty, as was my way.
“Hello!” said my grandfather to the young man. “I’ll go first. I’m looking for someone to take care of me in my dotage. Not quite there yet, though!”
“Cool!” said the young man. “I’m Drummer. Are you wealthy?” “Okay,” said I, leaning against Grandpop so Drummer would know my grandfather was chaperoned. “At least you’re direct. I’m his granddaughter and wingman. There will be no sugar daddy situations here.” I looked back at Kate, who looked ex-
tremely bored. “Um, Kate, what do you do for a living?” “I’m a bartender.”
“Cool! That must be fun!”
She gave me a please stop look, so I did.
“You’re a drummer!” exclaimed Grandpop. “How wonderful!” “No,” he said, “my name is Drummer, and I’m not at all
against having a sugar daddy.”

“What did I just say, Drummer?” I asked, rapping my knuck- les on the table.
“Do you play other instruments?” Grandpop asked. “Nope. My name, not my gig.”
“I see. Do you have any experience in nursing, sponge baths or cooking soft food?” Grandpop asked.
“I could learn, I guess,” Drummer said.
“You’d be her step-grandfather if things work out,” Kate told him, gesturing to me.
“You know,” said Drummer, “I have, like, mad respect for the greatest generation? World War II heroes, saving the world, am I right?”
“He’s just a bit younger than that,” I said, “but he did serve in Korea.”
“We had a war with Korea?” Drummer asked. “Oh, you’re joking. I get it. Do you like K-pop, sir?”
“God, kids are dumb today,” said Kate, draining her wine. “We certainly did have a war with Korea, young man!” said
Grandpop. “Now, listen, Cymbal. I’ve never been with anyone but my wife, God rest her soul. Not sure I can even function in that respect anymore, no offense to yourself. You’re a very hand- some boy—”
“Next!” Winnie yelled. “Sorry again,” I said to Kate. “Whatever,” she said.
“You’re very attractive,” I added. She rolled her eyes, but fondly, I thought. “I have a friend you might like—”
“Move it, people!” Winnie barked. The other side of the ta- ble shuffled a few steps down, some people skipping others (like Grandpop and me).

Grandpop was now seated across from Cynthia.
“For God’s sake, Winnie,” Cynthia said, twisting her neck around to glare. “He’s my uncle.”
“Yeah, I vaguely recognize him,” said Winnie. “Just practice flirting and exchanging information. Harlow, you do the same.” “Well, now, you’re a very pretty girl!” Grandpop said to Cyn-
thia. “You look just like my goddaughter!” He laughed merrily.
A man sat across from me. Pete the Poet. Not my night. “Hello again,” I said.
“I wrote a poem about you,” he said, his face tight as he took out a folded piece of paper.
“I’m excited,” I said. “Bring it.”
“‘There once was a woman named Harlow, who met me for lunch but left solo.’” Another glare. “‘She looked in my eye, I felt myself die, but Harlow, she was a liar and wasn’t even interested.’” “Kind of lost the beat there,” I said. “Maybe ‘but Harlow
didn’t budge from her no-go?’”
He didn’t respond, just folded his arms and literally stuck out his bottom lip.
Down the table, a woman took a picture of Robbie and giggled.
“What are the qualities you’re looking for in a partner?” Cyn- thia asked Grandpop, which, to her credit, was a great question. “Well, Cynthia, I’m glad you asked,” said Grandpop. “I’d
like someone who enjoys short walks, because my knees aren’t what they used to be. Someone who can cook and clean and isn’t averse to changing adult diapers.”
I laughed out loud. “Maybe save that last bit for the second date, Pop,” I said, grinning at Cynthia. She didn’t smile back.
“Next!” Winnie yelled.
A gorgeous, dark-haired woman around forty slid into the

chair across from Grandpop. “Hello, papi,” she said with a slight Latin accent, grinning.
“Well, aren’t you lovely! Do you like old men?”
“Let’s find out,” she said. Oh, yeah. Grandpop would have a great time with her. Across from me was Grady. “Hey, there,” I said with a smile.
“Hi.” He smiled back, just a little, his green eyes creasing attractively. I could hardly see the skinny boy who’d been my friend all those years ago, because the man in front of me was . . . well, manly. Tall. Wicked nice shoulders.
“I’ll be your guinea pig,” I said, clearing my throat. “What qualities are you looking for in a partner, Gray?”
He gave a nod, eyes down, a little smile. “Kindness would be the first. Intelligence. Someone who loves kids, as I have a four- year-old daughter.”
“Well, that rules me out,” I said. “I’m terrified of children.” “No, you’re not,” he said.
“I’m terrified of most children,” I corrected. “Your child is quite nice. Anyway, what are your hobbies, kind sir?”
“I like trivia nights,” he said, smiling again.
“Have you heard of the Kingslayers?” I asked. Our team. “Their reputation is terrifying,” he answered. “Also, I love
being on the water and love swimming, being out in my boat, snorkeling and scuba diving.”
“Imagine if you didn’t. It would make your job much harder.”
Another appealing smile. “I also love doing things with my daughter.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Reading to her. Going to Story Time with Grandpop.” “Fabulous answer.”
“Taking her on hikes, doing art projects. She loves to be

pushed on the swing. We go to the beach every day, and she picks up shells and rocks, and we put them in a big glass bowl on the coffee table.”
Is that what it would’ve been like if I’d kept Matthew? All those wholesome activities the Cape offered? My eyes were sud- denly stinging. Again.
“Next!”
“See you, Gray,” I said, swallowing.
The next guy in front of me was Reverend White. “Pass,” I said. “No offense, Reverend.”
“None taken. I’ve always wondered why you’ve never been married, Harlow,” he said, leaning back in his chair and accepting a stuffed clam from one of the servers. “You’re such a wonderful person.”
“And how do you know that, Reverend? I could be a shrivel- hearted miser.”
“Oh, please,” he said. “You’re here with your grandfather. That’s all the proof I need. Besides, you should be presenting your best qualities, not turning away compliments.”
“Point taken. Thank you for the compliment, Reverend White.” “You are. You’re smart, pretty and nice to people, which is a
lovely quality.”
“Thank you. And you’re . . . um, a very good ego booster.” He looked pleased. “I hear you have a bastard son in town.” I jerked. “Okay, first, don’t ever call him a bastard again.” “I know, I know. It’s my age. We used terms like that back
then.”
“Still not acceptable.”
“But you do, right?” the not-so-good reverend asked. “Have a son?”

I looked away. “Yes.”
“Shocking, that you kept him a secret all these years.” “None of your business, Reverend.”
“Well, Harlow, people have been talking. It’s rather monu- mental news. How are you handling it?”
“Next!” Winnie bellowed. The reverend mercifully switched seats. If he knew, he’d have told everyone he came across. Such a gossip, that guy.
Robbie plunked down in front of me, and a fifty-something woman sat across from Grandpop.
“You are so my type,” Robbie said. “I feel like I already love you.”
“Shut up,” I said, laughing.
“Hello!” Grandpop said, he of the indefatigable energy. “I’m Robert J. Smith, Esquire. And you are, my dear?”
“I’m Lisa B. Townsend, MD,” she said, smiling.
Grandpop practically gasped at his good luck. “Can you tell me why my left calf muscle cramps every night at nine forty-five? Wakes me out of a sound sleep.”
“Pop, you definitely have game,” Robbie said.
The doctor laughed. “Lots of people get those, especially as we get older.”
“Should I hire a masseuse? I know there’s a little place in Orleans, but the windows are papered over with palm tree post- ers, and I can’t see inside.”
“Those massage therapists are actually sex workers, Grand- pop,” Robbie said.
“How do you know?” I asked. “No comment.”
“Massage can help, but make sure you get a certified massage

therapist,” said Dr. Lisa. “Make sure you’re eating a lot of fruits and veggies. You can also have a gin and tonic every night. Qui- nine, which is in tonic water, can help a lot.”
“Oh, I like that suggestion very much!” Grandpop said. “Now.
Do you think you’d like to date me?”
“I’m looking for someone a little closer to my age, but if I were thirty years older, definitely,” she said.
“What about this mole on my neck?” Grandpop asked, pull- ing his collar down. “It has hair growing out of it!”
“Next!” called Winnie.
An hour later, we were done. Grandpop had four numbers, three from age-appropriate women, one from the woman who’d called him papi. Robbie had sixteen from males and females alike, Lark had five, and I had none, as per my wishes. I won- dered how many Grady had . . . he was talking with someone I’d never met before. Good for him.
Turning toward my car, I saw Destiny and waved her over. Just as she reached me, Kate the tattooed bartender walked by us, heading to her own car.
“Hey, Kate,” I said, “it was nice meeting you. Um, did you get a chance to meet Destiny here?” They both stopped, looked at each other and then at me. “Destiny, this is Kate, a bartender with a great sense of humor. Kate, meet Destiny, a brilliant for- mer school librarian who works at a charming bookstore.”
“Love your name,” Kate said.
“Thanks. I picked it myself.” She paused, not too subtly look- ing Kate over. “I’m sorry we didn’t meet. I must’ve missed you when I took a phone call from my sister.”
They eyed each other more.
“I’ll let you ladies chat,” I said, backing away. I couldn’t help smiling. Look at me, being an awesome matchmaker.

Just then, my phone chimed. It was from Matthew!

sorry we have to wait for my mom to lecture me before we can meet up again. hope we can see each other soon.

“No capitalization?” I said through a glaze of happy tears.
I’m great, I typed. Hope you’re enjoying the Cape so far. I sent the message, then I thought about what to say next. I love you? I miss you? I haven’t stopped thinking of you? Please remind your mother that I’m a good person?

I’m really looking forward to seeing you again, too. Sleep tight!

I deleted “Sleep tight!” and just used a smiley face, then hit the arrow. He sent back a thumbs-up.
My son was thinking of me. He hoped to see me soon.

Excerpt. ©Kristan Higgins. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.

Giveaway: 1 Finished copy of A LITTLE RAY OF SUNSHINE by Kristan Higgins to US only

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and post a comment to this Q: What did you think of the excerpt spotlighted here? Leave a comment with your thoughts on the book…

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 

Book Summary

A kid walks into your bookstore and… Guess what? He’s your son. The one you put up for adoption eighteen years ago. The one you never told anyone about. Surprise!

And a huge surprise it is.

It’s a huge surprise to his adoptive mother, Monica, who thought she had a close relationship with Matthew, her nearly adult son. But apparently, he felt the need to secretly arrange a vacation to Cape Cod for the summer so he could meet his birth mother…without a word to either her or his dad.

It’s also a surprise— to say the least—to Harlow, the woman who secretly placed her baby for adoption so many years ago. She’s spent the years since then building a quiet life. She runs a bookstore with her grandfather, hangs out with her four younger siblings and is more or less happily single, though she can’t help gravitating toward Grady Byrne, her old friend from high school. He’s moved back to town, three-year-old daughter in tow, no wife in the picture. But she’s always figured her life had to be child-free, so that complicates things.

When Matthew walks into Harlow’s store, she faints. Monica panics. And all their assumptions—about what being a parent really means—explode. This summer will be full of more surprises as both their families are redefined…and as both women learn that for them, there’s no limit to a mother’s love.

Buy: Amazon | Bookshop |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Kristan Higgins is the New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of more than twenty novels, which have been translated into more than two dozen languages and have sold millions of copies worldwide. The happy mother of two snarky and well-adjusted adults lives in Connecticut with her heroic firefighter husband, cuddly dog, and indifferent cat. http://www.twitter.com/Kristan_Higgins