QUICK FACTS
- Title: When Tomorrow Came: A Novel
- Author: Hannah Linder
- Genre: Historical Romance, Historical Suspense, Regency Romance, Inspirational Fiction
- Publisher: Barbour Books (April 1, 2023)
- Length: (320) pages
- Format: Trade Paperback, eBook, & audiobook
- ISBN: 978-1636094403
- Tour Dates: March 27 – April 10, 2023
They Waited Their Whole Lives for Their Papa to Return
Nan and Heath Duncan, siblings abandoned by their papa and abused by their guardian, have no choice but to survive on the London streets. When a kind gentleman rescues Nan from such a life, the siblings are separated and raised in two vastly different social worlds. Just when both are beginning to flourish and years have healed some of their wounds, their long-awaited papa returns and reunites them–bringing demands with him. Nan is expected to marry a rich suitor she’s never liked, and Heath is expected to forsake his gentle spirit and become the hardened man his father always was.
Dangers unfold, secret love develops, fights ensue, and murder upsets the worlds Heath and Nan have built for themselves. They’ve waited their whole lives for their papa to return, for tomorrow to come–but now that it has, will they be able to see through to the truth and end this whirlwind of a nightmare before it costs one of their lives?
PRAISE FOR WHEN TOMORROW CAME
- “The plot is full of intrigue, and it’s anchored by complicated characters whose secrets are slowly, carefully revealed. Readers will be hooked.”— Publisher’s Weekly
- “Filled with intrigue, heartache, love, and a cast of beloved characters…this unique story had me crying and cheering. I can’t wait to read her next book!”— Kimberley Woodhouse, bestselling author of the award-winning Secrets of the Canyon series
- When Tomorrow Came captured my heart from the very beginning…All the characters were so endearing and the story line with mystery and suspense kept me up way too late.”— Dana Michael, Goodreads
EXCERPT
“Miss Duncan, please.” A hand circled her arm, tightened, started to tug. “Step aside and let the servants handle him.”
Handle him. As if Gilbert Stanhope were nothing more than a trinket to be moved to another shelf or a tapestry to be hung on a different wall or a—
“Nan.” The use of her forename jolted her, struck through some of the panic long enough to make her rise.
Lord Humphries drew her back. “Take him to one of the guest chambers on the east wing, men. Careful you do not jostle him.”
Jostle him. Her chest hammered. No, please do not jostle him.
Even when the manservants circled him, lifted him, he didn’t stir. His head dangled. Eyes remained shut. How long had they been like that?
“Let me go.” She pulled against the hold on her.
The servants passed through the doorway, disappeared.
“My lord, let me go—”
“Miss Duncan, do not take on hysterics.” Her ladyship, for the first time, finally
pushed from her chair. “You are forgetting yourself entirely. Sit down and calm down, if you please.”
“But I want to—”
“Nan, Mother is right.” Lord Humphries caught her shoulders, trapping her. “We have already sent for the apothecary, and there is very little you can do.”
“I want to be with him.”
“But it would only further upset you, my darling—”
“The only thing further upsetting me is your hands. Now will you please let me go?”
At the words, her ladyship inhaled a lungful of air, and Lord Humphries reddened by three shades. With an awkward apology, he walked away from her. “Of course, Miss Duncan. Forgive me. I was only attempting to calm you.”
With gathering tears, she fled through the same doorway the servants had exited. Big, empty, glittering halls. How thudding and severe fell her footfalls on marble so pristine. God, what is wrong?
She mounted mahogany stairs when a maid pointed her in the right direction. Up, up, up—but it took much longer than it ever should have.
Please, God.
She halted in a carpeted hall, approached the only door swung wide open. Three servants slipped out, no expression, finished with one duty and off to the next.
Then Nan entered.
He lay still upon a four-poster bed, an elderly maid already hovering close—but at the sight of Nan, she retreated to a corner chair and said nothing.
“Gil?”
His eyes adjusted on her, hazy, uncertain.
She pressed close to the bed and grasped his hand. “Gil, you are awake?”
“Yes.” Strange, how his voice could sound so normal when his face appearedso wan. “Yes, awake.”
“What is wrong?”
“Don’t. . .know.”
“Is there pain?”
“Burning.”
“Where?”
“Mouth. . .throat. Everything so . . . blurry and . . . and . . .”
“And what?”
Stared at her, stared hard.
“Gil?”
First, it was just a twitch, a faint jerk of his chest. Then his arms began to shake,his legs, everywhere.
“Gil!” Her scream summoned the maid to her side. They seized his arms.“Gil, please.”
Convulsing, half breathing, teeth jarring in a deathlike rhythm of pain. Just
as quickly, though, the writhing ceased. He lay limp as before. Didn’t move, hardly breathed.
Just looked at her.
“In the name of mercy, what is the matter with him?” She lifted his hand to
her chest, squeezed with the same devilish fear as when Heath would not wake up. “What is the matter?”
She hadn’t expected an answer, but a voice from close by whispered anyway. “I ’ave not seen this in a long time, miss.” The old maid reached out and mopped sweat from Gilbert’s brow. “An’ I had ’oped not to see it again.”
“What? Tell me, please. Why is he so ill?”
“Not ill, miss.” A disheartened sigh. “Poisoned.”
Chapter 15, pages 155-156
From When Tomorrow Came © 2023, Hannah Linder, published by Barbour Publishing, Inc.
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Hannah Linder resides in the beautiful mountains of central West Virginia. Represented by Books & Such, she writes Regency romantic suspense novels. She is a double 2021 Selah Award winner, a 2022 Selah Award finalist, and a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). Hannah is a Graphic Design associate degree graduate who specializes in professional book cover design. She designs for both traditional publishing houses and individual authors, including New York Times, USA Today, and international bestsellers. She is also a local photographer and a self-portrait photographer. When Hannah is not writing, she enjoys playing her instruments–piano, guitar, and ukulele–songwriting, painting still life, walking in the rain, and sitting on the front porch of her 1800s farmhouse.
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