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The unbreakable bonds of family and love are explored in this brilliant and tender story from the author of Guy’s Girl.

OCD, intrusive thoughts, death of sibling in childhood (off-page).

On the day she arrives in Canada for her older brother’s wedding, Eliot Beck hasn’t seen her family in three years. Eliot adores her big, wacky, dysfunctional collection of siblings and in-laws, but there’s a reason she fled to Manhattan and buried herself in her work—and she’s not ready to share it with anyone. Not when speaking it aloud could send her back into the never-ending cycle of the obsessive-compulsive disorder that consumed her for years.

Eliot thinks she’s prepared to survive the four-day-long wedding extravaganza—until she sees her best friend, Manuel, waiting for her at the marina and looking as handsome as ever. He was the person who, when they met as children, felt like finding the missing half of her soul. The person she tried so hard not to fall in love with… but did anyway.

Manuel’s presence at the wedding threatens to undo the walls Eliot has built around herself. The fortress that keeps her okay. If she isn’t careful, by the end of this wedding, the whole castle might come crumbling down.

Don't just take our word for it...

“An honest, unflinching, and at times, heartbreaking exploration of how the walls we build to protect ourselves can block out the love we need to thrive. Noyes’s prose crackles with feeling and fervent, relatable yearning. Readers will revel in the triumph of this beautifully affirming story of self-acceptance, as they race toward the hope-filled happily ever after.”
– Rebekah Faubion, author of The Lovers

“How to Hide in Plain Sight is a raw and emotionally profound read. Eliot’s strength is inspiring, and the smart and lyrical writing makes this book difficult to put down. Combining themes of family trauma, grief, and self-acceptance, this story is a tear-jerker in the best way possible.”
– Raquel Vasquez Gilliland, USA Today bestselling author

Taste the very first page

Here’s what you need to understand about my family: all of our money came from drugs.

Nothing illegal, of course. Not crack or quaaludes or even marijuana. All government sanctioned. The good stuff, you know? Prozac. Insulin. Cialis. (That’s a PDE-5 inhibitor, a drug that helps men get it up—the alternative to Viagra. I know. The assholes at Pfizer ruined any chance we had at brand recognition. There’s only so much brain space Americans are willing to commit to boner medication.)

Another thing you need to understand about my family: it’s big. I couldn’t tell you the number of times I’ve said those words. At parties, on the job. Tell me about yourself, says someone I’ve just met. Well, I grew up in a big family. It’s a great opening line. People trust me right away, which makes no sense. As if being born into a big family says something about your character. As if there’s a re- productive threshold above which none of your children become psychopaths or serial killers. As if Jeffrey Dahmer would have turned out okay if only he’d had a couple more brothers and sisters hanging around.

I was a happy kid. How could I not be? I was raised the way all parents dream of raising their children: in a big house in the suburbs of Chicago, right on the shore of Lake Michigan. Our town was just large enough for me to run free on the weekend, but just small enough to come home with nothing worse than a skinned…

September 2024