FORKING AROUND (Hot Cakes Book #2) by Erin Nicholas is a heartfelt contemporary Cinderella romance and the second book in this scrumptious series. I will never be able to look at a strawberry pie again without thinking of Jane and Dax.
Jane survives her life day by day. She has a terminally ill father in a nursing home and a wicked stepmother who continually pits her daughter against Jane’s younger sister. As she struggles to keep the peace between her relatives, she also is the go-to person at work who is willing to take on problems to help her coworkers out. She does not have time for her fun loving and charming new boss.
Dax lives to prove that you can be successful even as you are having a good time. With his yellow office, beanbag chairs and jars of gummy bears, he works at making ideas come true. He has never met a problem he cannot use his charm and his money to solve while also making everyone happy.
Jane does not believe in happily ever after and she does not believe Dax will stay. Dax wants to make Jane happy, but he needs to quit forking around and prove to her that he is in her life for all the good and the bad happily ever after.
This is such a fun story! Dax is wonderful with his attitude of fun and it is always used to make someone else happy. With his love of all things Frank Sinatra and gummy bears, you cannot help but fall for him. Jane so deserved to have someone like Dax walk into her life and it is the sweetest of Cinderella stories with plenty of strawberry bakery goods thrown in. The dialogue is witty and full of double entendre. The sex scenes are fun and hot, but not gratuitous. This book can be read as a standalone, but you are going to want to read how all the friends from FLUKE, Inc. fall.
I recommend this new addition to the Hot Cakes series and cannot wait for the next!
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About Erin
Nicholas
New
York Times and USA
Today bestselling author Erin Nicholas has been writing romances almost as
long as she’s been reading them. To date, she’s written over thirty sexy,
contemporary novels that have been described as “toe-curling,” “enchanting,”
“steamy,” and “fun.” She adores reluctant heroes, imperfect heroines, and
happily ever afters.
Erin lives in the Midwest, where she enjoys spending time with her
husband (who only wants to read the sex scenes in her books), her kids (who
will never read the sex scenes in her books), and her family and friends (who
claim to be “shocked” by the sex scenes in her books).
Today I am very excited to be included on this Release Blitz for Freya Barker’s second book in the PASS series. This is My Feature Post and Book Review for LIFE & LIMB (PASS Book #2) by Freya Barker.
Below you will find a book description, my book review and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Growing up a military brat and spending eight years overseas with the Army Medical Corps, clinical social worker, Willa Smith, has had enough of rules and regulations. Still able to work with veterans as she did at the VA Hospital, she is much happier at the new and far more relaxed South Avenue Shelter, until one of its residents is implicated in a murder.
Former military turned security operative, Dimas Mazur, has worked for PASS security, his brother’s company, since he returned stateside after a disabling injury. The job keeps him busy, but when a homeless veteran he knows runs into trouble with the law, he doesn’t hesitate to jump in. The strong-headed counselor at the shelter where his friend stayed is an unexpected bonus.
Until she puts herself square in the sights of the man he’s trying to take down.
LIFE & LIMB (PASS Book #2) by Freya Barker is a romantic suspense that has the perfect balance of wonderfully realistic mature characters and a suspense plot line that keeps you turning the pages. Freya Barker’s romantic suspense books never disappoint.
Willa Smith is a clinical social worker who dedicated eight years of her life in the Army Medical Corps in Germany, came home and worked five more years in the local VA hospital working with veterans before getting her current job in the new South Avenue Shelter. Willa grew up an Army brat in a home with very strict, traditional role models that she refuses to follow and prefers her single life.
Dimas “Dimi” Mazur spent two tours in Iraq in the Special forces until he lost part of his leg to an IED. Now, he works for his brother’s company, PASS security. While home between jobs, Dimas gets an urgent call from a veteran brother who lives at the South Avenue Shelter that he is accused of a murder of a fellow shelter resident. With the help of the outspoken, feisty counselor at the shelter Dimi works to exonerate his friend.
As Dimi and Willa grow closer as a couple and work to find the true killer, Willa places herself directly in the crosshairs of the man they are trying to find.
I always love getting my hands on a new Freya Barker romantic suspense. Willa and Dimi and all the characters from the first book who make a return appearance are friends you want to continue to revisit continually. Willa and Dimi are mature with realistic emotions and lives. I enjoy Ms. Barker’s emphasis on older H/h’s that are never perfect, but do not play immature, emotional games. The romantic conflict is solved with communication, understanding and love. The suspense plot is fast paced, believable and intertwined with the romance perfectly. The sex scenes are explicit, but never gratuitous. Even though this is the second book in this series, it can easily be read as a standalone.
I highly recommend this new romantic suspense and all of Ms. Barker’s books for wonderful characters and exciting suspense!
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About Freya
USA Today bestselling author Freya Barker loves writing about ordinary people with extraordinary stories.
Driven to make her books about ‘real’ people; she creates characters who are perhaps less than perfect, each struggling to find their own slice of happy, but just as deserving of romance, thrills and chills in their lives.
Recipient of the ReadFREE.ly 2019 Best Book We’ve Read All Year Award for “Covering Ollie, the 2015 RomCon “Reader’s Choice” Award for Best First Book, “Slim To None”, and Finalist for the 2017 Kindle Book Award with “From Dust”, Freya continues to add to her rapidly growing collection of published novels as she spins story after story with an endless supply of bruised and dented characters, vying for attention!
Today I am excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Blog Tour for Salt+ Stilettos (South Beach Romance Book #1) by Janet Walden-West.
Below you will find a book blurb, my book review, an about the author section with social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Good luck on the giveaway and enjoy!
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Book Blurb
Sweet Home Alabama meets Top Chef when Miami’s most determined image consultant clashes with Samoa’s most uncooperative chef in a race to rebrand him as South Beach’s newest star.
Brett Fontaine learned early that appearance matters and not to count on anyone but yourself. Trading her red-dirt roots for the title of Miami’s go-to image consultant, she refuses to let anything jeopardize her new life.
Not an influential client-turned-stalker who’s up for parole.
Not post-kidnapping panic attacks.
Certainly not the stubborn, attention-phobic chef she’s challenged to transform into a celeb in ninety days.
Will Te’o can almost taste the dream he sacrificed American Samoa, culture, and cherished family ties for—opening a four star restaurant in the most cut-throat culinary location in North America.
Unfortunately, that requires navigating it’s equally cut-throat social scene. When his first public performance ends in a social media spectacle, his only option is turning to the stiletto-wearing nemesis who’s invaded his kitchen.
Neither expected to share anything but barbs, yet somewhere between accidentally bonding over comfort food and office-wrecking sex, they’re named South Beach’s hottest pairing. Until Brett’s stalker engineers a reputation-shattering reveal. She may be going down, but she’s not taking Will’s dreams with her. Now Will’s pulling out all his new skills and cooking up a last-ditch event. He’ll prove to Brett that relying on the right person makes for the perfect recipe—or be left heartbroken in the spotlight.
Ebook and paperback: April 21st from City Owl Press
SALT + STILETTOS (South Beach Romance Book #1) by Janet Walden-West is a new contemporary romance by a new to me author with plenty of food, fashion and love.
Will Te’o is about to realize his dream. He worked his way up from his home in American Samoa to the top of the culinary scene in South Beach. With his partner, he is about to open his first restaurant but as talented as Will is in the kitchen, he has no understanding of the social scene and celebrity status he must now achieve for his and his restaurant’s success.
Brett Fontaine worked hard to raise herself up from dirt poor and hungry to the top image consultant in South Beach. Brett knows image and clothes matter. Her best friend has hired her to take on his partner, Will and get him ready in just 45 days for their restaurant’s grand opening.
Brett and Will butt heads, but slowly they learn to trust each other and the chemistry builds to a flash point. When Brett’s stalker engineers a reputation shattering reveal, Will is determined to prove that Brett can always rely on him. Can Will prove to Brett that he will always be there for her?
I fell in love with Will and Brett. Both are such contradictions and you would think opposites, but under the shell of each is someone so ready for love. Will is six feet eight of talented chef, traditional Samoan, and chief support of his extended family back home. He was so loving and that his character started out so insecure and hurt it broke me up. I was so glad that Brett was able to understand him and build him up rather than hurt him more. Will was so full of love and Brett needed it. Brett had to deal with both her terrible childhood and a stalker which left her traumatized and yet she was still willing to let Will in. When these two finally came together the sex scenes were smokin’ hot. The romance progressed at a realistic pace and the sex scenes were never gratuitous. All the secondary characters were interesting and fully fleshed.
I can highly recommend this contemporary romance and am looking forward to many more books in this series!
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About the Author
Janet Walden-West lives in the southeast with a pack of show dogs, a couple of kids, and a husband who didn’t read the fine print. A member of the East Tennessee Creative Writers Alliance, she is also a founding member of The Million Words craft blog. She pens diverse Urban Fantasy and inclusive Romantic Suspense and Contemporary Romance.
A 2X PitchWars alum, 2019 Pitch Wars Mentor, and Golden Heart® finalist, her debut multicultural Contemporary Romance, SALT+STILETTOS, is due out April 21st 2020 from City Owl Press. She is represented by Eva Scalzo of Speilburg Literary Agency.
Today I am excited to once again be featuring a book on the Harlequin Trade Publishing Spring 2020 Blog Tour. I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for Viola Shipman’s new book – THE HEIRLOOM GARDEN.
Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. This will definitely be one of my favorite books this year. Enjoy!
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Book Summary
In this heartwarming and feel-good novel filled with echoes of Dorothea Benton Frank, Debbie Macomber and Elizabeth Berg, two women separated by a generation but equally scarred by war find hope, meaning – and each other – through a garden of heirloom flowers.
Iris Maynard lost her husband in World War II, her daughter to loneliness and, finally, her reason to live. Walled off from the world for decades behind a towering fence surrounding her home and gardens, the former botanist has built a new family…of flowers. Iris propagates her own daylilies and roses while tending to an heirloom garden filled with starts – and memories – of her own mother, grandmother, husband and daughter.
When Abby Peterson moves to Grand Haven, Michigan, with her family – a husband traumatized during his service in the Iraq War and a young daughter searching for stability – they find themselves next door to Iris, and are slowly drawn into her reclusive neighbour’s life where, united by loss and a love of flowers, Iris and Abby slowly unearth their secrets to each other. Eventually, the two teach one another that the earth grounds us all, gardens are a grand healer, and as flowers bloom so do our hopes and dreams.
THE HEIRLOOM GARDEN: A NOVEL by Viola Shipman is a Women’s fiction novel that is one of the most beautifully written and emotional books that I have had the pleasure to read. This book and characters will be in my mind for a long time to come and it will definitely be one of my favorites this year!
Iris Maynard lives for her beautiful heirloom garden hidden behind a towering fence that keeps everyone out. Having lost her husband in WWII and her daughter to illness, Iris continues on with her heirloom flowers who have always been there for her. She is a talented botanist who shared her gift with the world, until that world turned on her.
Abby Peterson finds the perfect home to rent to be close to her new job. She is hoping this fresh start will be the change her struggling family needs. Traumatized by his service in Iraq, Abby’s husband, Cory is not the man she married and her small daughter is paying the price. She is curious about the high fence separating her property from the house next door and her reclusive landlady.
Iris is drawn to the family next door. Lily, Abby’s daughter is intrigued by the beautiful flowers next door behind the fence and begins to pull Iris into their lives. Iris and Abby realize how much they have in common and slowly each reveals their secrets as they work together in the garden. Iris and Abby both have a lot of life yet to live.
This book follows the growing season in Iris’ garden as the timeline of the story. I have to admit that I have a black thumb and could kill a silk plant in my home and yet this book with all its flower and garden facts and allegories pulled me in and I could not put it down. I had watery eyes more times than I care to admit and the tissue box was by my side and yet it is more about the power of family, love and resilience even through the sadness and tragedy than just being a sad book. The author brings not only the characters to vivid life, but also all the beautiful heirloom flowers.
I HIGHLY recommend this beautiful book! I have already downloaded more books by this author and will be looking for every single one in the future.
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Excerpt
PROLOGUE
Iris
LATE SUMMER 1944
We are an army, too.
I stop, lean against my hoe and watch the other women working the earth. We are all dressed in the same outfits—overalls and sunhats—all in uniforms just like our husbands and sons overseas.
Fighting for the same cause, just in different ways.
A soft summer breeze wafts down Lake Avenue in Grand Haven, Michigan, gently rustling rows of tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, beets and peas. I analyze my tiny plot of earth at the end of my boots in our neighborhood’s little Victory Garden, admiring the simple beauty of the red arteries running through the Swiss chard’s bright green leaves and the kale-like leaves sprouting from the bulbs of kohlrabi. I smile with satisfaction at their bounty and my own ingenuity. I had suggested our little Victory Garden utilize these vegetables, since they are easy-to-grow staples.
“Easier to grow without weeds.”
I look up, and Betty Wiggins is standing before me.
If you put a gray wig on Winston Churchill, I think, you’d have Betty Wiggins, the self-appointed commander of our Victory Garden.
“Just thinking,” I say.
“You can do that at home,” she says with a frown.
I pick up my hoe and dig at a weed. “Yes, Betty.”
She stares at me, before eyeing the front of my overalls. “Nice rose,” Betty says, her frown drooping even farther. “Do we think we’re Vivien Leigh today?”
“No, ma’am,” I say. “Just wanted to lift my spirits.”
“Lift them at home,” she says, a glower on her face. Her eyes stop on the hyacinth brooch I have pinned on my overalls and then move ever so slowly to the Bakelite daisy earrings on my earlobes.
I look at Betty, hoping she might understand I need to be enveloped by things that make me feel safe, happy and warm, but she walks away with a “Hrumph!”
I hear stifled laughter. I look over to see my friend Shirley mimicking Betty’s ample behind and lumbering gait. The women around her titter.
“Do we think we’re Vivien Leigh today?” Shirley mimics in Betty’s baritone. “She wishes.”
“Stop it,” I say.
“It’s true, Iris,” Shirley continues in a Shakespearian whisper. “The back ends of the horses in Gone with the Wind are prettier than Betty.”
“She’s right,” I say. “I’m not paying enough attention today.”
I suddenly grab the rose I had plucked from my garden this morning and tucked into the front pocket of my overalls, and I toss it into the air. Shirley leaps, stomping a tomato plant in front of her, and grabs the rose midair.
“Stop it,” she says. “Don’t you listen to her.”
She sniffs the rose before tucking the peach-colored petals into my pocket again.
“Nice catch,” I say.
“Remember?” Shirley asks with a wink.
The sunlight glints through leaves and limbs of the thick oaks and pretty sugar maples that line the small plot that once served as our cottage association’s baseball diamond in our beachfront park. I am standing roughly where third base used to be, the place I first locked eyes with my husband, Jonathan. He had caught a towering pop fly right in front of the makeshift bleachers and tossed it to me after making the catch.
“Wasn’t the sunlight that blinded me,” he had said with a wink. “It was your beauty.”
I thought he was full of beans, but Shirley gave him my number. I was home from college at Michigan State for the summer, he was still in high school, and the last thing I needed was a boyfriend, much less one younger than I was. But I can still remember his face in the sunlight, his perfect skin and a light fuzz on his cheeks that were the color of a summer peach.
In the light, soft white floaties dance in the air like miniature clouds. I follow their flight. My daughter, Mary, is holding a handful of dandelions and blowing their seeds into the air.
For one brief moment, my mind is as clear as the sky. There is no war, only summer, and a little girl playing.
“You know more about plants than anybody here,” Shirley continues, knocking me from my thoughts. “You should be in charge here, not Betty. You’re the one that had us grow all these strange plants.”
“Flowers,” I say. “Not plants. My specialty is really flowers.”
“Oh, don’t be such a fuddy-duddy, Iris,” Shirley says. “You’re the only woman I know who went to college. You should be using that flower degree.”
“It’s botany. Actually, plant biology with a specialty in botanical gardens and nurseries,” I say. I stop, feeling guilty. “I need to be at home,” I say, changing course. “I need to be here.”
Shirley stops hoeing and looks at me, her eyes blazing. She
glances around to ensure the coast is clear and then whispers, “Snap your cap, Iris. I know you think that’s what you should be saying and doing, but we all know better.” She stares at me for a long time. “The war will be over soon. These war gardens will go away, too. What are you going to do with the rest of your life? Use your brain. That’s why God gave it to you.” She grins. “I mean, your own garden looks like a lab experiment.” She stops and laughs. “You’re not only wearing one of your own flowers, you’re even named after one! It’s in your genes.”
I smile. Shirley is right. I have been obsessed with flowers for as long as I can remember. My Grandma Myrtle was a gifted gardener as was my mom, Violet. I had wanted to name my own daughter after a flower to keep that legacy, but that seemed downright crazy to most folks. We lived next door to Grandma in cottages with adjoining gardens for years, houses my grandfather and father worked themselves to an early grave to pay off, and now they were all gone, and I rented my grandma’s house to a family whose son was in the coast guard.
But my garden was now filled with their legacy. Nearly every perennial I possessed originally began in my mom and grandma’s gardens. My grandma taught me to garden on her little piece of heaven in Highland Park overlooking Lake Michigan. And much of my childhood was spent with my mom and grandma in their cottage gardens, the daylilies and bee balm towering over my head. When it got too hot, I would lie on the cool ground in the middle of my grandma’s woodland hydrangeas, my back pressed against her old black mutt, Midnight, and we’d listen to the bees and hummingbirds buzzing overhead. My grandma would grab my leg when I was fast asleep and pretend that I was a weed she was plucking. “That’s why you have to weed,” she’d say with a laugh, tugging on my ankle as I giggled. “They’ll pop up anywhere.”
My mom and I would walk her gardens, and she’d always say the same thing as she watered and weeded, deadheaded and cut
flowers for arrangements. “The world is filled with too much ugliness—death, war, poverty, people just being plain mean to one another. But these flowers remind us there’s beauty all around us, if we just slow down to nurture and appreciate it.”
Grandma Myrtle would take her pruners and point around her gardens. “Just look around, Iris. The daisies remind you to be happy. The hydrangeas inspire us to be colorful. The lilacs urge us to breathe deeply. The pansies reflect our own images back at us. The hollyhocks show us how to stand tall in this world. And the roses—oh, the roses!—they prove that beauty is always present even amongst the thorns.”
The perfumed scent of the rose in my pocket lingers in front of my nose, and I pluck it free and raise it to my eyes.
My beautiful Jonathan rose.
I’d been unable to sleep the past few years or so, and—to keep my mind occupied—I’d been hybridizing roses and daylilies, cross-pollinating different varieties, experimenting to get new colors or lusher foliage. I had read about a peace rose that was to be introduced in America—a rose to celebrate the Nazis leaving France, which was just occurring—and I sought to re-create my own version to celebrate my husband’s return home. It was a beautiful mix of white, pink, yellow and red roses, which had resulted in a perfect peach.
I remember Jon again, as a young man, before war, and I try to refocus my mind on the little patch of Victory Garden before me, willing myself not to cry. My mind wanders yet again to my own.
My home garden is marked by stakes of my experiments, flags denoting what flowers I have mixed with others. And Shirley says my dining room looks like the hosiery aisle at Woolworths. Since the war, no one throws anything away, so I use my old nylons to capture my flowers’ seeds. I tie them around my daylily stalks and after they bloom, I break off the stem, capture and count the seeds, which I plant in my little greenhouse. I track how many grow. If I’m pleased with a result, I continue. If I’m not, I give them away to my neighbors.
I fill my Big Chief tablets like a banker fills his ledger:
1943-Yellow Crosses
Little Bo Beep = June Bug x Beautiful Morning
(12 seeds/5 planted)
Purple Plum = Magnifique x Moon over Zanadu
(8 seeds/4 planted)
I shut my eyes and can see my daylilies and roses in bloom. Shirley once asked me how I had the patience to wait three years to see how many of my lilies actually bloomed. I looked at her and said, “Hope.”
And it’s true: we have no idea how things are going to turn out. All we can do is hope that something beautiful will spring to life at any time.
I open my eyes and look at Shirley. She is right about the war. She is right about my life. But that life seems like a world away, just like my husband.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
Mary races up, holding her handful of dandelions with white tops.
“What do you have?” I ask.
“Just a bunch of weeds.”
I stop, lean against my hoe and look at my daughter. In the summer sunlight, her eyes are the same violet color as Elizabeth Taylor’s in National Velvet.
“Those aren’t weeds,” I say.
“Yes, they are!” Mary says. She puts her hands on her hips. With her father gone, she has become a different person. She is openly defiant and much too independent for a girl of six. “Teacher said so.”
I lean down until I’m in front of her face. “Technically, yes,
but we can’t just label something that easily.” I take a dandelion from her hand. “What color are these when they bloom?”
“Yellow,” she says.
“And what do you do with them?” I ask.
“I make chains out of them, I put them in my hair, I tuck them behind my ears…” she says, her excitement making her sound out of breath.
“Exactly,” I say. “And what do we do with them now, after they’ve bloomed?”
“Make wishes,” she says. Mary holds up her bouquet of dandelions and blows as hard as she can, sending white floaties into the air.
“What did you wish for?” I ask.
“That Daddy would come home today,” she says.
“Good wish,” I say. “Want to help me garden?”
“I don’t want to get my hands dirty!”
“But you were just on the ground playing with your friends,” I say. “Ring-around-the-rosy.”
Mary puts her hands on her hips.
“Mrs. Roosevelt has a Victory Garden,” I say.
She looks at me and stands even taller, hooking her thumbs behind the straps of her overalls, which are just like mine.
“I don’t want to get dirty,” she says again.
“Don’t you want to do it for your father?” I ask. “He’s at war, keeping us safe. This Victory Garden is helping to feed our neighbors.”
Mary leans toward me, her eyes blazing. “War is dumb.” She stops. “Gardens are dumb.” She stops. I know she wants to say something she will regret, but she is considering her options. Then she glares at me and yells, “Fathead!”
Before I can react, Mary takes off, sprinting across the lot, jumping over plants as if she’s a hurdler. “Mary!” I yell. “Come back here!”
“She’s a handful,” Shirley clucks. “Reminds me of someone.”
“Gee, thanks,” I say.
Mary rejoins her friends, jumping back into the circle to play ring-around-the-rosy, turning around to look at me on occasion, her violet eyes already filled with remorse.
Ring-around-the-rosy,
A pocket full of posies,
Ashes! Ashes!
We all fall down.
“I hate that game,” I say to Shirley. “It’s about the plague.”
I return to hoeing, lost in the dirt, moving in sync with my army of gardeners, when I hear, “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
I look up, and Mary is before me, her chin quivering, lashes wet, fat tears vibrating in the rims of her eyes. “I didn’t mean to call you a fathead. I didn’t mean to get into a rhubarb with you.”
Fathead. Rhubarb. Where is she picking up this language already?
From behind her back, she produces another bouquet of dandelions that have gone to seed.
“I accept your apology,” I say. “Thank you.”
“Make a wish,” she says.
I shut my eyes and blow. As I inhale, the scent of my Jonathan rose fills my senses. The rumble of a car engine shatters the silence. A door slams, followed by another, and I open my eyes. The silhouettes of two men appear on the perimeter of the field, as foreboding as the old oaks. I notice the wind suddenly calm and the plants stop rustling at the exact same moment all of the women stop working. A curious hum begins to build as the men walk with a purpose between the rows of plants. The women lean away from the men as they approach, almost as if the wind had regained momentum. Row by row, each woman drops her hoe and shuts her eyes, mouthing a silent prayer.
Please not me. Please not me.
The footsteps grow closer. I shut my eyes.
Please not me. Please not me.
When I open them, our minister is standing before me, a man beside him, both of their faces solemn.
“Iris,” Rev. Doolan says softly.
“Ma’am,” the other man says, holding out a Western Union telegram.
The world begins to spin. Shirley appears at my side, and she wraps her arms around me.
Mrs. Maynard,
The Secretary of War desires me to express his deepest regrets that your husband, First Lieutenant Jonathan Maynard, has been killed…
“No!” Shirley shouts. “Iris! Somebody help!”
The last thing I see before I fall to the ground are a million white puffs of dandelion floating in the air, the wind carrying them toward heaven.
Viola Shipman is the pen name for Wade Rouse, a popular, award-winning memoirist. Rouse chose his grandmother’s name, Viola Shipman, to honor the woman whose heirlooms and family stories inspire his writing. Rouse is the author of The Summer Cottage, as well as The Charm Bracelet and The Hope Chest which have been translated into more than a dozen languages and become international bestsellers. He lives in Saugatuck, Michigan and Palm Springs, California, and has written for People, Coastal Living, Good Housekeeping, and Taste of Home, along with other publications, and is a contributor to All Things Considered.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for Elizabeth Heiter’s new Harlequin Intrigue – SECRET INVESTIGATION (Tactical Crime Division Book #2).
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section with book purchase links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Welcome to the Tactical Crime Division, a rapid-deployment joint team of FBI agents specializing in hostage negotiation, missing persons, IT, profiling, shootings and terrorism, with Director Jill Pembrook at the head.
In the wake of a tragedy, the Tactical Crime Division is the first call.
When ironclad body armor inexplicably fails and soldiers perish, the Tactical Crime Division jumps into action. Agent and former ranger Davis Rogers asks to go undercover to find the traitor responsible for the death of one of his friends, and Petrov Armor CEO Leila Petrov is happy to provide access to her company…especially once she discovers she’s being framed. But will their joint efforts be enough to uncover the truth?
SECRET INVESTIGATION (Tactical Crime Division Book #2) by Elizabeth Heiter is the second book in a new Harlequin Intrigue multi-author series featuring members of the FBIs Tactical Crime Division. This is a specialized unit of the FBI formed to handle the toughest cases at a moment’s notice anywhere in the country.
FBI agent and former Army ranger Davis Rogers is devastated to learn of the death of a close Army friend when her unit is killed in an ambush when their body armor fails. When Davis learns that his unit will be investigating Petrov Armor, the makers of the defective armor, he wants the assignment. Davis wants everyone responsible to pay to the death of his friend.
Leila Petrov has become the CEO of Petrov Armor after the death of her father. She is shocked when she learns it is her company’s armor worn during the ambush. She is willing to allow Davis unlimited access when he comes into the company undercover, but she also wants to know what he finds and help.
As Davis investigates, even though he blames Leila as the head of her company and responsible for the deaths, he is finding it difficult to not like her and maybe even more. He finds he is losing his objectivity as far as Leila is concerned and he knows he is going to hurt her and the company when the traitor in her company is found.
I loved this addition to the series! The plot is well paced with intricate twists that kept me guessing right up until the end. Davis and Leila are great together. The author shows both as strong and intelligent and as their feelings grow it is at a realistic pace without feeling rushed and it never overshadows the suspense plot. No sex in this book, just a budding romance. The suspense and intrigue are the focus of this story.
The sub-plot with Melinda and Kane added depth to the story and I am looking forward to more from their characters in the future.
I can highly recommend this addition to the Tactical Crime Division series. It is an intense and suspense filled read in a small package.
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Excerpt
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Leila Petrov—When defective bulletproof vests cause the deaths of an army unit, Petrov Armor’s CEO is determined to find the person responsible. But her search makes her a liability to a killer, someone who’s closer than she ever expected.
Davis Rogers—The former army ranger thinks going undercover in Petrov Armor is his chance
to prove himself in the FBI’s elite Tactical Crime Division (TCD). But it’s also deeply personal. One of the soldiers killed was a friend, and Davis won’t stop until he’s gotten justice.
MelindaLarsen—The deeper this profiler digs into the Petrov Armor case, the more unexpected threats she uncovers—putting her directly in the line of fire.
Kane Bradshaw—Ever since his last partner died on the job, the TCD agent prefers to work alone. But as he’s forced to work with Melinda, he fears history will repeat itself.
Eric Ross—Petrov Armor’s head of sales was Leila’s first love. He’s jealous of Leila’s obvious interest in her new “assistant,” Davis, but is there something more sinister behind his constant appearances?
Joel Petrov—Leila’s uncle has been an integral part of the company since Leila was a child. But is his involvement too convenient?
###
As in the Bureau, dying in the field was a possibility you accepted. You did whatever you could to prevent it, but if it happened, you knew you’d be going out doing something you believed in. But not like this. Not the way Jessica had died, trusting the military, trusting her training, trusting her equipment.
“I want to take the lead on this case,” Davis blurted. Gazes darted to him: from profiler Dr. Melinda Larsen, silently assessing, suspicion in her eyes, as if she somehow knew he had a history with one of the victims. Always buttoned-up Laura Smith was quiet and unreadable, but her Ivy League brain was probably processing every nuance of his words. JC, staring at him with understanding, even though he didn’t realize Davis knew Jessica personally. No one on the team did. “Is your personal investment in this case going to be a hindrance or a help?” Pembrook asked, voice and gaze steady.
Davis’s spine stiffened even more. She was talking about his army background. She had to be. But if she thought he was going to fidget, she underestimated the hell he’d gone through training to be a ranger for the army. “A help. I’m familiar with how the army works. And I’m familiar with the product. I’ve worn Petrov Armor vests.”
Petrov Armor had supplied the body armor Jessica and her team had been wearing during the ambush. That armor—supposedly the newest and best technology—had failed spectacularly, resulting in the deaths of all but three of the soldiers and one of the locals. In his mind it wasn’t the insurgents who had killed Jessica and her team. It was Petrov Armor.
He didn’t mention the rest. He’d more than just worn the vests. He’d had a chance to be an early tester of their body armor, back when he was an elite ranger and Petrov Armor was better known for the pistols they made than their armor. He’d given the thumbs-up, raving about the vest’s bullet-stopping power and comfort in his report. He’d given the army an enthusiastic endorsement to start using Petrov Armor’s products more broadly. And they had.
“I’m not talking about the armor,” Pembrook replied, her gaze still laser-locked on his, even as agent-at-large Kane Bradshaw slipped into the meeting late and leaned against the doorway. “I’m talking about Jessica Carpenter.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
The gazes on him seemed to intensify, but Davis didn’t shift his from Pembrook’s. “Thank you. And no, it won’t affect my judgment in the case.”
Pembrook nodded, but he wasn’t sure if she believed him as she looked back at the rest of the group and continued her briefing. “Petrov Armor won a big contract with the military five years ago. The armor this team was wearing is their latest and greatest. It’s not worn widely yet, but their earlier version armor is commonly used. The military is doing a full round of testing across all their branches. They’ve never had a problem with Petrov Armor before, and they don’t intend to have another.
“Meanwhile, they’ve asked us to investigate at home. We got lucky with the news coverage. We’re still not sure how it was leaked, but not all of it got out. Or if it did, the news station only played a small part. And somehow they don’t have the name of the body armor supplier. Not yet,” she said emphatically. “Rowan, we don’t have to worry about PD this time. I’m putting you on the media. Hendrick can lend computer support if you need it.”
Rowan Cooper nodded, looking a little paler than usual, but sitting straighter.
***
About the Author
Publishers Weekly bestselling and award-winning author ELIZABETH HEITER likes her suspense to feature strong heroines, chilling villains, psychological twists and a little romance. Her research has taken her into the minds of serial killers, through murder investigations, and onto the FBI Academy’s shooting range. Her novels have been published in more than a dozen countries and translated into eight languages. Visit her at www.elizabethheiter.com.
Today I am excited to be on the Harlequin Trade Publishing Spring 2020 Blog Tour. I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for Kelly Rimmer’s new book – TRUTHS I NEVER TOLD YOU.
Below you will find an author Q&A, a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Author Q&A
Q: What inspired you to write Truths I Never Told You?
A: The idea behind the story started with a curiosity about post-partum depression. I heard the statistic that one in five women develop the condition after the birth of a child and I was so shocked by it. I thought to myself—given how common this is, why don’t we talk about it?
Q: Which character do you relate to the most in Truths I Never Told You?
A: Most of us feel like victims of our circumstances at some point during our lives, at least for brief periods of time. I’ve certainly felt that way before—but writing a character like Grace, who lived in time where she had very little choice over how her life unfolded, really put that feeling into perspective for me. I loved writing the character of Beth too. To me she is loyal, loving and brave—but also ultimately humble and willing to be vulnerable. Despite that, my favorite character in this book was Maryanne—she’s fierce and determined and so courageous in her pursuit of change and knowledge, and that extends to a willingness to learn harsh lessons from life itself. Although Maryanne makes some heartbreaking decisions along the way, she always remains true to her values. A groundbreaking feminist like Maryanne represents something of a bridge between Grace’s powerlessness and the easier access Beth has to a life she can control.
Q: What message do you hope readers take away from your story?
A: I hope that the story encourages people to talk more about how difficult early motherhood can be, and to be more aware of how new mothers in their lives might be feeling isolated or struggling.
Q: Do you plan your books in advance or let them develop as you write?
A: I’m a compulsive planner – I always know exactly where the story is going to go, before I actually start writing it. I’d never finish writing a book if I tried to wing it, and I’m so impressed by writer friends who can just fly by the seat of their pants!!
Q: Have you ever had a character take over a story, and if so, who was it and why?
A: Because I plan my books, I tend not to let my characters run away with the plot too much, but the way they engage with the action and make the plots unfold sometimes surprises me.
Q: Which one of the characters in this novel was the hardest to write and why?
A: It was very difficult to put myself into Grace’s shoes. Even writing a character with depression is challenging, but trying to immerse myself in the world of a woman who was so isolated with her struggle and so unsupported by her broader community was heartbreaking. I interviewed more than a dozen women as I was researching for Grace and Beth’s stories, and I have so much admiration for them and for all women who walk a journey with postpartum depression.
Q: Which character in any of your books (Truths I Never Told You or otherwise) is dearest to you and why?
A: In my last historical fiction novel, The Things We Cannot Say, I wrote a character named Eddie, who is a seven year old boy with autism spectrum disorder. I wanted to write about a child with ASD who is both loved and loving, and who is defined by his strengths as much as his challenges. Eddie will always be a very dear character to me, and I’ve been so honored by the way readers around the world have responded to him too.
Q: What did you want to be as a child? Was it an author?
A: I knew I wanted to be an author from a very early age. My dad remembers me telling him in Kindergarten that I was going to write books “when I grew up”!
Q: What does a day in the life of Kelly Rimmer look like?
A: Every day is different, especially at the moment when I’m self isolating at home and trying to school my children too!! I always try to fit in some time outside either tending to the garden or walking the trails on our property, but beyond that, it’s generally an unpredictable mix of reading, writing, teaching and cooking or cleaning.
Q: What do you use to inspire you when you get Writer’s Block?
A: I try to have two manuscripts on the go at any one time. If I get really stuck, I just switch books. I also skip scenes if they aren’t coming easily. For me, finishing a draft is all about momentum – so if I hit a point in the story where I can’t quite keep the words flowing, I’ll just write around it and come back to it later.
Q: What has been the hardest thing about publishing? What has been the most fun?
A: I still really love the way it feels to picture a story, and the challenge of trying to translate the ideas in my mind into words on the page will always thrill me. It’s taken a while for me to learn how to balance that creative side with the more pragmatic aspects to publishing. As a writer at home tapping away at your keyboard, you’re master of the story and it’s an intoxicating power – but as an author working with a whole team of people at your publisher, you have to learn how to be flexible. I’ve slowly learned that for my books to be as good as they can be, I don’t just need to endure editorial feedback, I need to learn to relish it. When I’m immersed in the story, I just can’t see the big picture the way my editors can. The author’s name goes on the spine, but the best books are the result of the work of a whole team of people at the publishing house too.
Q: What advice would you give budding authors about publishing?
A: No word you write is ever wasted, even if it doesn’t end up in a book. Most writers I know have thrown out entire manuscripts at different points during their career. You have to learn how to okay with the idea that sometimes you’re writing just to refine your voice or to figure out what does and doesn’t work for you. You have to love storytelling enough to be willing to do it even if the manuscript is never destined to become a book.
Q: What was the last book you read?
A:I’m currently reading (and loving) an advance copy of The Imperfects by Amy Meyerson, which will be published in late April.
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Book Description
After finding disturbing journal pages that suggest her late mother didn’t die in a car accident as her father had always maintained, Beth Walsh begins a search for answers to the question — what really happened to their mother? With the power and relevance of Jodi Picoult and Lisa Jewell, Rimmer pens a provocative novel told by two women a generation apart, the struggles they unwittingly shared, and a family mystery that may unravel everything they believed to be true.
With her father recently moved to a care facility because of worsening signs of dementia, Beth Walsh volunteers to clear out the family home to prepare it for sale. Why shouldn’t she be the one, after all? Her three siblings are all busy with their families and successful careers, and Beth is on maternity leave after giving birth to Noah, their miracle baby. It took her and her husband Hunter years to get pregnant, but now that they have Noah, Beth can only feel panic. And leaving Noah with her in-laws while she pokes about in their father’s house gives her a perfect excuse not to have to deal with motherhood.
Beth is surprised to discover the door to their old attic playroom padlocked, and even more shocked to see what’s behind it – a hoarder’s mess of her father’s paintings, mounds of discarded papers, and miscellaneous junk. Her father was the most fastidious, everything-in-its-place man, and this chaos makes no sense. As she picks through the clutter, she finds a handwritten note attached to one of the paintings, in what appears to be in her late mother’s handwriting. Beth and her siblings grew up believing Grace Walsh died in a car accident when they were little more than toddlers, but this note suggests something much darker may be true. A frantic search uncovers more notes, seemingly a series of loose journal entries that paint a very disturbing portrait of a woman in profound distress, and of a husband that bears very little resemblance to the father Beth and her siblings know.
A fast-paced, harrowing look at the fault in memories and the lies that can bond families together – or tear them apart.
Truths I Never Told You : A Novel
Kelly Rimmer
On Sale Date: April 14, 2020
Imprint: Graydon House
9781525804601, 152580460X
Trade Paperback
$16.99 USD, $22.99 CAD
Fiction / Historical
352 pages
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
TRUTHS I NEVER TOLD YOU by Kelly Rimmer is an intense new women’s fiction/historical mystery/suspense novel. This story follows a mother in 1957 and her daughter in 1997 with two simultaneous intertwining plot lines.
Patrick has been a beloved single father for many years and now his four children are finding it difficult to come to terms with placing him in a care facility due to his dementia and heart disease. When the youngest, Beth begins to clear the family home, she finds a disaster of paintings, papers and garbage behind the locked attic door. The siblings discover a trail of personal papers which lead them to question what they were told of their mother’s death in a car accident when they were very young.
Grace fell in love with Patrick and married young. Their family started immediately as they were strict Catholics that did not believe in birth control and money was always a problem. The twins came next and then little Beth. Patrick always promised to help, but not being able to deal with his wife’s difficulties, he turns to drink. All the children were barely over a year apart and after each birth Grace lived in a state of despair and depression. When Grace discovers she is once again pregnant, she knows she cannot go through with it and asks for help from her older sister, Maryanne.
Beth Walsh and her husband finally have a baby after years of fertility treatments, but since Noah’s birth Beth has not been herself. Her husband and sister finally get her to see a doctor and even though she is a child psychologist by profession, she fails to realize her own severe post-partum depression.
As Beth pieces together the mystery in the attic, she discovers her mother may have had the same difficulty with post-partum depression, but they were different times for her mother in the 1950’s. She and her siblings also want to find out about the mysterious Maryanne. Will the loving family be able to withstand their family secrets?
Ms. Rimmer did an amazing job of researching post-partum depression in both the 1950’s and present day and her empathy is apparent as you progress through the story. She made the inner secrets and feelings of both mother and daughter intertwine in a realistic portrayal for both their generations. I felt completely immersed in both timelines as they alternated throughout the story. Even as you are reading the intense mother/daughter stories, the author also brought Maryanne, Patrick and her three siblings lives to life on the pages. I loved how Beth cherished the written pages from her mother in the attic as a way to understand and connect with her. It is hard to not get completely immersed in this book, but it is also an emotionally difficult book to read.
I can highly recommend this novel!
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Excerpt
PROLOGUE
Grace
September 14, 1957
I am alone in a crowded family these days, and that’s the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. Until these past few years, I had no idea that loneliness is worse than sadness. I’ve come to realize that’s because loneliness, by its very definition, cannot be shared.
Tonight there are four other souls in this house, but I am unreachably far from any of them, even as I’m far too close to guarantee their safety. Patrick said he’d be home by nine tonight, and I clung on to that promise all day.
He’ll be home at nine, I tell myself. You won’t do anything crazy if Patrick is here, so just hold on until nine.
I should have known better than to rely on that man by now. It’s 11:55 p.m., and I have no idea where he is.
Beth will be wanting a feed soon and I’m just so tired, I’m already bracing myself—as if the sound of her cry will be the thing that undoes me, instead of something I should be used to after four children. I feel the fear of that cry in my very bones—a kind of whole-body tension I can’t quite make sense of. When was the last time I had more than a few hours’ sleep? Twenty-four hours a day I am fixated on the terror that I will snap and hurt someone: Tim, Ruth, Jeremy, Beth…or myself. I am a threat to my children’s safety, but at the same time, their only protection from that very same threat.
I have learned a hard lesson these past few years; the more difficult life is, the louder your feelings become. On an ordinary day, I trust facts more than feelings, but when the world feels like it’s ending, it’s hard to distinguish where my thoughts are even coming from. Is this fear grounded in reality, or is my mind playing tricks on me again? There’s no way for me to be sure. Even the line between imagination and reality has worn down and it’s now too thin to delineate.
Sometimes I think I will walk away before something bad happens, as if removing myself from the equation would keep them all safe. But then Tim will skin his knee and come running to me, as if a simple hug could take all the world’s pain away. Or Jeremy will plant one of those sloppy kisses on my cheek, and I am reminded that for better or worse, I am his world. Ruth will slip my handbag over her shoulder as she follows me around the house, trying to walk in my footsteps, because to her, I seem like someone worth imitating. Or Beth will look up at me with that gummy grin when I try to feed her, and my heart contracts with a love that really does know no bounds.
Those moments remind me that everything changes, and that this cloud has come and gone twice now, so if I just hang on, it will pass again. I don’t feel hope yet, but I should know hope, because I’ve walked this path before and even when the mountains and valleys seemed insurmountable, I survived them.
I’m constantly trying to talk myself around to calm, and sometimes, for brief and beautiful moments, I do. But the hard, cold truth is that every time the night comes, it seems blacker than it did before.
Tonight I’m teetering on the edge of something horrific.
Tonight the sound of my baby’s cry might just be the thing that breaks me altogether.
I’m scared of so many things these days, but most of all now, I fear myself.
Kelly Rimmer is the worldwide and USA TODAY bestselling author of Before I Let You Go, Me Without You, and The Secret Daughter. She lives in rural Australia with her husband, two children and fantastically naughty dogs, Sully and Basil. Her novels have been translated into more than twenty languages. Please visit her at www.Kelly.Rimmer.com
