I am very excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for Ciara Geraghty’s new book – RULES OF THE ROAD. I absolutely loved this thought provoking book of friendship, family and love! (Please Be Advised: The story does contain an assisted suicide.)
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an about the author section and the author’s social media links.
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Book Description
The simple fact of the matter is that Iris loves life. Maybe she’s forgotten that. Sometimes that happens, doesn’t it? To the best of us? All I have to do is remind her of that one simple fact.
When Iris Armstrong goes missing, her best friend Terry, wife, mother and all-round worrier, is convinced something bad has happened.
And when she finds her glamorous, feisty friend, she’s right: Iris is setting out on a journey that she plans to make her last.
The only way for Terry to stop Iris is to join her, on a road trip that will take her, Iris and Terry’s confused father Eugene onto a ferry, across the Irish sea and into an adventure that will change all of their lives.
Somehow what should be the worst six days of Terry’s life turn into the best.
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
RULES OF THE ROAD by Ciara Geraghty is a beautifully written and poignant women’s fiction story of friendship, family, and love. It is an emotional journey from start to finish and I was in a complete book hangover/coma when I hit the end. (Have some tissues handy for not only the sad tears, but the happy.)
Terry is a wife, a mother of two grown daughters, the rock of her family and an all-around worrier. Everything must be in its place and every precaution must be taken. The girls are gone now, but she has found out she needs to pick up her father, who has Alzheimer’s from his care home for the week.
When they return home, Terry realizes she has not seen her best and basically only friend and neighbor, Iris recently. Iris loves life. She is bold, says anything and is willing to try anything. But since Iris was diagnosed with primary progressive MS, Terry worries. Iris has been dealing with her disease, but it is and will get progressively worse. When she checks out Iris’ home, she finds her friend has made plans for a journey that will be her last.
Terry knows the only way to stop Iris is to join her. Terry, her father, Eugene and Iris take off on a six-day road trip from Ireland to Switzerland that will change all of their lives.
For me, this book is written with some of the most realistic and memorable characters of any women’s fiction book I have read so far this year. A friendship that at first glance seems strange, but then you realize their friendship is based on a deep love and caring that may not always be spoken, but it is heartfelt and strong. Iris had decided on her path and she enjoys the trip to its fullest, but in the end, she discovers she needs her friend to be with her and she does not want to be alone. Terry is the character that grows and blooms the most along every hour of their trip. Her interactions with her father, her wanting to change her best friend’s mind, the discovery of her own freedom and strengths, all converge in an emotional awakening that this author was able to capture beautifully with the written word. All the secondary characters were also fully fleshed and add an additional depth and realism to the story.
I cannot say enough about this beautiful story!
I highly recommend Rules of the Road!
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About the Author
I was born and reared in Dublin. My mother took one look at me and decided to call me Ciara (pronounced Keira as in Keira Knightly but with lower cheek bones…). When pressed, she said it was because she ‘liked’ the name. From that moment, until I turned thirty-four, I wrote not one word, discounting the diary I kept as a teenager, full of angst and regret and heartache and bitterness; the usual.
Then, when I was 34, I signed up for a creative writing nightclass in Plunkett’s College in Whitehall where I started writing stories. I haven’t stopped since.
I love writing and I hate writing. I love having written. I hate looking at the blank page or the blank screen and knowing that I have to fill it up with words that mightn’t be any good. It’s a bit like going to the gym. You hate going. But you feel great on your way home. Sweaty, with a face like a beef tomato. But great all the same.
I have three children and one husband and have recently adopted a dog who is the same age as my youngest daughter. Together, they are in charge of pretty much everything.
When I was growing up, you could tell the days of the week by the dinners we had. The worst day was Thursday when my mother made us eat liver. She made it worse by serving the liver with lovely homemade chips and sausages and rashers and egg; she called it a ‘mixed grill’. The blood from the liver ran across the plate and tainted everything. One of the best things about being an adult is that I don’t have to eat liver. Or peas. Or semolina.
My favourite time of the day is the night. Or very early in the morning. I wrote my first book, Saving Grace, mostly at night and in the early morning. Now, I write at nine o’clock in the morning and knock off when the children come home from school. I miss the night. And the early morning. But I’ve learned that writing is work and you have to be able to do it during the allocated hours and I suppose I’ve gotten used to it. The best bit about writing a book is the two words ‘The’ and ‘End’. It’s a bit like finding a pub in Ireland where you can smoke after hours – it’s that good.
Writing is addictive, probably because you feel a bit better about things when it’s done. It’s like drink that way, except it won’t give you a hangover or cirrhosis of the liver or anything nasty like that. You might get a stiff arse (that’s bottom in Irish) from sitting in the one place for too long but that’s about it. And even though stiff arses can be uncomfortable, they’re completely worth it when a reader tells me that they’ve read my book and that they liked it. That makes me feel like one of the Whos in Dr. Seuss’s Horton Hears a Who when they shout I am here. I am here. I am here. I am here.
Today I am very excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for Jamie Beck’s new novel – IF YOU MUST KNOW (Potomac Point Book #1).
Below you will find an author Q&A, a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Good luck on the giveaway and enjoy!
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Author Q&A
How do you describe your newest novel If You Must Know?
This book is a “beach book” in the best sense. It’s not angsty, yet it has a page-turning plot and a bunch of interesting, relatable characters. I think it’s entertaining and heartfelt at the same time, which is exactly what many enjoy reading while on vacation.
What inspired the novel?
The external plot came to me as a result of the influence of two people in my life. My dear friend’s husband is a forensic accountant, so some of his stories about how people hide money and flee their families provided one point of inspiration. The second is my mother’s best friend who, in her seventies, sold her house and bought a boat, which she and her husband live on full-time. The impetus for the oil-and-water sisters was to provide myself an opportunity to explore the sibling-rivalry dynamic.
Tell us about the two main characters in the story—sisters Amanda and Erin.
Amanda is the middle child. She’s diligent, earnest, hard-working, and generous. She wants the people she loves to be happy and feel her love. Her weakness is a deep-seated insecurity—a sense that she is not interesting enough to be lovable. This leads her to overlook when she is being taken for granted because her need to be pleasing is omnipresent.
Erin is the baby of the family and her late-father’s pet. She is outgoing, fun-loving, and views her average intelligence as a blessing (rather than lamenting that her siblings are smarter). She is willful and has her own way of moving through the world. The big weakness she has is her impulsiveness, whether with jobs or relationships. As she approaches her 30th birthday, she’s looking to mature and create a more stable life for herself.
What kind of relationship do the sisters have?
I think they share a typical relationship insofar as their differences cause many misunderstandings and instill in each a sense of being judged by the other, and yet they do care about and love each other, too. They simply do not know how to be true friends and trust the other—at least not at the outset of this tale.
This book focused on the main female characters growing and learning about themselves. What prompted this ‘women’s fiction’ approach to the story?
Partly market forces and partly my own need to stretch. At 53, it was becoming more difficult to write a 20-something woman facing the challenges of dating. The shift to women’s fiction allows me to write late-30 and early 40-something characters, which comes more naturally to me. I also enjoy exploring family and friendship dynamics, and absolutely love having endless options for story arcs (as opposed to having to follow a traditional romance arc).
What does your new Potomac Point series have in common with your previous books?
All my books to date have focused on critical relationships and some type of redemption theme. I find damaged people to be very interesting and believe that there is good in most everyone, so I prefer to populate my stories with flawed people who must confront their inner demons in order to be happy. My new books will also focus on relationships and redemption, but the non-romantic relationships (or even the relationship with one’s self) will be more central.
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Book Summary
Sisters Amanda Foster and Erin Turner have little in common except the childhood bedroom they once shared and the certainty each feels that her way of life is best. Amanda follows the rules—at the school where she works; in her community; and as a picture-perfect daughter, wife, and mother-to-be. Erin follows her heart—in love and otherwise—living a bohemian lifestyle on a shoestring budget and honoring her late father’s memory with a passion for music and her fledgling bath-products business.
The sisters are content leading separate but happy lives in their hometown of Potomac Point until everything is upended by lies that force them to confront unsettling truths about their family, themselves, and each other. For sisters as different as these two, building trust doesn’t come easily—especially with one secret still between them—but it may be the only way to save their family.
IF YOU MUST KNOW (Potomac Point Book #1) by Jamie Beck is her latest contemporary Women’s fiction and the start of a new series. Ms. Beck has written an emotional and realistic story with dysfunctional family members in upheaval that I found difficult to put down.
Amanda and Erin Turner are sisters that have gone about life differently and have never felt close. They lead separate lives as adults. Amanda was the middle child and always wanted to please by being perfect and was closest with her mother. Amanda followed her plan and went to college, got married and is now expecting her first child. While Erin was the baby of the family and always felt different and was closest to her father. Erin has always led a bohemian life and while she teaches yoga and makes her own soaps and scrubs has never really worried beyond the current day.
Suddenly everything changes.
Amanda finds out her marriage is not as perfect as she believed. Amanda’s mother loaned her husband the majority of her dad’s death benefits for a business deal and he has taken off. As these secrets are being kept, Erin moves home to help with her mother’s inability to take care of herself. Erin does not know if it is because of her mother’s continued grief over losing her husband a year ago or the stress of the missing money. Suddenly all three women are together again and must deal with unsettling truths about themselves and their family.
I loved the different and difficult family relationships. The characters and emotions were to me believable because having grown up in a large family I could relate to all their character traits. Ms. Beck has written a complex and fully fleshed sister-to-sister relationship that had to evolve from childhood hurts and misunderstandings to grow and help each other in the present. Amanda and Erin’s mother’s past also played a large role in the present family dynamics.
I enjoyed this first book in the series and I will be looking forward to more.
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Excerpt
I rolled onto my side with a groan, coming face-to-face with one of my favorite family photos. We’d taken our annual family summer trip to Hilton Head—the one real splurge my dad had made sure we enjoyed every year. We had a tradition of having lunch at a little open-air cabana bar and restaurant called Coco’s on the Beach.
Between the deck and the volleyball court in the sand stood a tall pole with colorful arrow-shaped signs pointing in different directions. Each one was painted with the name of a different city somewhere on the globe, along with the mileage to get there. We’d dream about all the places we might go, and after high school I’d had the chance to see many. In this picture, our whole family is standing around that sign, smiling at the camera. My dad has his hand on my shoulder, and if you look closely, you can see Amanda holding my hand. I must’ve been only five or six—young enough that she hadn’t given up trying to be my second mother. At the time, I’d felt smothered by her attention, but looking back, I’d also felt loved.
I grabbed my phone and called my sister, but it went to voice mail. A heaviness pressed on me, but I couldn’t tell if it was from looking at that picture of our family that would never again be whole or from the fact that I’d disappointed my mom and sister today.
They loved me in their way even if they couldn’t love and accept me as I am. My dad had, though, and to honor his memory and wishes for our family, I couldn’t continue to drift out of their lives as I’d been doing.
After the beep, I said, “Hey, it’s moi. Surprise! My plans have changed and I’ve got a little time. If you get this message, let me know where you are and I’ll try to catch up.”
I hit “End,” my feet restlessly kicking the foot of my bed. The small bedroom seemed claustrophobic, but I didn’t want to talk to Max. Not that I could avoid him in here, either, where his dirty laundry, sandals, and other items lay about. Rather than take a match to it all, I decided to organize some of his things to help with his packing. Hauling myself off the bed, I then went to the armoire to get to the vintage albums my dad had left me in his will.
Some were fairly valuable, like the Beatles collection box set from 1982, valued at roughly a thousand bucks. Or the Led Zeppelin first pressing with the turquoise label, which should net around eight hundred or so dollars. U2’s Joshua Tree collection box set from 1987—maybe worth six or seven hundred. Then there were others worth less than one hundred dollars. But each one had infinite sentimental value.
Every song resurrected a specific memory of time spent with my father playing cards, washing cars, grilling hot dogs … anything. Whatever he’d wanted to do, I’d done with him, and he’d always chosen the perfect background soundtrack for every activity. Those stolen moments had also been a great way to escape my mom’s endless lectures and demands. She’d never yelled at me for skipping out on chores or being messy when I’d been spending that time with him. Probably because he wouldn’t let her.
At present, my restlessness matched the mood of a typical Bob Seger song, so I grabbed Beautiful Loser and slipped the record from its sleeve, resisting the urge to hug it as if it were my dad. I set it on the old turntable he’d also left me. As the few first drumbeats clangored, my heart kicked an extra beat or two—partly happy, partly sad. I glanced toward the bedroom door, picturing Max on the sofa, and then got to work.
It didn’t matter where life led me next. I had faith because my own personal angel was looking out for me now.
Que será, será.
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Author Bio
Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author Jamie Beck’s realistic and heartwarming stories have sold more than two million copies. She is a two-time Booksellers’ Best Award finalist and a National Readers’ Choice Award winner, and critics at Kirkus, Publishers Weekly, and Booklist have respectively called her work “smart,” “uplifting,” and “entertaining.” In addition to writing novels, she enjoys hitting the slopes in Vermont and Utah and dancing around the kitchen while cooking. Above all, she is a grateful wife and mother to a very patient, supportive family. Fans can get exclusive excerpts, inside scoops, and be eligible for birthday gift drawings by subscribing to her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/b7k7G5. She also loves interacting with everyone on Facebook at www.facebook.com/JamieBeckBooks.
THE BANTY HOUSE by Carolyn Brown is a sweet, feel-good, poignant story that drops you into the lives of three elderly sisters in small town Texas who are about to have their lives changed forever.
Ginger Andrews has aged out of the system, has a baby on the way and no where to go. She dreams of seeing the ocean in California, but her bus ticket only goes as far as Hondo, Texas. As she is sitting on the bench outside of the hair salon, an elderly woman sits beside her. She is offered room and board for the weekend, but she is soon to find herself wrapped in the love and lives of the Carson sisters of the Banty house.
The Banty House was a long-ago brothel run by the sister’s mother, Belle. For more than seventy-five years, Kate, Betsy and Connie Carson have lived in and cared for their mama’s home. They have big hearts and each has her own passion.
Ginger is not only a breath of fresh air to the sisters, but she also intrigues their handyman, Sloan Baker. Sloan came home from the Army broken and swore to never get close to anyone ever again. Ginger’s past may not be the same, but it is just as broken. Slowly, the two discover they may just be what the other needs to heal.
The Banty House is once again to be the safe place where healing happens and hopes and dreams never fade.
I felt like I was wrapped in the love and acceptance of the three sisters as I read this story. They are wonderful characters who always lived their lives on their own terms, but also followed the moral upbringing of their mama. They are just what Ginger needed, even as it took awhile for her to accept that. Ginger was just what Sloan needed, but I was disappointed by how often she kept thinking about leaving. The romance that grew between Ginger and Sloan was a cozy romance, but never overshadowed the main themes of love, healing and acceptance overall. I enjoyed this book and would recommend it, but it was not my favorite by this author.
You are going to love the Carson sisters of Banty House.
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Author Biography
Carolyn
Brown is a New York Times, USA Today, Publisher’s
Weekly, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author and a
RITA finalist with more than ninety published books. Her genres include
romance, history, cowboys and country music, and contemporary mass-market
paperbacks. She and her husband live in the small town of Davis, Oklahoma,
where everyone knows everyone else, knows what they are doing and when . . .
and reads the local newspaper every Wednesday to see who got caught. They have
three grown children and enough grandchildren to keep them young. Visit Carolyn
at www.carolynbrownbooks.com.
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 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
I am very excited to be on this Harlequin Blog Tour. Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SUNRISE ON HALF MOON BAY by Robyn Carr.
Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Summary
Sometimes the happiness we’re looking for has been there all along…
Adele and Justine have never been close. Born twenty years apart, Justine was already an adult when Addie was born. The sisters love each other but they don’t really know each other.
When Addie dropped out of university to care for their ailing parents, Justine, a successful lawyer, covered the expenses. It was the best arrangement at the time but now that their parents are gone, the future has changed dramatically for both women.
Addie had great plans for her life but has been worn down by the pressures of being a caregiver and doesn’t know how to live for herself. And Justine’s success has come at a price. Her marriage is falling apart despite her best efforts.
Neither woman knows how to start life over but both realize they can and must support each other the way only sisters can. Together they find the strength to accept their failures and overcome their challenges. Happiness is within reach, if only they have the courage to fight for it.
Set in the stunning coastal town of Half Moon Bay, California, Robyn Carr’s new novel examines the joys of sisterhood and the importance of embracing change.
SUNRISE ON HALF MOON BAY
Author: Robyn Carr
ISBN: 9780778309482
Publication Date: 4/14/2020
Publisher: MIRA Books
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
SUNRISE ON HALF MOON BAY by Robyn Carr is her new Women’s fiction novel set in a small California coastal town featuring two sisters who are about to deal with life changing transitions. This story is full of love, empathy, strength and pain as the two sister’s lives change.
Justine and Adele have led very different lives. They are twenty years apart in age and even though they like each other, they are not close.
Justine is a successful, high-power corporate attorney with a stay at home husband and two daughters. Married since college, Justine has devoted her life and long working hours to making a comfortable life for her family. With her company’s merger, she has to make some decisions about the type of work she wants in the future. And then she finds out her husband of twenty-eight years has been having an affair.
Adele returned home from college to be the caregiver for her ailing parents. After eight years as a caregiver, she has few friends and is stuck in a rut. Then Justine comes to tell Adele, finances are tight and she needs to get a job, Adele feels betrayed.
Each woman must find ways to start over and they both discover they need each other more than ever. Together they fight to overcome their failures and learn to fight for their new happiness.
I enjoyed this book so much and found it difficult to put down. Justine and Adele were so different and yet they were there for each other. Justine’s feelings of pain and heartbreak were written with such empathy by this author. How she was afraid to cry because she thought she would crack and not be able to keep all her responsibilities together ripped at my heart. I was cheering for Adele as she took the steps to change her personal life, but I was completely frustrated when she kept refusing to move on emotionally.
I was engrossed in all the emotions, good and bad that this story made me feel. All the secondary characters were fully fleshed and were essential players in this story. There is one mild sex scene that is not gratuitous. (Please Be Advised: this story contains adultery, domestic abuse and a stillborn birth.)
I highly recommend this emotional and ultimately uplifting story!
***
Excerpt
“Has it ever occurred to Scott to get a serious job?” Adele asked. “I mean, forgive me, since I haven’t had a serious job in my life.”
Justine smiled patiently. “Your jobs have all been serious, and without you we’d have been lost. If you hadn’t dedicated yourself to Mom’s care, it would have cost our whole family a fortune. We’re indebted to you. And I agree it would help if Scott worked more than part-time, but I think that ship sailed years ago. He’s only worked part-time since Amber and Olivia came along.”
Adele adored her nieces, ages sixteen and seventeen. She was much closer to them than she was to Justine.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” Adele said. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“Well, the thing is, the future is looking very uncertain. I might need your help,” Justine said.
“What could I do?” she asked.
“Adele, I don’t like to push you, but you have to get it together. We have to make some decisions about what you’re going to do, what we’ll do with the house. I realize what I’ve given you for your hard work hasn’t been much, but I don’t know how long I can keep it up—paying for the maintenance on this house, the taxes, a modest income for you… I don’t want to panic prematurely,” Justine said. “Maybe I’ll be able to work everything out without too much hassle, but if I run into trouble… Money could get very tight, Addie. All those promises I made—that I’d help financially while you fix up the house, that I’d give you my half of the proceeds when and if you sold it… I might not be able to come through. I know, I know, I promised you it would be yours after all of your sacrifice, but you wouldn’t want me to ignore the girls’ tuition or not be able to make the mortgage…”
“But Justine!” Adele said. “That’s all I have! And I was considering finishing school myself!” Though if she was honest, she had no plans of any kind.
Justine reached out to her, squeezing her hand. “We’re a long way from me needing money. I just felt it was only fair to tell you what’s going on. If we’re in this together, we can both make it. I swear, I will make this all work out. I’ll make it right.”
But as Adele knew, they had never really been “in it together” in the past, and they wouldn’t be for very long in the future. Addie’s dedication to their parents allowed Justine to devote herself to her career. For that matter, it should be Justine and Scott shoring each other up. At least until Justine had a better idea. But where was Scott today? Golfing? Biking? Bowling?
Adele realized she had some difficult realities to face. When she dropped out of school to help her mother care for her father, she wasn’t being completely altruistic. She’d needed a place to run away to, hiding an unplanned pregnancy and covering her tattered heart. She’d never told her family that her married lover—her psychology professor—had broken down in tears when he explained he couldn’t leave his wife to marry Adele, that the college would probably fire him for having an affair with a student. For her, going home was the only option.
At the time Justine and Scott had been riding the big wave and didn’t lust after the small, old house in Half Moon Bay. That house was chump change to them. So, they worked out a deal. Adele had become her mother’s guardian with a power of attorney. But the will had never been adjusted to ref lect just one beneficiary rather than two. In the case of the death of both parents, Adele and Justine would inherit equal equity in the eighty-year-old house and anything left of the life insurance. At the time, of course, neither Adele nor Justine had ever considered the idea that Adele would be needed for very long. But before Adele knew it, eight years had been gobbled up. She was thirty-two and had been caring for her parents since she was twenty-four.
Adele, as guardian, could have escaped by turning over the house, pension, social security to a care facility for her mother and gone out on her own, finding herself a better job and her own place to live. She wasn’t sure if it was her conscience or just inertia that held her in place for so long.
“I just wanted to make sure you understood the circumstances before anything more happens,” Justine said. “And since you don’t have any immediate plans, please don’t list the house for sale or anything. Give me a chance to figure out what’s next. I have children. I’ll do whatever I can to protect them and you. They’re your nieces! They love you so much. I’m sure you want them to get a good education as much as I do.”
Does anyone want me to have a real chance to start over? Adele asked herself. This conversation sounded like Justine was pulling out of their deal.
“I’ll think about this, but Scott has responsibilities, too,” she pointed out.
“He’s been out of the full-time workforce for so long…” Justine said.
“Just the same, we all have to live up to our adult commitments and responsibilities. And you’ve had a highfalutin job for a long time. You’ve made a lot of money. You can recover. I haven’t even begun.”
“I need your help, Addie,” Justine said. “You need to come up with a plan, something we can put in motion. Make plans for your next step, put a little energy into this old house, make suggestions of what we should do with it, everything. Let’s figure out what to do before I find myself short and unable to help. I’m sorry, but we have to move forward.”
Robyn Carr is an award-winning, #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than sixty novels, including highly praised women’s fiction such as Four Friends and The View From Alameda Island and the critically acclaimed Virgin River, Thunder Point and Sullivan’s Crossing series. Virgin River is now a Netflix Original series. Robyn lives in Las Vegas, Nevada. Visit her website at www.RobynCarr.com.
