#booksummary – Page 13 – Avonna Loves Genres

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: If You Must Know by Jamie Beck

Hi, everyone!

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.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/49372065-if-you-must-know

Title: If You Must Know

Author: Jamie Beck

Release Date: June 1, 2020

Publisher: Montlake

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

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.

Social Media Links

Website – https://jamiebeck.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/JamieBeckBooks/

Twitter – https://twitter.com/writerjamiebeck

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8020971.Jamie_Beck

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Rafflecopter Giveaway

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/07c2363f261

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Sister Dear by Hannah Mary McKinnon

Hi, everyone!

Today is my turn to share my Feature Post and Book Review on the Mira Trade Blog Tour for SISTER DEAR by Hannah Mary McKinnon.

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. Enjoy!

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Author Q&A

1. How did publishing your first book change your process of writing, if at all?

With each book my process has become more streamlined, but the biggest change is that, five books in, I feel more in control. That doesn’t necessarily mean it gets easier. Self-doubt always, always creeps in, particularly when I’m writing my first “skeleton draft,” which is a first, very loose version nobody will ever see. It’s rough, dirty and…terrible—my skeleton drafts always have been. However, I’ve learned to trust my writing process. If I can get the bones of the story on paper, I’ll add layers and complexity as I go over the novel again and again in preparation for my editor’s eyes. I accept the finer details will come as I work through the story. Just like most people who draw, paint, or write music or books, the first draft will never be my best work. I’m glad I’ve accepted that because it stops me from being overly self-critical when I start a project. I’m also more disciplined than in the past because I have deadlines. And I’ve always loved deadlines—especially beating them.

2. What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?

It depends on the novel. For Time After Time (my debut, a rom com) there were geographical considerations, and, as the novel took place from the 1980s to the 2010s, I had to ensure my references to pop culture were accurate. In The Neighbors, Her Secret Son and Sister Dear (suspense / psychological thrillers) there were similar geographical issues to consider, but I also had to research legal details. I sought the help from an advisor from child services, a lawyer, a medical examiner, and a police detective, to name but a few. I’m continually amazed how people are so incredibly generous with their time, knowledge and expertise when I call and say, “I’m an author, honest, and I have a few weird questions.” For example, fellow author Bruce Robert Coffin is a retired police detective, and he’s helped me get away with fictional murder multiple times. His input is incredible!

I don’t do a lot of research before I start writing but tend to put placeholders for areas that need fleshing out, and go back to them after I’ve finished my first draft. That way I’m not spending hours on facts that don’t make the cut, or getting sidetracked by facts which are interesting, but potentially irrelevant to the story.

3. Which thriller author inspired you to get into this genre?

Jennifer Hillier. I was waiting for my son at our local library when I spotted her debut, Creep, on a shelf. Intrigued by the cover, I picked it up, read the blurb and took it home. I devoured it in a matter of days and it was career changing.

When I was younger, I mainly read thrillers, but after a personal tragedy in my early 20s, the only thing I could stomach was light-hearted reads. Creep reminded me of my love of thrillers, and I realized the second book I was working on, The Neighbors, was far grittier than my debut. Jennifer’s book gave me that final push I needed to cross over to the dark side. Fun fact: we live in the same town and have become great friends. Jennifer is an inspiration and fiercely talented, and I have all her books. I’ll read anything she writes!

4. What’s the one element of a thriller novel that is a MUST?

Plot twists and secrets. I want to be surprised when I’m reading a thriller, although that can be said for any genre, so I guess you need to throw in a dead body or two somewhere as well.

5. Where do you get your ideas?

So far, I can pinpoint exactly how each book started. Time After Time is a story about a woman who’s unhappy with her life, which was me when we moved to Canada and my HR company crashed and burned, although the rest of the novel is fictional. The idea for The Neighbors came to me when two houses on our courtyard went up for sale, and I wondered who might move in. Her Secret Son stemmed from a news segment I saw while I was at the gym (probably wishing I were eating cake instead).

I’ll elaborate a little more for Sister Dear: I heard a radio segment about a woman who’d found a wedding ring at a playground and was trying to locate the owner through social media. It got me thinking—what if the woman found out the ring’s owner had a dream life, and felt jealous? The more I thought about it, the more twisted things became. I realized the individuals had to be related somehow, and if I made them half-sisters it would add to the drama and intrigue. It seems some of the most despicable acts are carried out within families. That was something I wanted to explore.

6. Has there ever been a moment in your life that inspired one of your thriller novels?

No, I can honestly say that, thankfully, my books aren’t true crime! I do sprinkle little details here and there my family might recognize. Superman pajamas, a stuffed toy, those kinds of things, but otherwise I don’t pull from my life.

7. What is your writing process like?

Very structured, and the more I write, the more I plan. My novels start with an idea—something that pops into my head such as the radio segment for Sister Dear, or a newspaper article or a discussion I overheard. I noodle the thoughts around for a while as the main characters take shape. The next step is to write an outline. I start by jotting down the big picture plot points, which I then use as stepping-stones to build and write the rest of the outline. I fill out personality questionnaires for my main characters to understand them better, and search for photos on the internet to build a gallery I stick on my pin-board. By this point I’m raring to go.

At first, I write a basic, largely unedited manuscript that’s about two-thirds of the final word count, then layer and develop until I’m happy calling it a first draft, and send it to my wonderful editor, Emily. That’s when the real editing work begins, which is incredibly exciting because I know the story will become a thousand times better with her expert input.

8. Do you find it easier to write character and dialogue for the opposite sex because you are the opposite sex? (A woman writing a man’s part and dialogue for example).

I love writing men and women equally, dialogue, and otherwise. My first experience of writing a male point of view character was in The Neighbors, and I adored working on Nate’s chapters. In Her Secret Son, the entire book is written from Josh’s point of view, and it was such a great challenge to do so. Sister Dear is exclusively told by my protagonist Eleanor, but next year’s book features three characters, two women and one man. The one after that will be a man’s point of view and I’m itching to get started because I can hear his very distinctive voice in my head.

To be honest, I try not to overthink whether I’m writing a man or a woman. The important thing is to give them a voice, develop their character, and make them seem as real to the reader as they are to me.

9. When you’re not working on your latest novel, what do you like to do for fun?

I love getting outdoors for a hike, I’m a huge fan of the movies (I love the trailers!), I go to the gym and participate in a few obstacle runs in the summer (I live for the mud and obstacles, I’m rubbish at the running part). We have three teenage boys, so my husband and I spend time with them as often as they’ll let us. Watching films as a family is one of my favourite things. There’s something deeply comforting about us having a laugh together and just hanging out.

10. What kind of advice would you give to aspiring thriller READERS?

Try different sub-genres, of which there are many. Perhaps you love police procedurals, or psychological thrillers may fascinate you. Maybe you don’t want something overly graphic, so cozies might be to your taste, or alternatively you could go hard-boiled noir. I think some people have the impression thrillers are all blood, guts and gore, but that’s not the case. There’s something for everyone. Take Jill Orr, author of the Riley Ellison Mystery series. Sure, people die in her books, but her novels are laugh-out-loud funny. She’s a comedic genius.

11. What advice do you have for writers?

Read as much and often as you can and listen to audio books. I wrote an article about how the latter make you a better author here. Write, even if you think it’s rubbish, because an empty page is impossible to edit. Another tip someone once suggested was to skip ahead if I couldn’t get a grasp on a chapter or scene, that I should focus on another part of the manuscript and trust myself enough to backfill later. It was revolutionary to me, and it beats the heck out of staring at a blank page or shoving my hand in the cookie jar. Also, I was advised to read my manuscript out loud. Every. Single. Word. Doing so helps avoid repetition, improves cadence, and zaps stilted dialogue. And, finally, share your work. It can be scary, but it’s the only way you’ll get feedback and improve your craft.

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Book Summary

In Hannah Mary McKinnon’s psychological thriller, SISTER DEAR (MIRA Trade; May 26, 2020; $17.99), the obsession of Single White Female meets the insidiousness of You, in a twisted fable about the ease of letting in those who wish us harm, and that mistake’s dire consequences.

The day he dies, Eleanor Hardwicke discovers her father – the only person who has ever loved her – is not her father. Instead, her biological father is a wealthy Portland businessman who wants nothing to do with her and to continue his life as if she doesn’t exist. That isn’t going to work for Eleanor.

Eleanor decides to settle the score. So, she befriends his daughter Victoria, her perfect, beautiful, carefree half-sister who has gotten all of life’s advantages while Eleanor has gotten none.

As she grows closer to Victoria, Eleanor’s obsession begins to deepen. Maybe she can have the life she wants, Victoria’s life, if only she can get close enough.

SISTER DEAR

Author: Hannah Mary McKinnon

ISBN: 9780778309550

Publication Date: May 26, 2020

Publisher: MIRA Books

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/49932568-sister-dear

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

SISTER DEAR by Hannah Mary McKinnon is a new psychological thriller that starts out more like a general women’s fiction story, but it is a slow burn that builds to a definite twisted thriller ending.

Eleanor Hardwick’s parents divorced when she was young. She was the apple of her father’s eye, but her mother constantly criticized her weight and looks which leads to extreme self-esteem issues and binge eating. Her father is dying of cancer and when she goes to visit her father in hospice, she overhears her mother and father arguing. She is shocked to learn the father who loved her is not her biological father.

Eleanor’s biological father is a multi-millionaire property mogul with a beautiful wife and beautiful daughter the same age as Eleanor. When her biological father rejects her, she is determined to become a part of her half-sister’s life. Victoria is not everything she appears to be and Eleanor is drawn into wanting to befriend her as much as wanting to take what she has.

I really felt for Eleanor. I felt Ms. McKinnon did a good job of portraying a woman with extremely low self-esteem and an eating disorder. The family dynamics in this story are dysfunctional and there are few likable characters, but they are all interesting. I especially felt for Eleanor when her father died and yet even as I empathized with her, she made some poor decisions that had me wondering about her overall character arc because she was more flawed than vindictive which was not what I was expecting. The plot is dark with some unexpected twists. The pace does not pick up speed until the last half of the book, but the shocking ending was worth the wait.

I can recommend this book as a different and dark women’s fiction story with a thriller’s ending.

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Excerpt

Chapter 1

The police didn’t believe me.

A jury wouldn’t have, either, if I’d gone on trial, and most definitely not the judge. My attorney had more than a few reservations about my story. Ms. Allerton hadn’t said as much. She didn’t need to. I saw it in her eyes, could tell by the way she shuffled and reshuffled her papers, as if doing so might shake my lies clean off the pages, leaving only the truth behind in her inky, royal blue swirls.

After our first meeting I’d concluded she must’ve known early on—before she shook my hand with her icy fingers—that I was a liar. Before she’d walked into the room in shiny, four-inch heels, she’d no doubt decided she’d heard my excuses, or a variation thereof, from countless clients already. I was yet another person claiming to be innocent. Another criminal who’d remained adamant they’d done nothing wrong, it wasn’t their fault, honest, despite the overwhelming amount of evidence to the contrary, a wall of impending doom surrounding me.

And still, at the time I’d believed the only reason Ms. Allerton had taken on my case pro-bono was because of the amount of publicity it gave her firm. Reducing my sentence—for there would be one—would amplify her legacy as a hot-shot lawyer. I’d accepted her help. There was no other option. I needed her knowledge, her expertise, saw her as my final hope. I now know her motivations were something else I’d miscalculated. All hope extinguished. Game over.

If I’m being fair, the judgements Ms. Allerton and other people had made about me weren’t completely wrong. I had told lies, some, anyway. While that stripped away part of my claim to innocence, it didn’t mean I was entirely guilty. Not of the things everybody said I’d done. Things I’d had no choice but to confess to, despite that being my biggest lie of all.

But I’ll tell you the truth. The whole truth and nothing but. I’ll start at the beginning, and share everything that happened. Every last detail leading up to one fateful night. The night someone died because of me. The night I lost you, too.

I won’t expect your forgiveness. Our relationship—or lack thereof—will have gone way beyond that point. No. All I can hope for, is that my side of the story will one day help you understand why I did the things I did.

And why I have to do the things I’ve not yet done.

Published by MIRA Books

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Author Bio

Hannah Mary McKinnon was born in the UK, grew up in Switzerland and moved to Canada in 2010. After a successful career in recruitment, she quit the corporate world in favor of writing, and is now the author of The Neighbors and Her Secret Son. She lives in Oakville, Ontario, with her husband and three sons, and is delighted by her twenty-second commute.

Social Links

Author Website

Twitter: @HannahMMcKinnon

Instagram: @hannahmarymckinnon

Facebook: @HannahMaryMcKinnon

Buy Links

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Heirloom Garden by Viola Shipman

Hi, everyone!

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

Author: Viola Shipman

ISBN: 9781525804618

Publication Date: April 28, 2020

Publisher: Graydon House

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14056193.Viola_Shipman

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

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.

***

Author Bio

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.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS

Author Website: https://www.violashipman.com/

TWITTER: @viola_shipman

FB: @authorviolashipman

Insta: @viola_shipman

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14056193.Viola_Shipman

BUY LINKS

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Sunrise on Half Moon Bay by Robyn Carr

Hi, everyone!

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

***

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.”

***

Author Bio

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.

Social Links

Author Website: https://www.robyncarr.com/

Twitter: @RCarrWriter

Facebook: @RobynCarrWriter

Instagram: @RobynCarrWriterGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/107767.Robyn_Carr?from_search=true

Buy Links

Feature Post and Book Review: In Bed with the Earl by Christi Caldwell

Hi, everyone!

Today I am excited to share my Feature Post and Book Review for Christi Caldwell’s new book IN BED WITH THE EARL (Lost Lords of London Book #1).

Below you will find an author guest post, a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an author bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Good luck and enjoy!

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Author Guest Post: Flaws Make the Man

My newest release, In Bed with the Earl, features an unlikely Regency hero. He was born to nobility, was kidnapped, and grew up in the roughest streets of London, as a ‘tosher’…a sewer scavenger. Nothing about Malcom or his past is in any way conventional, but he also represents how our pasts shape who we are. And there is no doubting, his past molded him into who he is… a man who doesn’t let people close…and who protects what he does have. Which is why…when he does meet Verity, someone who wants to be close for him (first, for reasons related to her work…and then, the more she knows him, simply because she’s falling for him) he resists.

People are impacted by life, in different ways. We all have many layers; and for Malcom, those layers are protective ones; a shield to protect himself from being hurt…because he’s already known so much. Yes, he’s coarse and ragged, and rough, but beneath that, readers (I hope) will see what Verity sees…that he has a good heart, and is deserving of a happily-ever-after, not only for who he is to others, but because, with the life he’s lived, he deserves it for himself.

***

Summary

To solve a mystery that’s become the talk of the ton, no clues run too deep for willful reporter Verity Lovelace. Not even in the sewers of London. That’s precisely where she finds happily self-sufficient scavenger Malcom North, lost heir to the Earl of Maxwell. Now that Verity’s made him front-page news, what will he make of her?

Kidnapped as a child, with no memories of his well-heeled past, Malcom prefers the grimy spoils of the culverts to the gilded riches of society. Damn the feisty beauty who exposed the contented tosher to a parade of fortune-hunting matchmakers. How to keep them at bay? Verity must pretend to be his wife. She owes him.

The intimacy of this necessary arrangement—Verity and Malcom thrust together in close quarters—soon sparks an irresistible heat. But when the charade ends, the danger begins. Will love be enough to protect them from a treacherous plot devised to ruin them?

About the Book

Title: In Bed with the Earl

Author: Christi Caldwell

Release Date: March 17, 2020

Publisher: Montlake

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

IN BED WITH THE EARL (Lost Lords of London Book #1) by Christi Caldwell is the first book in a new historical romance series that had me engrossed from page one!

While sick in bed and his parents dead, Percival Northrop is kidnapped and his life becomes a day to day struggle to survive in the St. Giles area of Victorian London. He blocks his memory of his younger life and learns the life of a tosher. He is now known as Malcolm North and is ruthless as he fights to survive and thrive in the sewers of London.

Malcolm does not quite fit with his fellow toshers. He can read, calculate and speaks as if he is upper class. He is located by a private detective and told that he is the actual true heir to an Earldom. Malcom wants nothing to do with that life.

Verity Lovelace has worked for The Londoner since she was twelve years old. She worked her way from inkwell girl to reporter, but because she is a woman she is only given the opportunity to write the gossip column. She is the bastard daughter of an Earl and has been the sole support for her sister and nursemaid for years since her mother died. After having one of her stories stolen, her job is on the line and she must find the missing Earl and interview him or be out of a work.

Verity is rescued in the sewers by Malcolm. The two butt heads as Verity refuses to be give up her chase of the story. Malcolm has never let anyone get close, but there is something about this female that he cannot forget. Verity is determined to get her story, but is she ready to pay the price?

I loved Malcom and Verity so much! I could not put this book down. Malcolm’s fight for survival and life as a tosher was interesting and a life that was new to me. Even as he refused his memories and emotions, he took care of others. Verity was a survivor as much as Malcolm and that is what made them so perfect for each other. The author’s writing is emotionally charged banter that made me laugh out loud as well as tear up. The sexual tension between these two was well written and there is only one sex scene towards the very end of the story. It is explicit, but not gratuitous. All the secondary characters were fully fleshed and wonderful additions to the story.

I highly recommend this historical romance and I am waiting anxiously for the next book in this series!

***

Excerpt: In Bed with the Earl by Christi Caldwell

“May I help you, Miss Lovelace?”

That lethal purr sounded from the front of the room, a silky taunt.

With a gasp, the page slipped from her fingers and fluttered to a damning place at her feet.

Mr. Bram yanked the cloths from his eyes, and he took in Verity beside Mr. North’s open desk. And all the color left his face. “Oh, bloody hell.”

Oh, bloody hell, indeed. And all thoughts of having been rescued by a savior, and even the importance of this story, fled in the face of the danger staring back at her in his ruthless gaze.

He is going to kill me…

Verity swallowed hard. “If you’ll excuse us?” Mr. North murmured.

Verity took a step toward the door.

“Not you, Miss Lovelace.”

Mr. Bram climbed awkwardly to his feet. “Oi’m so sorry,” he said hoarsely, an apology that went ignored by Mr. North.

Her heart lurched. Every muscle in her body lurched. This was bad. Which would have been the understated statement of the century. She curled her toes into the soles of her borrowed slippers and followed the stranger’s—nay, he was no longer a stranger in name—the Earl of Maxwell’s gaze. As dread slowly wound its way through her, Verity curled those digits all the tighter.

And as it was all the easier to focus on matters within her control, she looked to her older patient as he limped across the room. “Be sure and try out those remedies, Mr. Bram.” She felt Mr. North sharpen his gaze on her person. “And I’ve something that might help with that limp, too,” she promised.

The older man stopped. “Do ya, now?”

She may as well have promised him the sun, moon, and stars for the way he looked at her. “Oh, yes. You’ll require—”

“Bram,” Mr. North snapped, and the older man instantly scuttled off, but not before flashing her an apologetic look.

“It is really not Mr. Bram’s fault. He’s not done anything wrong. You really shouldn’t take your…”

Not taking his eyes from her person, he reached behind him with an agonizing slowness and drew the door shut. Click. That soft but decisive snap that served as a seal of her fate.

Just like that, Verity’s bravado flagged. She clutched at the fabric of her skirts. Wanting to be the composed reporter gathering her research, and undaunted in the face of peril.

And she came up … pathetically empty.

That cold smile affixed to hard lips remained in place, a grin that no person would dare mistake for anything but the feral threat it was. He pushed away from the door and started a languid stroll toward her.

Had she truly been relieved about determining the identity of her savior and captor?

It was now all muddled.

“Now, Miss Lovelace? If that is your name?”

“M-my name?” Wasn’t it? Even her name eluded her in that moment. “Of course it is.” Her voice ended on a croak as he drew ever closer; the ice that frosted his gaze sprang her to the reality now facing her, the menace that spilled from his broad frame. Mayhap she’d been wrong. Because she’d experience with earls—was, in fact, the daughter of one. They were nothing like the predatory devil that stalked her now. “I am Miss Verity Lovelace. What grounds would I have to lie?” She hurried to place the chair of his desk between them as another barrier.

He stopped his pursuit. “And how may I help you?”

Ironically, the stranger—the gentleman—could have uttered no truer words than those.

They fortified her, and sent resolve creeping back into her spine as she brought her shoulders back. Verity met his gaze squarely. “Are you the Earl of Maxwell?”

Except, she already knew as much … she simply sought the confirmation from the gentleman’s mouth.

His eyes grew shuttered, but not before she caught the flash of horror in their blue-black depths.

He was a man unaccustomed to being challenged. And his unsettledness eased away further frissons of fear. Verity slid out from behind his desk chair and glided slowly across the room. She stopped when only a handful of steps separated her from the very stranger who’d put a knife to her earlier that night.

“Do I look like an earl?” he countered, belated with that reply—that deliberately evasive one.

Taking that as an invitation to study him, Verity peered at Mr. North. That slightly hooked nose, which had been broken one or more times, did little to conceal the aquiline appendage that served as a signal of his birthright. The small white nicks and scars merely marred a canvas of otherwise flawless high, chiseled cheeks and a hard, square jawline.

Glorious. Her pulse throbbed a beat harder. His features, melded with those flaws, only served to mark him beautiful in his masculinity.

His mouth crept up in a tight, one-sided smile that didn’t meet pitiless eyes. “Did you have a good look, Miss Lovelace?” He’d noted her appreciation. Verity’s cheeks burnt, and she curled her toes into the soles of her borrowed slippers. He merely sought to disconcert her. It was a familiar state she’d found herself many times before, with many men before him. Feigning nonchalance, Verity gave her head a little toss. “You have the look and the tones of an earl,” she pointed out. “And more…” She gestured to those private missives she’d availed herself to. “You have letters written regarding the Baron Bolingbroke.” Verity stretched up on her tiptoes so she could at least hold his gaze and not be peered down at. “Therefore, Mr. North, I would say you are, in fact, the Earl of Maxwell, after all.”

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Author Biography

USA Today Bestselling, RITA-nominated author Christi Caldwell blames Julie Garwood and Judith McNaught for luring her into the world of historical romance. While sitting in her graduate school apartment at the University of Connecticut, Christi decided to set aside her notes and pick up her laptop to try her hand at romance. She believes the most perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections, and she rather enjoys torturing them before crafting them a well deserved happily ever after!

Christi makes her home in southern Connecticut where she spends her time writing her own enchanting historical romances and caring for her three spirited children!

Social Media Links

Website: http://christicaldwell.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorChristiCaldwell/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/christicaldwell

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5297089.Christi_Caldwell

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Feature Post and Book Review: My Way to You by Catherine Bybee

Hi, everyone!

Today I am very excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for MY WAY TO YOU (Canyon Creek Series Book #1) by Catherine Bybee. This is an emotional and heartfelt romantic start to this new series.

Below you will find an author interview, a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author blurb and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!

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Author Interview

Please tell us about the fire that inspired your newest novel My Way To You.

I was taking my youngest son to his senior pictures for the school when we noticed a plume of smoke in the rearview mirror. I have lived through many fire scares in the twenty years I lived in my home. Only this time, it wouldn’t be a false alarm.

You had to evacuate your house because of the fire. How did you feel in those moments?

I was thankful my children and I escaped, and terrified that I would come home to nothing but ash and debris. I’d packed up the cars with pictures and things I felt I couldn’t replace, but had to leave one of my cars behind because the fire engine was blocking my ability to drive it away. But none of that truly mattered. I felt like all the work I had done to keep my children’s family home after my recent divorce was for nothing. That fire was going to undermine the stability I had desperately tried to preserve. In short, I was an emotional mess.

While your property suffered immense damage, thankfully your home was left standing. Did this experience change the meaning of that word for you—home?

Home is stability. It’s a base for all the things we cherish. But it’s the people who make it so. I had a conversation with my youngest son not too long ago. I asked him if he missed the home he grew up in. (I’ve since moved to San Diego and sold my property in Santa Clarita.) This is what he said, “The day we ran from the fire, I stopped caring about the house. I didn’t think it would be there when we came back.” So no, he doesn’t miss his childhood home. I was shocked to hear this since my youngest tends to hold back his feelings. I lived in that house for 21 of my 51 years of life. There were memories in every corner. But in the end, the fire and flood… and exhaustion made it easier for me to sell it and walk away. Now that I’m in a new place I’m reminded that my family and memories are always with me—and a house is wood and stone. Whether I like it or not, however… it is stability. And that was shook to its core because of the fire.

Your life changed drastically in just one day, which is something your heroine Parker experiences—twice. The first time is when her parents die. How does this one event inform the course of her life?

She has to stop thinking about herself and put others before her. She had to grow up. Trauma changes you! Period. And I needed Parker to experience that so she could realize just how strong she was.

She has to find that strength again when fire almost destroys her home. Tell us how your heroine changes during all of this.

She needed to learn to lean on others again. Her parents death took that away and made her a very controlling person. (Ahummm… that’s my own epiphany.) It’s through the course of the book, and all the other players, that she learns to open herself up to live a full life. I think she also learns to be a big sister again and not the parental figure she took on.

In what ways is Parker like you? In what ways is she different?

She learned to let go, I still can’t do that.

She fell in love… That’s not me.

She had a privileged childhood with tons of options… Not me.

Parker fought to keep her home and make it right to live in it. I fought to keep my home and make it right to sell it. After so many years and so many struggles, it just wasn’t the peaceful place it once was. And with an empty nest and no Colin there to give it meaning, I needed to let go and start new.

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Summary

When a wildfire nearly destroys Parker Sinclair’s family home, it’s just one more disaster to add to her mountain of stress. For the past two years, she has shouldered the responsibility of raising her younger brother and sister after their parents’ untimely deaths. Forced to leave college for a crappy job that barely pays the bills, Parker manages her family property, which consumes every aspect of her life. Now winter is coming and the forecast isn’t spreading sunshine on the dark cloud over her head. The last thing Parker needs is a mudslide destroying everything she has worked so hard to maintain.

Colin Hudson’s job as a public works supervisor is to protect Parker’s property and neighborhood from further damage. But it’s a little hard when the owner of the land is a control freak who tries to do everything herself. The hardworking, attractive young woman is far from the “hot mess” she claims to be. In fact, her tight grip of control is one of the things that attract him the most. It’s also the hardest to crack. Now Colin’s working overtime to help Parker open up her heart, trust him, and let him in.

As Parker and Colin work together to keep her home and neighborhood safe, they may be in for another disaster. Or they may just realize that sometimes it takes destruction to create something new.

About the Title

Title: My Way To You

Author: Catherine Bybee

Release Date: March 10, 2020

Publisher: Montlake

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

MY WAY TO YOU (Canyon Creek Series Book #1) by Catherine Bybee is the first book in a new contemporary romance series that is a powerful and engaging emotional read. I have enjoyed many books by this author, but this one grabbed me and would not let go.

Parker Sinclair had to grow up fast. Her parents were killed in an accident which meant she had to drop out of college and return home to finish raising her two younger siblings. After two years of a job that barely pays the bills, Parker is managing to keep the family property up in Canyon Creek, but it takes everything out of her.

When a wildfire strikes and burns all of the outbuildings and vegetation on the surrounding hills, Parker knows she is lucky to have had the house survive, but now with the rainy season coming Parker has to worry about mudslides that can destroy everything she has worked hard to save.

Colin Hudson is the county public works supervisor sent to evaluate Parker’s property for mud slides. He is struck by the tenacious and strong young woman shouldering such a large burden. Colin and Parker butt heads due to Parker not willing to give up control, but Colin is the is willing to work hard for Parker’s trust.

Can Parker and Colin work together to save her home and neighborhood?

I absolutely fell in love with Colin and the way he treated Parker. I know how hard it is to give up control even when you feel like you are drowning and I could relate with Parker. Ms. Bybee gave the couple witty banter and realistic dialogue. The sex scenes were explicit, but not gratuitous and did not overshadow the tenderness of the romance. I will be thinking of these two H/h’s for a long time to come. This story also has a third major character in Mother Nature and the destruction that she can bring. All the secondary characters are fully fleshed and are completely believable.

I highly recommend this emotional contemporary romance! I am now anxiously waiting for more books in this series.

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Excerpt: My Way To You by Catherine Bybee

“Excuse me?”

Parker turned toward the sound of the male voice and brushed aside hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. The sun glared in her eyes, making it difficult to get a clear picture of the man standing on the other side of her gate.

“Hello,” she greeted him.

“Do you live here?”

Probably a neighbor, she thought to herself. They’d shown up constantly after the fire to see how close the flames had actually come to their homes. Many of them invited themselves in without knocking. That was until she paid to have someone come in and fix the broken gate and stop the trespassers.

“I would hope so,” she said, waving the pruner in her hands. “I don’t think I would take this job for actual money.” The closer she got to the gate, the better the features of the man came into focus. He stood at least three inches taller than her, no easy task when she was five nine. Broad shoulders and arms that didn’t look like they slaved in an office all day. He wore jeans. It had to be over a hundred degrees, and the man wore jeans.

And filled them out nicely, if she wasn’t too tired to notice.

Parker forced her gaze back to his face, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses; his thick brown hair wasn’t covered by a hat.

She stopped in front of him, the gate to the property a clear division. The intense set of his jaw softened slightly. “Is your, ah … husband here?”

Three years ago, in a bar … or while out with friends, she would have instantly denied a lack of a husband. Out here, with a stranger … even an attractive one standing at her front door, she wasn’t about to correct him. “Who’s asking?”

The man’s smile fell and he quickly removed his sunglasses. “I’m sorry. My name is Colin Hudson. Colin to my friends.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Hudson?” She wasn’t about to call him by his first name.

“I work with the Public Works Department and wanted to see if you’d let me take a quick look at the wash that runs through your property.” He reached into his back pocket and removed his wallet. Out came a business card that he handed her through the bars of the iron gate.

She had to move close enough to take the card, but retreated once she had it in her fingertips.

He instantly shoved his hands in his front pockets and took a step back.

The card looked legit. Parker reminded herself that anyone with a computer could make a business card. “Does your department work on Saturdays, Mr. Hudson?”

“All the time.”

She peered beyond the gate, didn’t see a car. “Did you walk here?”

Mr. Hudson looked over his shoulder, pointed his thumb down the street. “I have a company truck. I parked around the corner.”

“Ah-huh.” She wanted to believe him. His caramel brown eyes looked kind enough. “Even Ted Bundy was good-looking,” she said loud enough for him to hear.

Parker looked up to find him staring, his mouth gaped open. “That’s a first.”

“Sorry.” Not sorry. “By-product of being a lone woman on a large piece of property with a stranger asking to come in. Business card aside, you could be anyone.”

He lifted his hands in the air. “Very wise. I hope my sister would do the same. I was just hoping to get an eye on the canyon before Monday’s meeting. But I can wait.”

She relaxed her grip on the tree pruner. “What meeting?”

“The city and county are meeting to discuss the concerns of the watershed after the fire. We’re developing a plan to preserve property during the winter. If I could take a quick look it would help.”

“You mean prevent mudslides?”

“Control mudslides,” he corrected her.

She shifted from foot to foot. “You can do that?”

“It’s a big part of our job.” He smiled, looked over her shoulder. “I can wait. I don’t want to make you uneasy.”

Parker looked back toward the house. “Tell you what. You go get your company truck and I’ll grab a snake fork and show you the wash.”

His eyes narrowed with an unasked question.

“It’s summer. Rattlesnakes are a thing,” she explained.

“You sure?”

Yeah, she was sure. “I’ll open the gate. You can park inside.”

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About the Author

New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Catherine Bybee has written thirty-four books that have collectively sold more than seven million copies and have been translated into more than eighteen languages. Raised in Washington State, Bybee moved to Southern California in the hope of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full-time and has penned the Not Quite series, the Weekday Brides series, the Most Likely To series, and the First Wives series. For more information on the author, visit www.catherinebybee.com.

Social Media Links

Website: http://www.catherinebybee.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCatherineBybee

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/catherinebybee/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/catherine-bybee

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Catherine-Bybee/e/B002UL11RS/

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