Tuesday, April 13, 2021

BLOG TOUR: SUMMERTIME GUESTS


SUMMERTIME GUESTS

Author: Wendy Francis

ISBN: 9781525895982

Publication Date: April 6, 2021

Publisher: Graydon House Books


Book Summary:

Sip cocktails in the lounge, bask in the summer sun by the pool, and experience the drama of the rich and famous firsthand in Wendy Francis’s newest novel, SUMMERTIME GUESTS (Graydon House; April 6, 2021; $16.99 USD). With its rich history and famous guests, The Seafarer is no stranger to drama. But the bustle at the social hotspot reaches new heights one weekend in mid-June when a woman falls tragically to her death from the tenth floor, unwittingly intertwining her life with the lives of the hotels’ guests and staff.

Claire O’Dell, reeling from the loss of her husband and possibly her job, has gone to The Seafarer for a little vacation…and to reconnect with a long-lost-love.  Jean-Paul, the hotel’s manager, is struggling to keep his marriage and new family afloat. Bride-to-be Riley is at the hotel to plan her wedding with her fiancé ... or, she’s at the hotel with her fiancé while her mother-in-law tells them how to plan their wedding. Jason, whose romantic getaway with his girlfriend has not exactly gone the way he'd hoped and instead has him facing questions about his past that he can't bring himself to answer.

As their truths and secrets come to light, the lives of these four will collide in tragic, beautiful ways none of them could have expected that will teach them about the love they deserve and the strength they possess to change their lives for the better.


Buy Links: 

Harlequin 

Barnes & Noble

Amazon

Books-A-Million

Powell’s





Excerpt:


Friday June 11th, 2021


ONE



It wasn’t as if Riley could have anticipated what would happen later that day. None of them could. Because when you’re at a tasting for your wedding reception at one of Boston’s ritziest hotels, trying to decide between crab cakes or lobster quiches, no one thinks of anything bad happening. Or at least, this is what Riley tells herself later. Why she—and no one else there—could possibly be to blame.

At the moment, though, Riley is sitting at a table by the window, half-listening to her future mother-in-law while she sips gazpacho the color of marigolds. Something about wanting to know if the outdoor terrace can be transformed into a dance floor, assuming the weather cooperates. If Riley were asked to gauge her interest in planning her own wedding, she would characterize it as mild at best. Her only requirement being that she and Tom marry in July—and that the flowers are pale pink peonies from Smart Stems, the shop where she has worked for the past three years.

It was Tom who’d suggested the Seaport District for their reception, Boston’s new up-and-coming neighborhood, and Riley had happily agreed. It’s an easy spot for guests to travel to, and the setting is over-the-top gorgeous with views of both the city and the water. Not to mention the promise of fresh seafood—an almost impossible request if they were to wed in Riley’s hometown of Lansing, Michigan, where everything remains hopelessly landlocked.

But she hadn’t counted on Tom’s mother wanting to be so, well, involved. Maybe it’s the fact that Riley’s own mother passed away a few short years ago, and so Marilyn feels compelled to step up and fill her mother’s shoes. A retired schoolteacher, her mother-in-law-to-be still tackles each new day with the necessary energy for a classroom of boisterous second-graders, a gusto which she now seems to be funneling into her son’s nuptials. At first, Riley was grateful, but while she sits listening to the hotel’s wedding coordinator drone on about the Seafarer’s rich history, she’s beginning to feel as though she has stepped into one of those horrible, never-ending lines at Disney for a ride she doesn’t particularly want to go on.

Riley is well aware that the Seafarer is one of the most coveted venues for weddings, especially in light of its recent renovations. It’s no secret that New England’s most glamorous, its most fashionable clamor to stay here and that the Seafarer’s well-appointed rooms are typically booked months in advance. She should be grateful that they’re even considering it as an option. Rumor has it that everyone from Winston Churchill to Taylor Swift has been a guest (as the saying goes, if you want to appear in the society pages of the Boston Globe, then spend a few hours at the Seafarer’s exclusive summer cocktail hour from four to six). As for out-of-towners hoping to take in the full scene that Boston can be—with its attendant snobbishness and goodwill and weird accents wrapped into one—the Seafarer, Riley understands, puts you in the heart of it.

Not that she has anything against tradition, but if it were up to her alone, she would probably choose a smaller, more modest setting, a wedding with no more than fifty guests. There’d be a justice of the peace and rows of white chairs lining the harbor, the wind whipping her veil in front of her face. Naturally, she’d want a reception afterward, but Riley counts herself as the type of girl who’d be equally content with trays of fish tacos and margaritas under a tent as with oysters on the half shell served in a tony hotel restaurant.

“I can’t reveal everyone,” the coordinator is saying in hushed tones, “but it’s no secret that some of Boston’s greatest legends have celebrated their nuptials with us.” Riley shoots Tom a sideways glance, as if to say Is she for real? but her fiancé’s chin rests firmly in his hand, his attention rapt. He’s eating up every word.

“Well, Gillian, it’s all very impressive,” Tom’s mother says, slipping her reading glasses back into her pocketbook after a review of the menu. Her hair is pulled back in a severe ponytail, her lips coated in her trademark color, fuchsia. “It’s no wonder Boston’s finest flock here for their special occasions. The view alone is to die for.” She gestures toward the expanse of crystalline water out the window, the romantic outline of the city’s financial district in the distance. “Kids, wouldn’t it be something to come back here every year to toast your anniversary?”

Marilyn shoots Riley a wink, as if the two of them are in cahoots to convince Tom that this is the spot, meant to be. There’s no need to point out that she and Tom could never afford such a venue. They already discussed it over dinner the other night when Marilyn revealed that she’d gone ahead and booked an appointment for a tasting at the Seafarer on Friday and how she hoped Riley wouldn’t mind. “I don’t want you to worry about money, dear,” she instructed. “Tom’s dad and I would be honored to host. Tom is our only child after all.”

And Riley had breathed a tiny sigh of relief while swallowing her pride. Not because she wants an extravagant wedding but because it means that she and Tom can now channel the nest egg they’ve been building toward a mortgage on a new home instead of toward an elaborate one-day celebration. It’s a much more sensible use of their money, and Riley, having grown up poor verging on destitute, is nothing if not sensible.

Can she really imagine herself celebrating her marriage here, though? Tom keeps missing her not-so-thinly veiled comments about the food on the menu, which leans toward the bite-size variety that he hates (precisely because it never fills him up), but he has said nothing. Maybe he’s just being polite. Riley quickly scans the room for other future newlyweds, but most of today’s diners appear to be here for business lunches—buttoned-up men in suits and women in sharp blazers with silk shifts underneath. A few couples, perhaps away for a romantic long weekend, and a group of older women sharing a bottle of wine, sit wedged into the corners. It’s a lovely space, but is it too lovely?

She shifts in her seat and tries to picture her dad here, wearing his familiar old sports coat that’s nearly worn through at the elbows, his khaki pants and penny loafers, pretending to feel comfortable when he wouldn’t know which fork to reach for, which glass to use.

When Marilyn turns toward to her and says, “Don’t you agree, Riley?” Riley feels her cheeks flushing because she hasn’t been paying attention. She has no idea what her future mother-in-law is referring to.

“I’m sorry. What was the question again?” She’s slightly annoyed that Tom can’t—or won’t—decide on a few things himself or at the very least rein his mother in. Especially because they talked about this very thing—not letting Marilyn take over the tasting—last night! They’re discussing the appetizers, apparently, and all Riley knows is that she doesn’t want crudités. If there’s one rule she’s abiding by, it’s that her wedding menu will include only those foods that she can pronounce.

It seems there should be a box on a list that they can check for the Standard Reception—something not overtly cheap but not insanely expensive, either. Tom squeezes her knee beneath the table, though it’s unclear if it’s meant as encouragement or as a reprimand for her not giving this conversation one hundred percent. What Riley really wants to know is this: How can she avoid attending any more tastings with Marilyn? Should she just agree to the Seafarer right now and be done with it?

“Mom was wondering,” Tom says in complete seriousness, “if you thought it would be better to have cold and hot hors d’oeuvres or just cold since the wedding will be in July?”

“Oh, right.” Riley pretends to consider her options. “Good point. It’s bound to be hot, so I wonder—”

But somewhere between the words so and wonder, a loud whistle of air followed by a deafening blast socks through the room like a fist, sending Riley to grab the table and Tom to reach for her hand. Marilyn’s fork drops from her elongated fingers, clattering onto her plate, and the room seems to shake for a brief moment. There are shouts followed by an eerie hush while the dining room settles back into itself. Riley watches the other diners who begin to mumble to each other across their tables, asking if they’re okay and spinning in their seats to better determine the source of the blast. The woman at the adjacent table hovers on the edge of her chair, as if considering diving underneath the table.

When Riley glances over at Gillian, she looks equally alarmed and as surprised as the rest of them, which means this isn’t some kind of bizarre emergency testing by the hotel. Whatever they heard was real. Significant. Riley’s eyes slide toward Tom, then Marilyn, whose face has turned a shade as pale as milk, then back to Tom.

“What on earth was that?” Marilyn gasps, her voice an octave too high, her fingers fluttering to her necklace. It’s a silver chain studded with azure stones, the kind of jewelry that Riley has come to associate with women of a certain age.

“I’m not sure.” Gillian’s voice cracks. “It almost sounded like some kind of explosion, didn’t it?” And then, as if remembering her wedding-coordinator cap, she rushes to reassure them. “But I’m sure it’s nothing like that. Maybe a blown transformer?

But both Riley and Tom exchange glances because no matter how ill-versed they are in loud noises, that definitely was not a transformer. It wasn’t so much a popping sound as a crash, she thinks. Did the massive chandelier in the lobby fall? Did it come from the kitchen? Construction work outside maybe? It’s hard to tell.

“Not to be overly dramatic, but it almost felt like an earthquake,” Riley says. “The table actually shook, I think.” And although she understands that the curiosity sparked inside her is somehow inappropriate, she wants an explanation. “Whatever it was,” she says, lowering her voice, “it sounded awfully close.”

“Yes, very close,” Marilyn agrees, still fiddling with her necklace.

And that’s when the screams begin. Not from the kitchen at the back of the restaurant, not from the lobby, but from outside, just beyond the elegant bay windows peering out onto the terrace that fronts the water, the ocean seemingly close enough to dip a hand into. Riley’s glance swivels toward the small crowd that’s beginning to form outside near the firepit and hot tub.

“If you’ll excuse me?” Gillian says, as if emerging from a fog, and rises awkwardly to her feet before heading toward the row of windows.

Riley’s gaze follows her, and suddenly, she, too, feels compelled to get up, as if an invisible string tugs her toward the window. She hurries forward and angles around Gillian for a better view. But when she does, she immediately regrets her decision. Because it’s not a collapsed scaffolding or an awning or even construction work that has caused the sudden shaking, the loud blast.

But a woman, lying facedown on the terrace, several yards beyond the window.

The body lies completely still, the woman’s legs scissored like a rag doll’s, her left leg angled upward awkwardly. A curtain of muddy blond hair shields her face from view. Riley watches while a few bystanders move hesitantly toward the woman, as if afraid of startling her, until someone kneels down and grasps her wrist, presumably to check for a pulse. A man in blue running shorts and a Red Sox T-shirt yells for someone to call 9-1-1.

To Riley, it looks as if the woman was perhaps reaching for a glass that slipped from her hand, her arms still outstretched above her head. Her body is long, lean, even elegant. Riley holds her breath, waiting, and feels Gillian stiffen beside her when a youngish man, nicely tanned and formally dressed, parts the crowd and gently encourages everyone to take a few steps back. He assures them that an ambulance is on the way and speaks with an authority that suggests his importance.

“That’s Jean-Paul, our manager,” Gillian says quietly as they watch him crouch down next to the woman and brush her hair away from her face.

Just then, a young man in the crowd throws his hand to his mouth and rushes off, and Riley stands on her tiptoes for a better view. And that’s when she sees it, too—the wild splash of bright red she hadn’t noticed earlier that lies at the far edge of the woman’s hair. And in that awful moment, Riley—and everyone else watching—understands. An image of a woman in her yellow summer dress, cartwheeling through the air from somewhere up high, perhaps her hotel balcony, spirals through her mind.

“Oh, my God.” It hits her all at once, a hollow pit forming in her stomach.

“Jesus,” says Tom, who has come up beside her to rest a hand on her shoulder. “She’s not moving.”

“No.”

It’s obvious to them both, but somehow still needs to be said, as if by acknowledging it aloud, the woman might hear their words through the open window, might somehow will herself to move an inch, if only to give them a sign—a flutter of a hand, the shifting of a foot—that she’s going to be all right.

But her body remains completely, horribly still.



Excerpted from Summertime Guests by Wendy Francis, Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Francis

Published by Graydon House Books



Social Links:

Author Website

Twitter: @wendyfrancis4

Instagram: @wendyfrancisauthor

Facebook: @wendyfrancisauthor

Goodreads


Author Bio: 


Wendy Francis is a former book editor and the author of the novels The Summer Sail, The Summer of Good Intentions, Three Good Things, and Best Behavior. Her essays have appeared in Good Housekeeping, The Washington Post, Yahoo Parenting, The Huffington Post, and WBUR's Cognoscenti. A proud stepmom of two grown-up children, she lives outside Boston with her husband and eleven-year-old son.


Wednesday, April 07, 2021

COVER REVEAL: BENEATH THE WRECKAGE

 

Beneath the Wreckage, an all-new moving and captivating standalone romance from bestselling author Catherine Cowles is coming September 21st, and we have the gorgeous cover!

It was supposed to be a summer we’d never forget.
Instead, everything was stolen from me.
The best friend who was more like a sister. The innocent way I looked at life.
Leaving me with only unanswered questions.

Returning to the island is the second chance I didn’t know I needed.
And Hunter is the surprise that knocks me sideways.

There’s a hurt in him that calls to my own.
A strength I find in sharing our scars.
Igniting a spark that turns to flame.

But someone isn’t happy about the world I’m building for myself.
And nothing will stop them from tearing it all apart…

Pre-order your copy today!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/39IaCyA
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/BeneathWreckage
Apple Books: http://apple.co/3rjuZYZ
Nook: http://bit.ly/3aobVSk
Kobo: http://bit.ly/3rb675E

Add Beneath the Wreckage to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3aqCtm6

Cover Designer: Hang Le

Enter the Cover Reveal Giveaway: https://bit.ly/3wzYyJk

About Catherine Cowles
Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she's not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.

Connect with Catherine
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2IEQXSw
Facebook: http://bit.ly/2Lc4mU0
Twitter: https://twitter.com/catherinecowles
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Website: https://www.catherinecowles.com/
Stay up to date with Catherine by joining her mail list:
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Tuesday, April 06, 2021

THE SORCERESS QUEEN AND THE PIRATE ROGUE COVER REVEAL


The Sorceress Queen and the Pirate Rogue

Book Two in the adult Fantasy Romance adventure series from award-winning, bestselling author Jeffe Kennedy. Follows the prequel novella, The Long Night of the Crystalline Moon, in the Under a Winter Sky romantic fantasy holiday anthology and Book One, The Golden Gryphon and the Bear Prince.

A Lonely Road

Stella has always been one to count her blessings. Empath, sorceress, shapeshifter, and healer, she’s grateful for the gifts the goddess of shadows has bestowed on her. Yes, she’s sensitive to emotions and can’t bear to be in large crowds for long. She’ll never be able to take a lover as she’s unable to withstand physical contact with anyone but her twin brother. Now that he’s found his true love, she feels more alone than ever. None of it haunts her, however, like the vision of the lonely tower where her life path ends. 

An Unrequited Love

Jak is a man of simple tastes: good whiskey, some coin in his pocket, and a fine blade in his hand. Though he’s no prince, not a shapeshifter, and not blessed with any magic, he’s happy in his skin. And yet he seems doomed to live the life of a hero from a tragic ballad, because the only woman he’s ever wanted barely knows he’s alive. As much as Jak longs for Stella, he’s resigned himself to being forever in the background. At least he can guard her back. 

A Quest to Stop a Monster 

But now Jak and Stella have been thrown together—along with a mismatched group of shifters, warriors, and sorceress friends—struggling to battle magic rifts that release monsters into their world. Worse, the strange intelligence behind the bizarre and deadly attacks seems to have developed a fascination for Stella. Battling for their lives and the good of the realm, they fight together to alter the course of the future before it’s too late.

Cover Reveal originally posted at Frolic on April 5, 2021

Releasing April 19, 2021

buy links:

https://jeffekennedy.com/the-sorceress-queen-and-the-pirate-rogue


Thursday, April 01, 2021

Knit, Purl, a Baby and a Girl


 Title: Knit, Purl, a Baby and a Girl

Author: Hettie Bell

Imprint: Carina Press (Carina Adores)

Genre: Contemporary Romance, New Adult

Romantic Leads: Female/Female

On-Sale: March 30, 2021

Format: Trade Paperback

Price: $14.99 US

ISBN: 9781335688002

Book Description: Some people can’t wait to have babies. They’re ready for it—with their perfect lives and their pregnancy glow…


Poppy Adams doesn’t have a perfect life, and she wasn’t ready for the positive test. An unexpected baby—Poppy’s unexpected baby—won’t exactly have her family doing cartwheels. But she’s making the right choice.


Right?


Poppy’s totally got this. She just needs a little encouragement, and a knitting group is the perfect place to start. Baby blankets, booties, tiny little hats—small steps toward her new life. But she feels like she’s already dropped a stitch when she discovers the knitting group is led by the charismatic Rhiannon.


It’s not exactly a great time to meet the woman who might just be the love of her life. While the group easily shuffles around to make room for Poppy, it’s not so easy fitting her life and Rhiannon’s together. With the weeks counting down until her baby arrives, Poppy’s going to have to decide for herself what truly makes a family.





Carina Adores is home to highly romantic contemporary love stories featuring beloved romance tropes, where LGBTQ+ characters find their happily-ever-afters.


A new Carina Adores title is available each month in trade paperback, ebook and audiobook formats.

  • The Hideaway Inn by Philip William Stover (available now!)
  • The Girl Next Door by Chelsea M. Cameron (available now!)
  • Just Like That by Cole McCade (available now!)
  • Hairpin Curves by Elia Winters (available now!)
  • The Love Study by Kris Ripper (available now!)
  • The Secret Ingredient by KD Fisher (available now!)
  • Just Like This by Cole McCade (available now!)
  • Teddy Spenser Isn’t Looking for Love by Kim Fielding (available now!)
  • Best Laid Plans by Roan Parrish (available now!)
  • The Hate Project by Kris Ripper (coming April 27)
  • Hard Sell by Hudson Lin (coming May 25)


Buy Knit, Purl, a Baby and a Girl by Hettie Bell

Harlequin.com: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335688002_knit-purl-a-baby-and-a-girl.html 

IndieBound: https://www.indiebound.org/book/9781335688002 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Knit-Purl-Baby-Carina-Adores/dp/1335688005 

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/knit-purl-a-baby-and-a-girl-hettie-bell/1138272514 

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/knit-purl-a-baby-and-a-girl/id1530373719 

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Hettie_Bell_Knit_Purl_a_Baby_and_a_Girl?id=jv76DwAAQBAJ 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/knit-purl-a-baby-and-a-girl 


Read on for an excerpt from Knit, Purl, a Baby and a Girl.


It doesn’t take long for everybody in the group to set aside their own projects to focus on me and mine.

Grace has my ball of yarn in her hands, twisting the strand between her fingers critically. “If you’re knitting for a baby, you should really consider a nice bamboo…”

Louise is scrutinizing my choice of project. “You know, I started with dishcloths, then graduated to scarves. It’s not as glamorous, but it does let you get the fundamentals down.”

“Oh, my, no.” Mary flips the free pattern card I picked up in the craft store and scans the back with critical eyes. “You don’t want to do this, this is for a completely different weight of yarn than what you’ve got here. Where did you pick this up? They should be putting these patterns next to the suggested yarn. This one calls for fingering. What 

you need to do is get an account on Ravelry and find a pattern that’s been user-rated so you know it’s accurate and suitable for your skill level, and do that. You can search by yarn weight on there, too. This yarn is a DK…” She pulls out her phone, trailing off as she opens her web browser.

Damian, who has been sitting silently so far, takes this chance to finally speak up. “Do you have needles?” he asks plainly, no judgment in his tone. Nobody else has bothered with that crucial detail to this point.

Now those, at least, I do have. I reach into my purse and pull out the needles I scavenged from my last failed scarf project. I hold them up for the group’s inspection proudly.

“Poppy, no!” they say in unison, and even Damian joins in their exclamation of dismay. “These will never work!”

My shoulders slump. “What? Why?”

Louise clucks at me. “Much too big! Too long for a tiny baby pattern and too thick for this yarn. You’re going to end up with stretched out knitting full of gaps and holes.”

The familiar urge to just give up and quit hits me hard and fast, like a gut punch. I gust out a breath, slumping in my seat.

A hand closes around my shoulder. Rhiannon. “Hey, don’t feel bad. First time I tried to knit, I got my needles secondhand from the thrift store and accidentally bought two different sizes.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Here. If you don’t mind that they’re not high-tech Addi Turbos, you can borrow some needles from me.”

“She needs a pattern first,” Mary puts in. “And personally I think she should start by knitting mittens before she graduates to booties.”

“I guess that sounds all right.” I know they’re just trying to help, but I feel overwhelmed and outnumbered. But what would the alternative be? For them to sit there focused on their own projects, socializing with each other and ignoring me as I struggle?

It’s Rhiannon, once again, who calms the chaos, both the stuff going on around us and the stuff in my head. “Okay, okay, give the girl some space, now. Mary, can you search Ravelry for a pattern for a set of mittens and booties? And Grace and Louise, can you wind Poppy’s skein real quick so she doesn’t get stuck untangling yarn barf on her very first project?” My fellow stitch n’ bitch members nod, immediately turning to their tasks. She turns to me. “I left my straight needles with the rest of my stuff back at my place. It’s just a short walk from here. You wanna come and keep me company?”

“You’ll need a size five needle by the looks,” Mary calls, eyes glued to her phone.

Rhiannon looks at me expectantly, awaiting my answer. I get the sense that if I said no to her invitation, she’d be totally cool about it. But I don’t want to say no.

“Sure, yeah. Can I leave my stuff here?”

“We’re not leaving any time soon,” Damian flaps a hand. “Go, go. Sooner you go the sooner you get back, sooner you get back the sooner you can get started, and the sooner you get started the more time you have knitting with people who can pick up your dropped stitches.”

“Gotcha.” I nod. “Thanks.”

“Ready?” Rhiannon asks. She grabs a cookie for the road, stuffing it halfway into her mouth and holding it there comically.

I fight down the sudden image of myself biting that half a cookie right out from under her nose.

Wow, do I need some air. And some semblance of hormonal balance.

Instead, I’m getting alone time with Rhiannon.

Crash and burn time, here I come.


Add Knit, Purl, a Baby and a Girl by Hettie Bell to Goodreads now!


Liza's Review:


Knit, Purl, a Baby and a Girl is the first book I've ready by Hettie Bell, though from my search on Goodreads I know she has written under another name. As with any book I pick up by a new to me author, I always go in hoping for the best, and I really was very happy I gave Knit, Purl, a Baby and a Girl a chance. I really loved Ms. Bell's voice in this first person POV story, as the entire book is from the main character, Poppy's point of view.

Poppy Adams finds herself pregnant after one night with her ex-boyfriend, and heads to Planned Parenthood to find out all her options and meets Rhiannon when she escorts Poppy in to the building. Poppy notices a flyer for the stitch n' bitch knitting group and decides that she can totally learn to knit and make her new baby all sorts of cute booties, hats, and blankets. The fact that Rhiannon is part of this knitting group only makes it better in Poppy's eyes. 

I liked the connection between Poppy and Rhiannon from the beginning. They had really wonderful chemistry and I liked that Rhiannon accepted Poppy just as she was, which is something her family really has never done. I did have issue with what I felt like was a lack of true communication between Poppy and Rhiannon, but as that can be an issue at times with any romance, I just figured they were trying to figure out things as they went along. 

I love the stitch n' bitch knitting group. Seriously had mad love for all the members and loved how they were so supportive of one another and any relationship the members were in. I loved that Poppy truly had real friends with this group, for sadly what seemed like the first time in her life.

I have to say Poppy's mother angered me repeatedly as I read this story. As in, I really wanted to smack this woman on the back of the head and tell her to get a clue about her child. Honestly, her sister wasn't really my favorite character for the longest time. I will say as Poppy and her sister spent more time together, I love they seemed to finally talk and have a real relationship finally.

Knit, Purl, a Baby and a Girl was a pretty funny story overall, even with some pretty dramatic subject matter at times. I love both Poppy and Rhiannon's humor, and especially enjoyed seeing Poppy grow so much over the course of this story. I really enjoyed Ms. Bell's voice in this story and look forward to reading more books from her in the future.

Rating: 4 Stars (B)
Review copy provided by publisher


About Hettie Bell

Hettie Bell grew up in small towns in New Brunswick and British Columbia, and now lives outside Edmonton Alberta with her family. She first fell for Highland historicals as a preteen, and that love deepened as the romance genre grew more diverse and queer. A proud bisexual woman, she’s honored to write all the happy endings she never thought she’d get to read. When she’s not writing, she's knitting one of the at least three projects she has on her needles at any given time.


Connect with Hettie Bell

Website: https://www.hettiebell.com/ 

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HettieBelleau 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5365291.Heidi_Belleau 


Tuesday, March 30, 2021

BACK IN THE BURBS RELEASE BLITZ

 

Back in the Burbs by Avery Flynn & Tracy Wolff is now live!

Ever have one of those days where life just plain sucks? Welcome to my last three months--ever since I caught my can't-be-soon-enough ex-husband cheating with his paralegal. I'm thirty-five years old, and I've lost my NYC apartment, my job, my money, and frankly, my dignity.

But the final heartache in the suck sandwich of my life? My great-aunt Maggie died. The only family member who's ever gotten me.

Even after death, though, she's helping me get back up. She's willed me the keys to a house in the burbs, of all places, and dared me to grab life by the family jewels. Well, I've got the vise grips already in hand (my ex should take note) and I'm ready to fight for my life again.

Too bad that bravado only lasts as long as it takes to drive into Huckleberry Hills. And see the house.

There are forty-seven separate HOA violations, and I feel them all in my bones. Honestly, I'm surprised no one's "accidentally" torched the house yet. I want to, and I've only been standing in front of it for five minutes. But then my hot, grumpy neighbor tells me to mow the lawn first and I'm just...done. Done with men too sexy for their own good and done with anyone telling me what to do.

First rule of surviving the burbs? There is nothing that YouTube and a glass of wine can't conquer.

Download today on Amazon, Apple Books, Kobo, Barnes & Noble!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Z2zlre

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Meet Avery


When Avery Flynn isn't writing about alpha heroes and the women who tame them, she is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. She has three slightly wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband, and has a slight shoe addiction. Find out more about Avery on her website, follow her on Twitter, like her on her Facebook page, or friend her on her Facebook profile. Also, if you figure out how to send Oreos through the internet, she'll be your best friend for life. Contact her at avery@averyflynn.com. She'd love to hear from you.

Connect with Avery

Website: http://averyflynn.com

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Meet Tracy

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Tracy Wolff is a lover of vampires, dragons, and all things that go bump in the night. A onetime English professor, she now devotes all her time to writing dark and romantic stories with tortured heroes and kick-butt heroines. She has written all her sixty-plus novels from her home in Austin, Texas, which she shares with her family.

Website: https://tracywolffauthor.com

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Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Tracy-Wolff/e/B001JSE918/

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Liza's Review:

Tracy Wolff and Avery Flynn have teamed up to give readers a laugh out loud sexy contemporary romance that had me crying at times I was laughing so much. There were plenty of drama along the way to keep your emotions jumping as well.


I really loved Mallory pretty much from page one and have to say I also had some mad love for grumpy neighbor Nick just as quickly. Mallory is pretty much at her lowest low as Back in the Burbs begins. She recently caught her husband cheating on her, she lost her job in his law firm, and had to move back in with her parents. When she learns her Aunt Maggie left her home to her, Mallory has big goals, and isn't prepared when she arrives, as the home is in major need of repairs, clean out, and HOA violations seem to be never ending.

Mallory is starting over when she moves to Huckleberry Hills. She needs to find a job and then a contractor to help get her new home back in shape. As no one in her family had been in her aunt's home in years, she wasn't prepared to the hoarding her aunt had in her home. That part of the story pretty much broke my heart. Her parents were aware that Maggie had hoarding tendencies, yet hadn't checked on her at all. While Mallory had every right to be completely overwhelmed, I love that as she cleaned out her aunt's home, she had so many fond memories of her aunt as she cleaned out each new room.

Nick aka grumpy neighbor actually ended up being one of my favorite characters in this book. I loved that he was actually friends with Maggie and did all in his power to help her out and take care of her when she was his neighbor. I really loved that Nick and Mallory had some pretty great chemistry from the very first time they met, even if they didn't start off as friends. Part of that was Mallory having trust issues due to how her ex treated her. I really liked that Nick was there to help Mallory along the way with the house, finding her an attorney to battle her ex, and even finding her a perfect job. When Nick and Mallory finally made love for the first time, I had all the happy feels. Their differences and strengths made them such a great couple. My only real problem with this story was Malloy comparing Nick to her ex for way too long. Nick really did go out of his way to take things slow so Mallory would feel comfortable and help her in any way needed. As he was absolutely nothing like her ex, other than also being an attorney, Mallory really made me mad when she compared Nick to her asshat ex. 

Back in the Burbs kept me glued to the page pretty much from the moment I picked it up. I don't know about everyone else, but my reading has taken a huge hit since the start of the pandemic. The fact that I pretty much read this book in one day was huge for me, and a testament to this wonderful story. Thank you to both Tracy Wolff and Avery Flynn for giving me the wonderful rom-con in Back in the Burbs!


Rating: 4 Stars (B+)
Review copy provided by publisher