Spotlight: Excerpt from The Booklover's Library by Madeline Martin

By Madeline Martin
On Sale: September 10, 2024
ISBN: 9781335000392
Hanover Square Press Paperback Original 
Price: $18.99

A heartwarming story about a mother and daughter in wartime England and the power of books that bring them together, by the bestselling author of The Last Bookshop in London.
In Nottingham, England, widow Emma Taylor finds herself in desperate need of a job. She and her beloved daughter Olivia have always managed just fine on their own, but with the legal restrictions prohibiting widows with children from most employment opportunities, she’s left with only one option: persuading the manageress at Boots’ Booklover’s Library to take a chance on her with a job.
When the threat of war in England becomes a reality, Olivia must be evacuated to the countryside. In the wake of being separated from her daughter, Emma seeks solace in the unlikely friendships she forms with her neighbors and coworkers, and a renewed sense of purpose through the recommendations she provides to the library’s quirky regulars. But the job doesn’t come without its difficulties. Books are mysteriously misshelved and disappearing and the work at the lending library forces her to confront the memories of her late father and the bookstore they once owned together before a terrible accident.
As the Blitz intensifies in Nottingham and Emma fights to reunite with her daughter, she must learn to depend on her community and the power of literature more than ever to find hope in the darkest of times.

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Excerpt:

PROLOGUE

Nottingham, England April 1931

JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER. Emma lingered in the storage area on the second floor of her father’s bookshop, Tower Bookshop, with Jane Austen’s Emma cradled in her lap. Sadly, not her namesake—her parents had named her Emmaline for an aunt she’d never met, who had died on Emma’s seventh birthday ten years ago.

Still, the book was one of Emma’s favorites.

“Emma.” Papa’s voice rose from somewhere in the bookshop, sharp with irritation.

She frowned. Papa was seldom ever cross with her.

Perhaps the smoke from the man who had come in with his cigar earlier still lingered in the shop.

She settled a scrap of paper into the spine of her book.

“Emmaline!” Something to that second cry snapped her to attention, a raw, frantic pitch.

Papa was never panicked.

She leaped up from the seat with such haste, the book dropped to the ground with a whump.

“I’m in the warehouse,” she called out, racing to the door.

The handle was scalding hot. She yelped and drew back. That’s when she saw the smoke, wisps seeping beneath the door, glowing in the stream of sunlight. 

Fire.

She put her skirt over her hand and twisted the knob to open the door. Thick plumes of smoke billowed in, black and choking.

She sucked in a breath of surprise, unintentionally inhaling a lungful of burning air. A cough racked her and she stumbled back, her mind reeling as her feet pulled her from the threat.

But to where? This was the only exit from the storeroom, save the second-floor window.

“Papa,” she shouted, terror creeping into her voice.

All at once, he was there, wrapping a blanket around them, the one she kept in the shop for cold mornings before the furnace managed to heat the old building.

“Stay at my side.” Papa’s voice was gravelly beneath the blanket where he’d covered the lower part of his face. Even as he led her away, a great cough shuddered through his lean frame.

Beyond the wall of smoke was a vision straight out of Milton’s Paradise Lost as fire licked and climbed its way up the towering stacks of books, devouring a lifetime of careful curation. Emma screamed, the sound muted by the blanket.

But Papa’s hand was firm at her back, pressing her forward. “We have to run.” Not slowing, he guided her to the winding metal staircase. She used to love clattering down it as a girl, hearing the metal ringing around her.

“It’s hot,” Papa cautioned. “Don’t touch it.”

Emma hugged against his side as they squeezed down the narrow steps that barely fit the two of them together. It swayed beneath their weight, no longer sturdy as it had once been. The blazing heat felt as though it was blistering Emma’s skin. Too hot. Too close. Too much.

And they were plunging deeper into the fiery depths.

The soles of Emma’s shoes stuck to the last two steps as rubber melted against metal.

What had once been rows of bookshelves was now a maze of flames. Even Papa hesitated before the seemingly impassable blaze.

But there was nowhere else to go.

The fire was alive. Cracking and popping and hissing and roaring, roaring, roaring so loud, it seemed like an actual beast.

“Go,” he shouted, and his grip tightened around her, pulling her forward.

Together they ran, between columns of fire that had once been shelves of books. An ear-shattering crack came from above, spurring them to the front as fire and sparks poured down behind them.

Emma ran faster than she ever had before, faster than she knew herself capable. Papa’s arm at her side yanked her this way or that, navigating through the fiery chaos. Until there was nowhere to go.

Papa roared louder than the fire beast and released her, running toward the blazing door. It flew open at the impact, revealing clean sunny daylight outside. He turned toward her even as she rushed after him and grabbed her around the shoulders, hauling her into the street.

Emma gulped in the clean air, reveling in the cool dampness washing into her tortured lungs. A crowd had gathered, staring up at the Tower Bookshop. Some came to Emma and Papa, asking in a frenzy of voices if they were hurt.

In the distance came the scream of emergency sirens. Sirens Emma had heard her entire life, but had never once needed herself.

There was need now. She held on to Papa’s hand and looked behind her at the building that had been in her family for two generations and was meant to become hers someday. Her gaze skimmed over the bookshop to the top two floors where their home had once been.

The fire beast gave a great heaving howl and the top floor crumpled.

Someone grabbed her from behind, dragging her back as the rest of the structure came down, ripping her hand from her father’s. She didn’t reach for him again, unable to move, unable to think, her eyes fixed on the building as it crashed in on itself in a fiery heap. Their livelihood. Their home.

All the pictures of her mother who had died after Emma was born, all the books she and her father had lovingly selected from bookshops around England on the trips they’d taken together, everything they’d ever owned.

Gone.

Emma choked on a sob at the realization.

Everything was gone.

“We need a doctor.” A man’s voice broke through her horror, pulling her attention to her father.

He lay on the ground, motionless. Soot streaked his handsome slender face, and his thick gray hair that had once been the same shade of chestnut as hers was now singed in blackened tufts.

“Papa?” She sagged to the ground beside him.

His eyes lifted to her, watery blue and filled with a love that made her heart swell. The breath wheezed from his chest like a kettle’s cry. “You’re safe.”

Once the words left his mouth, his body relaxed, going slack.

“Papa?” Emma cried.

This time his eyes did not meet hers. They looked through her. Sightless and empty.

She shuddered at how unnatural he appeared. Like her father, and yet not like her father.

“Papa?”

The wailing sirens were still too far-off.

“I’m a doctor.” A man knelt on the other side of her father. His fingers went to Papa’s blackened neck and the man’s sad brown eyes turned up to her.

“I’m sorry, love. He’s gone.”

Emma stared at the man, refusing to believe her ears even as she saw the truth.

It had always just been Emma and her father, the two of them against the world, as Papa used to say. They read the same books to discuss together, they worked every day at the bookshop together, friends and colleagues as much as they were father and daughter. Once Emma had completed her schooling, she’d even traveled with him, curating books like the first editions they were still waiting on to arrive from Newcastle.

Now that beautiful light that shone in his eyes had dulled. Lifeless.

It was no longer Papa and her against the world.

He was gone.

Their shop was gone.

Their home was gone.

Everything she knew and loved was gone.

Excerpted from THE BOOKLOVER’S LIBRARY by Madeline Martin, Copyright © 2024 by Madeline Martin. Published by arrangement with HTP Books, a Division of HarperCollins.

About the Author:

Madeline Martin is a New York Times, USA Today, and internationally bestselling author of historical fiction and historical romance with books that have been translated into over twenty-five different languages.

Social Links:

Author Website: https://madelinemartin.com/ 

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MadelineMMartin 

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/12062937.Madeline_Martin 

Review: The Body Next Door by Maia Chance

Author: Maia Chance
Publisher: MIRA
Publication Date: August 2024

Hannah McCollough’s life is far from perfect, but you’d never know it by looking at her. Instead, you’d see a beautiful young mother wholly devoted to her two children and a docile wife utterly besotted with her self-made millionaire husband, Allan. You’d see the designer clothes she wears, the luxury car she drives, the dewy-eyed au pair she employs.

You wouldn’t see the dark secret she carries.

But when a construction crew unearths the body of a young girl near the McCulloughs’ vacation home on Orcas Island, Hannah has no choice but to confront her past. She wonders how much Allan knows about the victim and the apocalyptic cult she was connected to. Meanwhile, Allan can’t seem to understand why his beautiful young bride, as polished and pristine as the collectible artifacts in his glass case, would threaten their fairy-tale lifestyle by digging too deep, in places she knows she shouldn’t.

As the police investigation into the gruesome discovery deepens, the facade of Hannah’s picture-perfect marriage starts to crumble, and she soon finds herself on a dire hunt for answers. And Hannah’s search takes an unexpected turn after she crosses paths with three strangers with shocking secrets of their own.

The Body Next Door really is a book you are better off going into not knowing much.  The story goes between present and past and at first seems to be two different storylines.  Everyone in the present day has a secret.  And when a body is found near Hannah and Allan's vacation home, the secrets begin to come out. 

I did enjoy this one.  It started out kind of slow and took a bit before all of the threads started to be connected. However, the payoff for a slower start was worth it. Ultimately it went in a direction I was not expecting. While there were some surprises, but I did guess one of the major ones. There does need to be a little bit of suspension of belief while reading this one though, so keep that in mind.  I won't say much more so I don't spoil things.  I do recommend this one.

Throwback Thursday Review: Run For Your Life by Andrea Kane

Author: Andrea Kane

Publisher: Pocket Books
Publication Date: November 2000

High-powered attorney Victoria Kensington knows how to protect herself. In fact, she's spent her whole life protecting her vulnerable sister, Audrey, from their stern father's disapproval. But when Audrey, who's supposed to be painting in Venice, collapses at Victoria's feet in Central Park dressed only in a hospital gown, Victoria doesn't know what to think. And when Audrey disappears without a trace, Victoria will do anything to find out what has happened to her sister, even if it means allowing FBI associate Zachary Hamilton, the only man she's ever loved, back into her life--and her heart. Even if it means finding out her father knows a whole lot more than he's letting on, Victoria will let nothing stop her from saving Audrey. But when Victoria has several close calls, Zach insists on sticking close to her, really close. Will Victoria find a second chance at having the kind of family she always wanted and maybe even a second chance at love?

 Run For Your Life is an older book by this author.  I have read most of her books, so I'm not sure how I missed it. The story opens with Victoria out for a jog when her sister, Audrey shows up in Central Park in a hospital gown and collapsing at her feet.  Only to disappear when Victoria goes for help.  The biggest problem is that Audrey is supposed to be out of the country.  She decides she must allow a former lover to help her find out what happened to Audrey.

 I did ultimately enjoy this one.  I liked the second chance at romance between Victoria and Zachary.  Time and maturity helped them work out their issues. For me, the romance was the better part of the book. Being almost 24 years old, the book is a little dated, but it didn't take away form the enjoyment of the story.  The mystery was OK.  I did call a major part of the reveal early on as it was really obvious.  Despite that, the story is fast paced and kept up my interest.  I would recommend this throwback.

Review: You'll Never Find Me by Allison Brennan

Author: Allison Brennan
Publisher: MIRA
Publication Date: June 2024

Working alone as a private investigator is tough. Estranged from her PI family, Margo Angelhart does what she must to get by—including taking on sordid cases that pay the bills, even if she’d rather be helping those the justice system has failed.

That is, until a cheating husband case she’s working intersects with her siblings’ corporate espionage investigation, forcing Margo to cooperate with the Angelhart firm. Now, as the siblings compare notes, it’s clear they need to work together before a white-collar crime escalates to murder.

With far more questions than answers and a key suspect on the run, they’ll need the whole family to pitch in. But as they investigate the ever-twisting mystery, Margo isn’t sharing everything. Can she learn to trust her family and heal their once-close relationship before her secrets put those she loves most in danger?

You'll Never Find Me is the first book in the new Angelhart Investigations series.  We are introduced to Margo, a private investigator who is estranged from the family business.  Her most recent case ends up intersecting with a case her siblings' firm is working on.  Having no choice, they must work together to solve the case.

This was a great start to a new series.  There was a good balance between the family dynamic and the overall msytery.  I really liked Margo's character. There is a reason Margo has pulled away from the family and it is a lot to work through.  I did like her relationship with her siblings.  Even though there is distance, you could see that the siblings really cared about each other.  The mystery part was good and I was kept guessing. There is another mystery involving her father, but that seems to be one that will continue into the next book.  I highly recommend this one and look forward to the next book in the series.

Review: Nicola's Ghost by John Kitchen

Author: John Kitchen
Publisher: New Generation Publishing
Publication Date: January 2009

There is a dark secret haunting the Sharpe family. They are strange and remote, and when Stephanie Topham is told she must work with Nicola Sharpe in a science project at school, she is horrified. As part of their project, they have to make a pinhole camera. But when they take a photo with the camera, there is a ghost-like figure in their picture. This figure becomes a key to opening up Nicola Sharpe and revealing the secrets of her family. Through a series of appearances in various photos the ghost directs Nicola and Stephanie into a past that is full of revelations, twists and surprises. Some are painful, some tear at the fabric of the Sharpe family. But the unraveling of Nicola's past is the saving of the Sharpes, and, in a final twist it gives Nicola something more amazing than anything she has ever dared contemplate, even in her deepest dreams.

In Nicola's Ghost, Stephanie is paired up with the "weird girl", Nicola, for a class project.  When their homemade camera shows a ghost girl, Nicola begs Stephanie to help her investigate what is going on. 

I really enjoyed this one.  It is set in modern times, but had a very old timey feel to it.  The friendship that developed between Nicola and Stephanie was a pleasure to watch. I also loved the relationship that Stephanie had with her older brother.  It's a has a twisty ending that leaves you with a good feeling.  It's exactly the type of ghost story that would have fulfilled my middle school needs. I highly recommend checking it out.

Spotlight: Excerpt from Magical Meet Cute by Jean Meltzer

 

Author: Jean Meltzer
Publication Date: August 27, 2024
ISBN: 9780778334415
Format: Trade Paperback
Publisher: Harlequin Trade Publishing / MIRA
Price: $18.99 
 
Is he the real deal…or did she truly summon a golem?
 
Faye Kaplan used to be engaged. She also used to have a successful legal practice. But she much prefers her new life as a potter in Woodstock, New York. The only thing missing is the perfect guy.
 
Not that she needs one. She’s definitely happy alone.
 
That is, until she finds her town papered with anti-Semitic flyers after yet another failed singles event at the synagogue. Desperate for comfort, Faye drunkenly turns to the only thing guaranteed to soothe her—pottery. A golem protector is just what her town needs…and adding all the little details to make him her ideal man can’t hurt, right?
 
When a seriously hot stranger mysteriously turns up the next day, Greg seems too good to be true—if you ignore the fact that Faye hit him with her bike. And that he subsequently lost his memory…
 
But otherwise, the man checks Every. Single. Box. Causing Faye to wonder if Greg’s sudden and spicy appearance might be anything but a coincidence.
 

Buy Links:

 

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Excerpt:

 

1 

It was hard and magnificent. 

Faiga Kaplan, otherwise known as Faye to her friends, ran her hands down the long shaft of her latest clay creation. An earthenware vase—at least three feet in length and bearing a perfectly crafted slit for sunflowers at the top—lay on her studio table. Having been painted twice and forged through fire in her kiln, it was now ready for placement in her storefront window. All she had to do was get the heavy, hulking piece of pottery through the first floor of Magic Mud Pottery without breaking it. 

Cautiously, she lifted the vase from the table. Peeking out from the sides, carefully managing her balance with each step, she creeped slowly past the tables and chairs of her studio, bumping over the threshold into the hallway, heading through the first floor. She was halfway through the old wooden building, by the center staircase, when she felt something mushy and wet beneath her left foot. 

Faye didn’t need to look down. 

She knew exactly what she had stepped in. 

“Hillel.” Faye groaned, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. 

Carefully, she put the vase down beside the staircase, turning her attention to inspect the damage now seeping through her pink sock. 

“Hillel,” Faye called out again. “I’m serious. Get in here!” 

Hillel, a hairless and toothless Chinese crested, peeked around the corner. Faye had adopted the pathetic-looking creature when he was ten years old. At the time, she had considered it a mitzvah, a good deed, in the wake of a dreadful breakup. She thought she could funnel all her love into this poor creature—a dog riddled with back acne and without a home—and he would adore her forever. 

“I know you did this on purpose,” Faye said, lifting one foot up to display the mess. 

Hillel twisted away from her, tail up, his tiny butthole pointed straight in her line of vision. She swore that dog could speak English. 

She also knew that his constant accidents had nothing to do with tummy troubles. After all, Faye was a responsible pet owner. She had taken Hillel to the vet a dozen times, run every expensive test to see if there was something physically wrong with him, only to be told that the tiny monster was in perfectly good health. Indeed, the vet had promised her that Hillel would likely live another decade. No, he defecated all over her apartment for the same reason Stuart had called off their engagement. She was too much. 

“Keep acting this way,” Faye warned, narrowing her eyes in his direction, “and I’ll send you to go live with Nelly. You can wear frilly doll dresses and be the guest of honor at her Second Glance Erotic Parties for the rest of your natural existence.” 

Hillel strolled past her, unconcerned, before landing on a mess of blankets and pillow squares waiting for him by the storefront window. 

Faye had made the tiny bed for Hillel there so he would be comfortable. She figured he could watch the people walking down Main Street, see the customers before they entered her store. It was also the sunniest, and therefore warmest, spot in her building, an absolute necessity for a dog without any fur. She did everything for Hillel. She gave him her best. Devoted her love, time, and energy to his well-being. And what did Hillel do in response? 

Crap all over her. 

The thought had crossed her mind more than once to return him to the shelter. 

Faye never did, of course. No, as it turned out…no amount of snarling or defecating in high-traffic areas, or trying to bite her with his gummy, toothless mouth, would ever steer her heart away from the four-legged fur demon. 

The reason being simple enough. She had made a promise to Hillel. She had stood outside Woodstock Animal Shelter, placed him safely in the front basket of her bike, and told him in she would care for him, and protect him—and never betray his love on a snowmobile in Lapland—until the bitter end. 

Perhaps loving someone to the bitter end had always been her downfall. 

Her mind wandered to her ex-fiancé, Stuart, when most applicably her nose wrinkled. The scent of dog feces was beginning to take up residence. 

Faye hobbled on one foot up the stairs to the second floor. Finding her way to the bathtub, she set about cleaning up her foot. 

For the last three years, Faye had been the sole proprietor of Magic Mud Pottery. She lived above her store and studio in a quaint one-bedroom apartment. 

Magic Mud Pottery was one of a handful of quirky old buildings made of wood and painted in bright colors that dotted the bucolic downtown of Woodstock, New York. Set between large trees, and dotted by pride flags and double-hung windows, it was the type of town that, no matter the season, smelled like burning wood and cinnamon. 

Her apartment was small, but as a single woman, she didn’t need much space. Plus, she had gotten an amazing price. On the second floor, a cozy bedroom sat towards the back of the building, overlooking a fenced-in yard and garden. In the front, a tiny living room was divided from a half kitchen by a counter. A bathroom rested in between. 

As an old building, the layout—but especially the kitchen— was all types of weird. While the oven, stove, and sink were on the second floor, the refrigerator was too tall for the upstairs kitchen alcove. And so it sat downstairs, right behind the front counter, where Faye often rang up customers. 

At first, it was a problem. Especially at night, as Faye often liked to sneak downstairs in nothing but her skivvies and have a late-night snack. But Faye quickly realized that most everyone who owned a business in downtown Woodstock lived elsewhere, and so, even though she had invested in curtains, she never bothered to use them. 

Beyond all these things, she liked the quirkiness of the building. The fact it was strange and unusual. It reminded her of an apartment she had lived in on the Lower East Side while a young lawyer in Manhattan, with a shower in the kitchen and a bathroom outside the apartment, just down the hall. 

Faye was finishing cleaning up when the bell above the front door to Magic Mud Pottery rang out. 

“Faiga,” a voice called out moments later. 

She recognized the voice as belonging to Nelly, who owned the building next door, where she ran the business Second Glance Treasures. 

It was a gentle, lovely name for a store that was essentially extra storage space for a woman who had taken the hobby of hoarding to a professional capacity. Perhaps Faye was being too hard on the eccentric octogenarian. But No-Filter Nelly—as Faye sometimes called her behind her back—was a frequent, though not always welcome, visitor. 

“One moment,” Faye called out. 

Quickly, she finished drying off her foot. Spraying down her bathtub and the floor, she popped downstairs. Nelly was standing by the storefront window, arms crossed, her entire forehead wrinkling in displeasure. 

“It smells like a porta-potty in here.” Nelly grimaced. 

Faye huffed. “Hillel had an accident again.” 

“Again?” Nelly looked towards the dog. “Maybe you should take him to the vet.” “I’ve taken him to the vet,” Faye reminded her for the ten thousandth time. Grabbing a towel and some pet odor remover, she bent down to the floor and began cleaning up his mess. 

“Can I help you with something, Nelly?” 

“I was wondering if you’re going to Single in the Sukkah tonight?” she asked. 

“I’m not planning on it.” 

“Why not?” Nelly said, following her. She always followed her. “Only twenty-four dollars a participant. For a good cause. Plus, you might meet someone.” 

Faye tossed the turd in the trash. “I’m not interested in meeting anyone right now.” 

“Why not?” 

Faye slammed the lid shut. “You know the reason.” “Because you were dumped by your fiancé of seven years after a snowmobile accident in Lapland?” 

Faye had first met Stuart Wutz during law school. After a seven-year engagement, the two-week escapade she had painstakingly planned to Lapland was supposed to be a pre-wedding getaway, a chance for them to have some fun before planning for their wedding, three months away, moved into hyperdrive. 

Instead, everything about the trip had been a disaster. 

Stuart complained constantly. About the cold. About the food. About his hemorrhoids. He nearly caused an international incident when he found out the hamburger he was eating was made of reindeer meat. But it wasn’t until that fateful snowmobile ride—when Stuart skidded out on a slick of ice, crashing into a snowy embankment—that their decade-long relationship came to an official end. Bringing her vehicle safely to a stop beside him, racing to check that he was okay, she was shocked when Stuart had stood up and lobbed his own attack. 

You’re too much, Faye. Everything you do, everything you are… it’s just too much. No wonder your own mother couldn’t stand you. 

The wedding was off. Faye was thirty-one years old, and having given Stuart the best years of her life—the best of her reproductive years, too—back to being single. It was more than betrayal. It was more than a hurt. It was an avalanche of pain that she had barely escaped from. And yet, she couldn’t completely blame Stuart for what had happened. He was simply a trigger point in a snowslip that had been building since her youth. 

“So, you had one bad experience,” Nelly said. 

“Not just one,” Faye grumbled. 

“So, you had multiple bad experiences,” Nelly said, unfazed. “Lots of people hurt and disappointed you. Because of this, you give up on love forever?” 

Faye spun around. “I don’t need a mother, Nelly!” 

Her words pierced the air and turned into ice. “Everyone needs a mother,” Nelly said, simply. 

Faye scoffed, hardening herself against the admission. Against the confession. She had already had a mother in her life, and she sucked. Some nights, she could still feel the pain in her wrist—in her fingers—from where her mom had permanently disabled her. 

Faye twisted away from Nelly. “If you’re done pestering me about—” 

Nelly cut her off. “So come for the synagogue. They always need money.” 

“How about I just write them a check and spend the night reading a book and eating hard kosher salami by myself?” 

Nelly grimaced. “This is fun for you?” 

“Yes, Nelly.” Faye threw her hands up, exasperated. “This is fun for me. Because I like being alone. More important, I’m better alone. I have no interest in meeting a man, starting a romantic relationship, or getting married. Going to a Singles in the Sukkah event would be the equivalent of false advertising.” 

Faye made her way back through her pottery studio. Picking up her vase, she turned to place it in her storefront window. And that was when she saw it. The vase she had thought was perfect…had a tiny bubble at the bottom. 

“Haman’s hat,” Faye huffed. She tried not to use curse words. 

“What’s wrong?” Nelly asked. 

Faye shook her head. “I must have missed an air bubble before drying.” 

Clay held memory. If you did something wrong at any part of the process, it would be reflected in the final work. A fingerprint at the edge. A lip all misshapen and wonky. A warp or scratch in the otherwise smooth facade, or worse…the entire thing exploding, shattering completely, when placed into the kiln for firing. Clay, contrary to popular belief, was not an easy material to work with. 

“I’m just gonna throw it out,” Faye said, attempting to move it out of her window. 

“Wha!” Nelly stopped her with both hands. “Why would you throw this out? You’ve already spent time to make it.” 

“Because it’s awful,” Faye snapped back. “No one is going to want a vase with a bubble sticking out of it!” And because looking at that bubble was a constant reminder of all the things her mother had stolen from her. 

Faye was only seventeen years old when it happened. When her mother—in another one of her random and totally unjustified rages—woke her up from a sound sleep because she had accidently left clay out on the kitchen table. Grabbing Faye by the wrist and pulling her out of bed, she dragged her down the hall to clean up the supposed mess. Faye could still recall the sensation of her hand being twisted the wrong way, the sound of it snapping as the bone broke. But most of all, she remembered screaming for her father to help her. 

The abuse Faye had endured as a child changed her. She lost the scholarship to a prestigious art school in Manhattan where she was planning to study ceramics. She became wholly focused on protecting herself, remaining independent… Changing paths, she became a lawyer instead. And when she met Stuart, she thought she had found the safe, unconditional type of love that she read about in her romance novels. 

Instead, her clay memory bubbled up and formed blisters all over their love. She became someone unrecognizable. Desperate to keep Stuart happy—desperate to prove she was someone loveable and worthwhile—she lost herself completely. The break up had been hard, but when she looked at her life now, at Woodstock and Magic Mud Pottery, she was grateful. What life had taught her, most of all, was that she had to protect herself. 

Excerpted from MAGICAL MEET CUTE by Jean Meltzer, Copyright © 2024 by Jean Meltzer. Published by MIRA. 

About the Author:

JEAN MELTZER studied dramatic writing at NYU Tisch and has earned numerous awards for her work in television, including a daytime Emmy. She spent five years in rabbinical school before her chronic illness forced her to withdraw, and her father told her she should write a book? just not a Jewish one because no one reads those.
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