Spotlight: Excerpt from The Little Italian Hotel by Phaedra Patrick

 

Author: Phaedra Patrick 
On Sale June 6, 2023
Park Row Books
Paperback Original
ISBN 9780778387121
Price: $18.99

When a relationship expert’s own marriage falls apart, she invites four strangers to Italy for a vacation of healing and second chances in this uplifting new novel from the author of The Messy Lives of Book People.
Ginny Splinter, acclaimed radio host and advice expert, prides herself on knowing what’s best for others. So she’s sure her husband, Adrian, will love the special trip to Italy she’s planned for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. But when Ginny presents the gift to Adrian, he surprises her with his own very different plan—a divorce.
Beside herself with heartache, Ginny impulsively invites four heartbroken listeners to join her in Italy instead while live on air. From hiking the hills of Bologna to riding a gondola in Venice to sharing stories around the dining table of the little Italian hotel, Ginny and her newfound company embark on a vacation of healing.
However, when Adrian starts to rethink their relationship, Ginny must decide whether to commit to her marriage or start afresh, alone. And an unexpected stranger may hold the key to a very different future… Sunny, tender and brimming with charm, The Little Italian Hotel explores marriage, identity and reclaiming the present moment—even if it means leaving the past behind. 
 
Buy Links:
HarperCollins
BookShop.org 
Barnes & Noble
Amazon

Excerpt:

Mountains

“Hi, it’s Ginny Splinter, I’m listening. Tell me your worries…”

It was something she said so many times a day on her Just Ask Ginny radio show it had become second nature, like sprinkling sunflower seeds on her muesli or kissing her husband, Adrian, on the cheek before he left for work each morning.

Ginny arrived early at the Talk Heart FM studio that day to pass a financial planning article to a security guard who’d confided to her he was struggling to pay his rent. She stopped to chat to the young receptionist whose boyfriend wouldn’t commit to anything more serious between them.

“You shouldn’t rely on him for your own self-esteem. Never forget you’re a prize worth winning,” Ginny told her with a kind smile. “Come talk to me anytime.”

The receptionist wiped a tear from her eye. “Do you really mean that?” 

“A promise is a promise. Stay strong, sweetheart.” 

Ginny walked away with a glow in her chest, touched when others trusted her with their personal issues. She wasn’t one to toot her own horn, but when her friends wept into their chardonnay, she was the one they turned to for good advice and packets of tissues. Where others saw paths littered with broken glass, she chose to picture the sun rising over the mountains. It was probably why thousands of folk from Greenham, Ginny’s leafy northwest England hometown, tuned in to her daily advice show.

Throughout her fifteen years on the air, there wasn’t a problem Ginny hadn’t tried to fix, whether it was loneliness, retirement worries, body dysmorphia, noisy neighbors or bullying at work. She offered solutions for the lost loves, secret loves and the never-been-in-loves. Empathy was her superpower.

Other people’s issues made her appreciate her happy marriage all the more. Her twenty-fifth wedding anniversary was just around the corner and she couldn’t wait to celebrate it in style. Whenever Ginny thought about the surprise holiday she’d booked for her and Adrian, in Italy, she couldn’t help smiling. Next month, in June, they were going to be staying in a gorgeous little village, Vigornuovo in Bologna, for three whole weeks. It would also be the perfect opportunity to renew their wedding vows, to reaffirm their love and commitment to each other and to have some fun, too.

The thought of spending quality time alone with her husband made a rush of warmth flood her skin. Ginny couldn’t wait to wander the side streets of Venice at dusk and admire Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. More than anything, she wanted to reignite the spark in her marriage. She and Adrian had been so busy recently that they were like cars speeding along a motorway in opposite directions. It made her feel uncharacteristically listless, especially now that their daughter, twenty-four-year-old Phoebe, had left home to move in with her fiancé, Pete, and was busy arranging her own wedding.

Ginny usually advised fellow empty nesters to keep busy by taking up a new hobby, perhaps home baking or walking a neighbor’s dog, but she was struggling to practice what she preached. Her hormones had felt out of balance for some time and sticking HRT patches to her backside, to banish her hot flashes, hadn’t proved to be the wonder cure she’d hoped for.

Last week, she’d had a worrying urge to rip open her blouse on the high street and flash her lacy bra to passersby. “See, I’m here, still desirable, not invisible!” she’d wanted to shout. But really, she wanted her husband to make her feel that way. The Italian holiday was going to be the perfect solution.

When she stepped into the elevator at work, Ginny was faced with a new life-sized poster of herself. She had an auburn high ponytail with a trademark curl at the end, and was wearing a pastel blue skirt suit with animal print heels. Her face had been airbrushed, removing every wrinkle, and she’d been given a golden halo and wings.

Ginny Splinter, Advice Angel, said the tagline.

Ginny pursed her lips. She didn’t like that her lines had been erased. She’d earned them over forty-nine years of life experience, like gathering stamps in a passport.

In the office, she waved at her latest producer, Tam. There was a conveyor belt of young graduates keen to join Talk Heart FM, using it as a training ground before migrating to bigger and better roles elsewhere. Tam was the latest recruit. She buzzed with ideas and her oversized black-rimmed glasses screamed ambition.

Tam propelled her chair across the office at great speed while sitting in it. “Gin, babe,” she said, tapping a pen against her teeth. “Thought we’d shake things up today and take some live calls, if you’re up for it?”

Ginny sat down at her desk and frowned. “Are you sure that’s sensible? We’ve got time to run through the show and handpick a few problems. It gives me time to digest them and give my best advice.”

Her mind flicked back to a live call during which a woman had set fire to her husband’s clothes after discovering his affair. Fortunately, he’d not been wearing them at the time. Afterward, Ginny had fielded lots of calls from concerned listeners and had to assure them everything was okay. Since then, all her producers preferred to pre-record conversations.

Tam drummed her fingers on the table. “Come on, Gin. Today’s lead news story is about a herd of sheep escaping into Greenham town center.” She fanned a yawn with her hand. “You must be bored of the same old format, too. We don’t want Just Ask Ginny to become the missionary position of advice shows.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes. She knew her audience well. “Playing some great music, reading out listeners’ letters and giving them advice on air, plus a few pre-recorded interviews is a proven formula,” she said. “And the new poster makes me look like someone off Love Island.”

Tam slow-blinked and tapped her teeth again. “Hmm…” she said, looking Ginny up and down critically. “Not sure about that.”

Ginny was increasingly aware she was now twice the age of her colleagues. It felt unbelievable, laughable even, that she and Adrian would both turn fifty later that year. She always told callers that age was just a number, but she was finding the milestone confusing. One minute, she treated herself to a new pair of sparkly stilettoes, and the next she found herself reading reviews for thermal nightdresses. She bought pretty lingerie and vitamins to improve her energy levels. She was far from being old, but her youth sometimes seemed like a distant memory.

“I’ve made my decision.” Tam pointed her pen at Ginny’s chest like a pistol. “Let’s go for the live calls.”

Ginny tried not to growl.

A few minutes later, she went live on air, playing songs by Ed Sheeran, Adele and Coldplay, slotting in a couple of her own choices by Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Strokes.

Many of the callers seeking advice used a pseudonym and sometimes even affected a fake voice. Ginny nervously gnawed the inside of her cheek as she took a live call from Confused of Greenham. The woman didn’t know whether to enter a third marriage with a kind, generous man she didn’t love, or to pursue a fling with a younger pizza delivery guy.

“Picture yourself five years from now,” Ginny said. “You’re lying on your sofa, wrapped in a blanket with a dose of the flu. A hand gently sweeps the hair off your clammy forehead. You open your eyes and see someone holding out a cup of hot tea and some aspirin for you. Is it your fiancé or the pizza guy?”

“My fiancé, I suppose,” Confused said.

“Then there’s your answer. You can get pizza anytime from any place. Care and understanding are more difficult to come by.”

Ginny wrapped up the call and Tam’s weary voice came through her headphones. “Try making the next call sexier, Gin,” she said. “We don’t want listeners nodding off.”

“I’m here to help, not titillate,” Ginny said through gritted teeth. She ran a hand down her ponytail and picked up a call from the next person on the line. “Hello, it’s Ginny Splinter, I’m listening. Tell me your worries.”

The woman’s voice sounded shaky. “Oh, hello. It’s Miss…Peach.”

“Well, hi there, Miss Peach. Thanks for joining me today,” Ginny said. “Is there anything you’d like to share?”

The caller’s words stuttered out. “I only stayed with my husband for the sake of our child. You make a promise and then you’re stuck with it, for life. I wish I’d got out while I had the chance… I’ve wasted so much precious time and now I don’t know what to do.”

A familiar ache of compassion rose in Ginny’s chest. It was something she welcomed but had also learned to control, so other people’s problems didn’t affect her too deeply. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she soothed. “It sounds like you’ve been through a tough time. There’s nothing you can do to change the past, but you can take control of your future.”

“What if it’s too late for that?”

“It’s never too late to move on. Focus on yourself and consider what you really want from life—”

“And what if I don’t know?” Miss Peach snapped. “What if I’ve forgotten how to think about me?”

Ginny hmm’d and delivered a sympathetic pause while considering what advice to give her caller. People often just needed a gentle push in the right direction. “Why not make a list of all the things you enjoy, perhaps a walk in the country or a trip to the cinema. Try to get to know yourself again and—”

“As if that will work,” Miss Peach interrupted, her tone growing more brittle. “And what do you know anyway? You think you’re little Ms. Perfect, don’t you?”

Ginny’s scalp prickled and her mouth dried. Her uneasy sensation made the room tilt a little. She waved a hand, trying to get Tam’s attention through the glass partition, but the producer was busy scrolling on her phone. “This call is about you, not me,” she told Miss Peach. “Please don’t let your regrets eat you up.”

“I’ve seen photos of you and your husband in a magazine. Adrian, isn’t it? You think you have such a marvelous life together.”

Ginny’s heartbeat began to thump ominously in her ears. A few thousand people would be listening in to this conversation. Oh, god, she hoped Adrian or Phoebe weren’t tuning in. Organizing a wedding was stressful enough for her daughter without this. Ginny drew a finger across her neck, indicating to Tam she was thinking of cutting the caller off.

Her producer didn’t notice.

“Shouldn’t you address your own problems before you lecture other people?” Miss Peach continued. “Do you even know what your husband gets up to at work? How well do you really know him?”

Ginny hesitated and rubbed the double lines between her eyebrows. Of course she knew Adrian, from the way the moles on his back formed a diamond shape, to how he liked his toast served warm, not hot, and with butter spread right to the edges. He didn’t like the bedroom to be stuffy so he slept with the window ajar, even if it meant Ginny had to wear socks in bed during winter. He thought Porsches were works of art but would feel like a cliché owning one. He could be grumpy until his morning coffee kicked in and he enjoyed a nice glass of Rioja most evenings. He loved dogs, hated cats, liked dark chocolate but never white and sang Oasis songs while he shaved.

Nevertheless, something icy seemed to slither down her spine. “Miss Peach, what do you mean by—?” Ginny started.

“Ask him,” Miss Peach said.

“Ask him what?”

But there was a click and the line went dead.

Excerpted from The Little Italian Hotel. Copyright © 2023 by Phaedra Patrick. Published by Park Row Books, an imprint of HarperCollins.

Author Bio: 
 

Photo credit:
Samral Photography

Phaedra Patrick is the bestselling author of several novels, including The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper, which has been translated into twenty-five languages worldwide. Her second novel, Rise and Shine Benedict Stone, was made into a Hallmark movie. An award-winning short story writer, she previously studied art and marketing and has worked as a stained glass artist, film festival organizer and communications manager. Phaedra lives in Saddleworth, UK, with her family. 

Social Links:
Author Website: https://www.phaedra-patrick.com/ 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/phaedrapatrick 
Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/phaedrapatrick/   
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14203653.Phaedra_Patrick 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/phaedrapatrick 
 

Spotlight: Excerpt from Girls and Their Horses by Eliza Jane Brazier

Author: Eliza Jane Brazier
Publisher: Berkley
Publication Date: June 2023

Set in the glamorous, competitive world of showjumping, a novel about the girls who ride, their cutthroat mothers, and a suspicious death at a horse show…from the author of Good Rich People
When the nouveau riche Parker family moves to an exclusive community in the heart of Southern California, they believe it’s their chance at a fresh start. Heather Parker is determined to give her daughters the life she never had—starting with horses. 

She signs them up for riding lessons at Rancho Santa Fe Equestrian, where horses are a lifestyle. Heather becomes a “Barn Mom,” part of a group of wealthy women who hang at the stables, drink wine, and prepare their daughters for competition. 

It’s not long before the Parker family is fully enmeshed in the horse world—from mean girl cliques to barn romances and dark secrets. With the end of summer horse show fast approaching, the pressure is on, and these mothers will stop at nothing to give their daughters everything they deserve. 
Before the summer is over, lies will turn lethal, accidents will happen, and someone will end up dead.

Enjoy this excerpt:

GIRLS AND THEIR HORSES by Eliza Jane Brazier

Berkley Hardcover | On sale June 6, 2023

Excerpt

 

Maple stepped into the cool shade of the breezeway. The horses stuck their heads over the doors and watched her. One noticed the carrots and whinnied. Then they all started whinnying, pacing around their stalls and tossing their heads. One even bucked and cantered a tight circle. They were freaking out. It was kind of scary.

Maple had a sense, always, that something terrible was about to happen now. Right now. She called it prophecy; her therapist called it generalized anxiety disorder.

"What are you doing?" A girl slipped out of a stall and into the aisleway.

She seemed older than Maple, but she was small and delicate. She was wearing a bright red coat, like a girl marked for death in a horror movie. But she had the face of the killer.

"You can't be here," the girl continued. "Didn't you read the signs?" She noticed the carrots. "Oh my God! Are you giving the horses carrots? Don't you know you can't do that? They could have Cushing's disease. Or bite you. I know this girl, and her mom got her finger bitten off by their horse, and the horse swallowed it. Seriously, I'm not fucking kidding."

Maple dropped the heavy bag on the ground. Her whole face burned. She wanted to run, but her legs felt weak. She was dizzy. She wished her mom were there.

Heather never seemed to be bothered by drama. In fact, she often seemed drawn to it. If there was a kerfuffle at a restaurant, if gunshots rang out, Heather drifted steadily toward it, clutching her purse and smiling benignly. Can I help?

"My mom-," Maple started.

"You need to leave," the girl said. "Seriously, you're actually trespassing. And why are you wearing riding clothes? It's Monday."

Maple burned up even more. She'd tried to warn her mother about this, when she had dressed Maple up like a doll.

A woman who must have been the other girl's mom appeared. She shared her daughter's red hair.

"What are you doing here?" she said. She also shared her attitude.

"My mom's here," Maple said, not answering the question. "I have to go get her." She took off like a lunatic toward the offices. She abandoned the carrots in the barn aisle.

"Hey!" the girl yelled after her. "You can't run around horses!"


Maple found her mom practically in the middle of breaking and entering. It would never have occurred to Heather that the office wasn’t hers to open.

"Why are you running?" Heather asked, trying a combination on the lock. "I was thinking I could write them a note. I think this is the main office. I've already left seven voice messages."

Heather had been trying to contact this barn since before the move. Instead of giving up, she got only more determined.

Maple was breathing hard. She was on the verge of tears. "They said we can't be here!" Her voice rose precipitously. "They said we're trespassing."

Heather perked up. "Who said that? Is someone here?"

Heather started in the direction Maple had come from, but then the red-haired woman appeared, matching daughter in tow. When she saw Heather, she smiled so fast it was like a quick draw in a shoot-out.

"Why, hello there!" Her eyes ran fast over Heather, like she was calculating the value of everything she saw-Heather herself included. "I'm Pamela and this is my daughter, Vida."

"I'm Heather. Parker. And this is my daughter Maple."

"I was just telling your sweet girl that unfortunately this barn isn't open to the public." Pamela was holding Vida's hand, their fingers laced, like they were best friends instead of mother and daughter.

"Oh, we're not the public," Heather said. They had been rich for a short amount of time, but Heather had adjusted beautifully. "We're here to sign up for riding lessons."

"It's Monday," Pamela said. "No one comes in on Mondays. And this isn't a lesson barn. They don't have school ponies or summer camps."

Heather stepped forward, crossed her arms neatly. Since she had become rich, Maple's mother had changed, although not completely. The root of what she had always been was still there. But she had become more herself.

"We just bought a house a mile from here," Heather said, as if that had anything to do with it.

But Maple could see Pamela's expression change. It softened a little, like the Parkers were closer to belonging not just there but everywhere.

"How lovely! That makes us neighbors," she said. "But I will warn you, this probably isn't the barn for you."

Maple knew the woman couldn't have tempted her mother more.

"There's a good riding school in Olivenhain. I can give you their number."

"No, thank you. I like this one. It's closer to our house. I want Maple to be able to walk to the barn if she wants to," Heather said. As if Maple would ever walk a mile. "Would you mind taking my number? Then you can pass it along to the owners for me. I've been trying to reach them."

"Kieran Flynn," Pamela said, like the name meant something to everyone. "He's the owner and the head trainer."

Pamela clearly didn't want to take her number, but Heather just waited. Pamela finally took out her phone. She typed Heather's number in quickly.

Then she added, "This is a show barn. Last year, we outperformed every barn at the Southern California International Horse Show. We demand total commitment to the program. We're a very tight community. You have to have your own horses, and your horses have to be in the training program. That means all of your rides are supervised by a trainer, and your horse is schooled by a Professional rider. It's really not a place for fun."

"Good," Heather said, taking Maple's hand like she was aping Pamela. "We don't want to have fun."

There was nothing Heather loved more than the word no.

 

 

Excerpted from Girls and Their Horses by Eliza Jane Brazier Copyright © 2023 by Eliza Jane Brazier. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved.

Spotlight: Excerpt from Even if the Sky is Falling edited by Taj McCoy

 

Author: Taj McCoy, Farah Heron, Lane Clarke, Charish Reid, Sarah Smith, and Denise Williams
ISBN: 9781335452559
Publication Date: May 30, 2023
Publisher: Canary Street Press
18.99 US | 23.99 CAN

For readers of Bolu Babalola’s LOVE IN COLOR and Dhonielle Clayton’s BLACKOUT, a collection of six stories filled with hope, humor, and heat that explore the chances a couple may take when they mistakenly believe the world is ending; for fans of Love Actually and all the best 90s disaster films that end in a triumphant kiss, with stories by Taj McCoy, Farah Heron, Lane Clarke, Charish Reid, Sarah Smith, and Denise Williams.

When the global threat of meteor showers – exacerbated by an increasing amount of space debris in our solar system – causes widespread panic, a world-wide siren system alerting people to significant threats is developed. The plan immediately hits a rocky start when the US accidently launches the siren during a routine testing without being able to signal the all-clear, causing people to take immediate shelter.
Each of these 6 stories forces two people – strangers, colleagues, crushes, rivals – to take cover with one another, exploring what chances a person may take when they mistakenly believe the world is ending. Spoiler: it’s a lot of confession making and kissing.

Filled with joy, heat, and emotion, this collection also seamlessly incorporates issues impacting people of color in an authentic and genuine way.
 
Buy Links: 
BookShop.org
Harlequin
Barnes & Noble
Books A Million
Amazon
Goodreads: Taj McCoy, Farah Heron, Lane Clarke, Charish Reid, Sarah Smith, Denise Williams
 

Excerpt:

ALL THE STARS

“Willy Song, we are leaving this base and heading to the station in eight minutes, with or without you,” Halley growled through gritted teeth into her phone. She hung up before he could respond. This is the last time I allow this joker off base before a mission.

The dry air kicked up dust in the breeze, but the September heat radiated off the tarmac outside of a small hangar. Halley Oakes was one mission away from being promoted from a NASA senior communications specialist to project manager, and it all depended on the success of this team. Based on those she’d been assigned, Halley had her doubts that her promotion was any closer than it had been a year before. More than once, Song had put her in a bind that left her with egg on her face in front of her superiors. He could complete most of his job, but not before making matters worse. She was sure someone had been joking when she read the team roster days before.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Willy jumped out of an SUV that hadn’t come to a full stop with a cloth grocery bag, clanging its contents in one hand and a mission binder in the other. “Man, I hope we have time for a pit stop, because I think I had some bad shellfish last night, and a three-hour ride with me could be unpleasant.” He scrunched up his nose, waving a hand in front of his face comically until he caught the arctic glare of his superior. His wiry hunched form straightened, and he pushed his floppy dark hair back so it wouldn’t fall into his eyes.

Ew. “What the hell is that you’re carrying, Song?” Willy Song was the tech specialist that no one chose for essential missions. Between his inappropriate jokes, his constant need to overshare and his record for accidents, there was no way he should be assigned to this detail. Of course, tell that to the chief—Song happened to be his only nephew.

Song hesitated briefly before a sly grin spread across his face. “Have you ever tried a peanut butter stout, boss?” He held open the bag by its handles to show off its contents—a six-pack of beer and a bag of pretzels. He practically danced with excitement; his feet tapping the tarmac to the beat of a rhythmless drum. “It’s locally made at a brewery here in Boulder. It’s supposed to be amazing, with subtle hints of chocolate and peanut butter.” He chef-kissed his fingers as his eyes rolled back.

“Ew, no, and don’t call me that. I like Oakes just fine.” Halley wrinkled her nose. Beer was never really appealing to her, and adding peanut butter wasn’t likely to make it better. She smoothed her hands over a self-imposed uniform of black cargo pants, work boots and a thin V neck sweater with a small NASA emblem embroidered high on the left breast. Her curves felt understated in this uniform, and her thick halo of curls was pulled back into her standard “work attire” bun. She pushed the sleeves up her forearms, wishing she’d opted for something short-sleeved in this heat and running through the inventory of other clothes in her go bag.

“Everyone else here, boss?” Song eyed the black Escalade loaded with equipment for the installation.

“Glenn is already in the truck. We’re just waiting on Simmons.” Halley checked her watch for what felt like the millionth time. Jake Glenn, their systems engineer, always arrived like clockwork. Lynn Simmons, a part of the protective detail, usually beat everyone there and would nap until it was time to move. Where is she?

“Simmons? I thought she got reassigned for that detail in Florida?” He shifted his binder under the arm holding his prized beer so he could scratch his head before unsuccessfully trying to smooth his wrinkled clothes.

Halley’s head snapped in Song’s direction. “What?” she barked. A twisting sensation pierced her gut, and she blinked hard before staring at him with laser focus. “She was reassigned? Who is her replacement?”

Song’s eyes widened as if he knew more. “Umm…”

Halley snatched her phone out of her pocket to go through her emails from the chief. Surely someone would have told her that her team assignments changed. Sure enough, Chief Henry had emailed her while they were in the air on their Colorado-bound flight from Andrews Air Force Base, outside of DC. She scanned the email, inhaling a sharp breath when her eyes fell on the last name she wanted to see. Griffin Harper.

Seeing the murderous glint in her dark eyes, Song retreated to the SUV as Halley’s cell rang. Shit, it’s the boss. “Sir,” she answered on the first ring, her tone devoid of emotion.

“Oakes, I sent you an updated roster while you were in the air.” The chief’s no-nonsense tone was enough for Halley to understand that there would be no talking her way out of these last-minute reassignments. She assumed he came out of the womb scowling.

“Yes, sir, I saw the update.” Her mouth formed a straight line. Protesting would just piss off the chief, and Halley was trying her hardest to advance in her career at NASA—something she’d been focused on since she started out as a summer intern in grad school. It had taken a decade to rise through the ranks and gain the trust of her superiors, first by becoming a specialist, and finally having “senior” attached to her title. Halley had built a reputation of reliability and strong leadership, and she could feel that she was right on the brink of advancement yet again. She could taste it. Complaining about assignments wasn’t something that many comms specialists could get away with while still being assigned to lead missions.

Over the years, Halley had become the chief’s go-to specialist on the team; he relied on her efficiency and quick thinking. He especially liked that she didn’t bombard him with questions on how to get things done. Her initiative was a constant topic whenever he had to dress down a slacker in their unit. There were colleagues who teased her for being a favorite, but no one could deny Halley’s work ethic.

“This won’t be a problem, will it, Oakes?” Usually, Halley’s commanding officer wouldn’t have any knowledge of her personal relationships, but she and Griff had a huge blowout argument in the mess hall the last time they saw each other—right after he’d sent the text that ended their relationship. She’d gone after him to give him a piece of her mind, and when he had nothing to say in response, she blew up. The chief and several other senior officials were present. Over a year had passed, but Halley had never shaken her frustration at being led on by a man who promised the world when he ultimately wasn’t ready for an actual commitment or even to communicate his feelings like an adult. Because of her outburst in front of the senior team, her advancement had slowed, as if the higher-ups were waiting to see if she would rally or unravel altogether.

“Not at all, sir. We will conduct ourselves professionally and make sure that the system is installed flawlessly.” Halley stood at attention, her voice firm, even though her insides were swirling.

“Good. Has Song arrived?” Of course, he had to check up on his nephew.

Sweat began to gather across Halley’s smooth brown forehead as she cleared her throat. She whisked it away with the back of her hand. “He has. He’s already in the transport vehicle. We’re just waiting for Harper to arrive, and then we’ll head for the base.”

“Good.” His voice softened slightly, as if he’d stepped away from the earshot of others. He was constantly surrounded by a team of people monitoring any number of projects and emergencies. “Now listen. Song looks up to you, and he could benefit from your guidance, Oakes. Make sure that this mission goes off without a hitch, yes?” The firmness of his tone indicated there was only one right answer. Being on the chief’s bad side could mean a six-month detail in a place no one wanted to go.

“Yes, sir. We won’t let you down, sir.” The phone disconnected, and Halley bit her lip wondering whether she would be able to keep her promise. Her shoulders rounded slightly as she fell deep into thought. The chief’s nephew had already shared that he planned to sneak contraband into the station, and Halley’s emotionally unavailable ex was on his way to distract her and bring back all of the feelings that she never processed. She sucked her teeth, brooding over the inevitable. Sensing movement behind her, Halley’s back snapped straight, and she waited for the figure to identify itself. His smell-good cologne gave him away first.

“Hi, Halley,” the voice behind her rumbled with a gravelly bass tone that reverberated at her very core. “Been a long time.”

 

Excerpted from Even if the Sky is Falling, “All the Stars” by Taj McCoy. Copyright © 2023 by Taj McCoy. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

 

Author Bio: 

Taj McCoy is a law grad committed to championing plus-sized Black love stories and characters with a strong sense of sisterhood and familial bonds. Born in Oakland, Taj started writing as a child and celebrated her first publications in grade school. When she’s not writing, Taj boosts other marginalized writers, practices yoga, co-hosts the Fat Like Me and Better Than Brunch podcasts. Farah Heron writes complex story arcs and uplifting happily ever afters while pursuing careers in human resources and psychology. Her romantic comedies and women's fiction are full of huge South Asian families, delectable food, and most importantly, brown people falling stupidly in love. She lives in Toronto. Lane Clarke has been in love with books since the age of two. Her stories feature Black culture and big-hearted characters with self-doubts and big dreams, who—with a little laughter and good friends—can accomplish anything. She currently lives in Northern Virginia and works as an attorney in Washington, D.C. Charish Reid is a fan of sexy books and disaster films. When she's not grading papers or prepping lessons for college freshmen, she enjoys writing romances that celebrate quirky Black women who deserve HEAs. Charish currently lives in Sweden. Sarah Smith is a copywriter-turned-author who wants to make the world a lovelier place, one kissing story at a time. Her love of romance began when she was eight and she discovered her auntie's stash of romance novels. She lives in Bend, Oregon. Denise Williams wrote her first book in the second grade. That book featured a tough, funny heroine, a quirky hero, witty banter, and a dragon. Minus the dragons, these are still the books she likes to write. After penning those early works, she finished second grade and eventually earned a Ph.D. in education, going on to work in higher education. Denise lives in Des Moines, Iowa.

 
Social Links:
Author Website: Taj McCoy, Farah Heron, Lane Clarke, Charish Reid, Sarah Smith, Denise Williams
Twitter: Taj McCoy, Farah Heron, Lane Clarke, Charish Reid, Sarah Smith, Denise Williams
Facebook: Farah Heron, Charish Reid, Sarah Smith, Denise Williams
Instagram: Taj McCoy, Farah Heron, Lane Clarke, Charish Reid, Sarah Smith, Denise Williams

Spotlight: Midlife Battle Cry by Dawn Barton

Author:  Dawn Barton
Publisher: Thomas Nelson (May 9, 2023)
Paperback: 224 pages

In a culture where so many people think of middle age as a downward slope into comfy sneakers and quiet, meaningless existence, we can redefine the second half of life, shaping it into decades of fulfillment, fun, strength, and purpose.
In our forties, fifties, and beyond, we’re wrestling with new questions. Is this it? Did I do what I wanted to do in my life? Who am I now that my kids have moved out? Will my sagging skin eventually hang all the way down to my feet? We feel a little like the world has nudged us aside for the younger crowd.
But God still has much in store for us.
God doesn’t bring us to the middle of our lives so we can park in front of the TV and binge-watch home makeover shows. There is no “midlife” to him! We are his gift to this world at every age and in every season, and it’s time to embrace it like never before. Right now, we are the best we’ve ever been. We know more, we’ve done more, we’ve lost and loved more. We’ve figured out that all tweezers are not created equal for chin hairs and, best of all, we’ve crossed into a space of feeling more ourselves than ever before. These are exhilarating and empowering years.
In Midlife Battle Cry, bestselling author Dawn Barton will inspire you to:

• realize that God isn’t done with you (honestly, he’s just getting started),

• view midlife as a pivot point, the start of a bold and powerful season,

• embrace who you are physically, spiritually, and emotionally,

• learn to share your experiences and wisdom with a younger generation, and

• accept that sometimes adding arch support to your cutest shoes is a really good idea.

Blending lots of humor, honesty, stories, and insights, Dawn will walk you through redefining the mighty second half of life. It’s time to rediscover your passions, pursue your dreams—and know your actions can cause not just a ripple effect but a magnificent tidal wave.

About the author:

Dawn Barton followed a God calling to write Laughing Through the Ugly Cry, she left a thirty-year career in sales and marketing, despite being the #7 Sales Director in Mary Kay and seeing her own 10-foot smile on a Times Square billboard. Although released during a pandemic, Laughing Through the Ugly Cry became a bestselling success, garnering the prestigious ECPA Christian Book Award for New Author of the Year. Dawn speaks at conferences, churches, elevators, and just about anywhere anyone will listen to her thoughts on finding joy and humor in even the most difficult of circumstances. She is particularly passionate about The Retreat at Trinity, an intimate three-day experience designed to help women rediscover their God-given purpose. Retreats are held at Dawn’s beautiful 23-acre home in Cantonment, Florida, where she is living the sandwich-generation dream with her husband, daughter, parents, mother-in-law, and too many animals to count.

TLC tour schedule:
Monday, May 22^nd: @megsbookclub
Tuesday, May 23^rd: @booksandcoffeemx 
Wednesday, May 24^th: @lovemybooks2020
Thursday, May 25^th: @fashionablyfifty
Friday, May 26^th:  @jenniaahava 
Saturday, May 27^th:  @kristens.reading.nook
Tuesday, May 30^th: @tammyreads62
Tuesday, May 30^th: @suzylew_bookreview
Wednesday, May 31^st: @pickagoodbook 
Saturday, June 3^rd: @beckys_bookshelves
Sunday, June 4^th: @webreakforbooks
Sunday, June 4^th: @rozierreadsandwine
Tuesday, June 6^th: @just_another_mother_with_books
TBD: Thursday, June 1^st: From the TBR Pile – spotlight
TBD: Friday, June 2^nd: @nurse_bookie 

Review: In His Protection by Sandra Owens

Author: Sandra Owens
Publisher: Carina Press
Publication Date: August 2022

Chief of police Tristan Church likes Marsville just the way it is. He has his job and his police dog, Fuzz, for company. He could have Sheriff Skylar Morgan, too, but she’s determined to keep him at arm’s length, even if the one night they shared was unforgettable.

When a kooky Marsville matriarch decides to reopen the town’s old UFO museum, everyone laughs—except Tristan. Inviting cranks and conspiracy theorists to Marsville is bound to be trouble. But he’s on the museum planning committee with Skylar, and he won’t say no to spending time with her…even if he thinks this is a bad idea.

But when their sleepy little town is suddenly full of dangers, Tristan and Fuzz are the only ones who can protect Skylar. And as the threat against her grows, so does the intimacy between Skylar and Tristan. With their lives on the line, can they trust their hearts not to break?

In His Protection is the first book in the  K-9 Defenders series.  The series follows three brothers who were reluctantly raised by their aunt.  After her passing, they decided to all live in her house together and raise their niece.  This one is Tristan and Skylar's story.  He is the oldest brother and Chief of Police.

I loved the dynamic between Tristan and Skylar.  They were great together and the sexual tension was off the charts. That year of not giving in to their passion really ramped it up. As for the suspense part of the book, I thought the person who was after her was fairly obvious.  Despite that, I still ended up liking the book.  I loved Tristan's brothers and his niece.  The town was full of seriously adorable characters.  It's one I want to visit again. I look forward to book two and Kade's story.

May Mini Musings

Alaskan Mountain Search: This is the 8th book in the K-9  Search and Rescue series.  I definitely liked this one the least out of all of the books in the series.  I didn't care for the main character as she was kind of insufferable.  It was a bit too religious for me.  I also didn't love the narrator for the audiobook on this one.  The voices for the different characters were hard to tell apart.  I have still loved the series overall. 

Alaskan Avalanche Escape:  This is the final book in the K-9 Search and Rescue Series.  And what a finale.  This one is jam packed with action and lots of avalanches. I liked the main characters and the romance was sweet.  It's a great way to end the series.

Detection Detail:  This is the first in the Rocky Mountain K-9 series.  It looks like the books in this series are more closely related to each other.  There seems to be a story arc where the K -9 training center is being targeted.  Also, there is a missing baby that isn't found in this book.  This one worked OK as a stand alone since it was the first in the series. There were a lot of unanswered questions in the end.  I didn't love the couple and I picked out the culprit right away.  I thought the reasons her being targeted was kind of dumb.  I'll still continue with the series though.

Review: Ward D by Freida McFadden

Author: Freida McFadden
Publisher: Hollywood Upstairs Press
Publication Date:  May 2023

Medical student Amy Brenner is spending the night on a locked psychiatric ward.

Amy has been dreading her evening working on Ward D, the hospital’s inpatient mental health unit. There are very specific reasons why she never wanted to do this required overnight rotation. Reasons nobody can ever find out.

And as the hours tick by, Amy grows increasingly convinced something terrible is happening within these tightly secured walls. When patients and staff start to vanish without a trace, it becomes clear that everyone on the unit is in grave danger.

Amy’s worst nightmare was spending the night on Ward D.

And now she might never escape.

I love when a book goes into a completely different direction than I am expecting.  That is exactly what Ward D did.  It involves Amy, a medical student, who is assigned to an overnight shift on Ward D.  It's a inpatient mental unit.  Despite her reservations, she agrees.  She realizes quickly that something is not right.

I really enjoyed this thriller.  The reveal came out of nowhere for me, but in a good way.  I was so sure it was going to be something completely different!  I loved finding out the truth along with Amy.  I also loved that I had no idea if she was a reliable narrator or not.  I don't want to spoil it, so I'll just recommend reading it.  The ending was perfect! I highly recommend!

Release Blitz: Excerpt from Gingerbread Man by Karla Doyle

 

by Karla Doyle
 
Honey Golding is the sweetest little thing Cal has ever laid eyes on. His much-younger new employee is off-limits, but his sweet tooth might overrule his common sense… and his willpower. Readers who love a side of laughter with their romance will enjoy Gingerbread Man by Karla Doyle, a steamy, small town, grumpy/sunshine, boss/employee, age gap romance.
 
 
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 Add to Goodreads Here!
 
A town that celebrates Christmas year-round is the perfect place for a newly divorced, six-foot-four ginger-haired baker to open his new business, The Ginger Bread Man. Too bad he doesn’t share the community’s love of everything ho-ho-ho. Fake it until you make it, right? Or hire someone who has enough holiday spirit that nobody notices your lack thereof. Enter Honey Golding, the sweetest little thing Cal has ever laid eyes on. His much-younger new employee is off-limits, but his sweet tooth might overrule his common sense… and his willpower.
 
Excerpt
Copyright 2023 Karla Doyle
 
“Your hours say you're open until six,” the brunette says when I unlock and open the door. “So I thought I had plenty of time to catch you.”
“I close when everything’s sold.”
Little Miss Sunshine doesn’t flinch at my grumpy tone. She just stares up at me with the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever seen. “You don’t have anything left to sell? By quarter after four?”
“No.” An apology would be appropriate here, I know. Not my style. Hence why I need a customer service elf. “Come by in the morning if you don’t want to be disappointed.” Shit, even I can do better than that. I huff a miserable-sounding sigh. “I tell you what—I’ll put something aside for you, and you can pick it up whenever you get here. The door will probably be locked, but I’ll wait for you. Best I can do. So. What were you hoping to get today?”
“A job.” No tapping on the glass this time. She pushes past me to reach in and pull my makeshift sign from the inside of the window, then hands it to me. “This job. You won’t find anyone better. What time should I be here tomorrow?”
I grunt a laugh. Even smile a little. She’s spunky, confident, and yeah, very easy on the eyes. Too easy, considering she’s gotta be in her early-twenties, and I’m knocking on forty’s door. My attraction is irrelevant. She’s applying for a job, not a date.
Right now, she’s my top candidate, simply because of her personality. But this is my business, and despite feeling like the stupidest man alive for being blindsided back in Cali, I’m not foolish enough to hire anyone on impulse. Not even the irresistible brunette.
“Got a resume?” I hook a nod toward the cash counter. “I’ll add it to the pile and look it over later.” When she’s not standing in my personal space, looking and smelling like a sweet treat I could sink into. My second head doesn’t get to do the hiring.
She breaks eye contact only long enough to pull a sheet of sunshiny-yellow paper from her bag.
Despite my comment about reviewing it later, I scan the page after she hands it to me. “No bakery experience,” I say, pointing out the only fault I find.
Her genuine smile doesn’t waver, not even for a moment. “Don’t worry. I’ll have your buns and baguettes figured out in no time.”
If she knew how much my baguette liked the sound of that, she’d snatch her application from my hand and never come back. “I’ll be in touch—” I glance at the paper again, as if I didn’t already have her name and number committed to memory. “Ms. Golding.”
“It’s Miss, and call me Honey.”
Another grunted laugh slips out. “Hoping to sweeten me up so I give you the job, Miss Golding?”
“I always put Honora on formal or professional documents, but everyone in town calls me Honey.”
Shit. I’ve got big feet and an even bigger mouth to shove them in.
She raises one eyebrow over eyes the color of moss and shiny as sea glass. “Don’t worry, boss, I’m not offended. What time should I be here in the morning?”
“I haven’t offered you the job.” A smile forces its way past my resting grump face as I accept the hand she extended, awareness rising to riotous levels throughout my body the instant we make skin-to-skin contact.
“You will,” she says, holding my hand and my gaze. “I’m exactly what you need.”
She’s right. I know it with every cell of my being. Trouble is, I think she’s exactly what I need in more ways than I can have her.
 
 
About Karla Doyle

After studying fashion design in college, Karla worked in the clothing industry for over two decades. In 2011, she caught the writing bug, received a scholarship to attend the Romance Writers of America conference in New York City, and hasn’t looked back.
A small-town girl with some big-city experience, Karla resides in Southwestern Ontario, Canada, with her husband and two young-adult kids. When she’s not writing the sexy stories swirling around in her head, you can find her spending time with family, playing online Scrabble, or cuddled up with a romance novel and her beloved pets.
Karla loves interacting with readers. Connect with her online or send her an email. She’d love to hear from you!
 
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