Nav Social Menu

    • Facebook
    • Instagram
    • X

Chick Lit Goddess

...because every author wants to feel like a goddess!

  • Home
  • About Isabella
    • Books
  • Blog
  • Reviews
    • Contact/Review Policy
  • Tips for Writers
  • Skip to secondary menu
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Chick Lit

BOOK FEATURE: “Dog Eared Love”

June 9, 2017 2 Comments

“Dog Eared Love” by Maggie Dallen, Tammy Andresen, Dawn Brower, Tracy Krimmer, Holly Tierney-Bedord, Amy Gettinger, Katie Rose Guest Pryal, and Lauren Faulkenberry

Blurb: Read eight tail wagging tales of romance. Some steamy, some funny, join these hotter than hot couples who need a nudge from man’s best friend. Because every good romance needs a little help…and sometimes the best wingman is a four-legged friend.

*****

**Excerpt of “In With the New” by Tracy Krimmer

“What do you do for a living?” I’ve wondered this since I first met him. He’s here in the morning when most people are headed to work, and he doesn’t dress like a businessman.

He scratches his eyebrow and his head falls back. Now I’m the one waiting in anticipation. Is he some sort of celebrity? I wouldn’t even know since I don’t watch any television. Or a private detective? That would be kind of awesome. He smiles as he says, “I’m a dog trainer.”

There’s no way he’s a dog trainer. If he were, he would have jumped at the chance to solicit his services. Here I am, a lost puppy owner, and he has the perfect in. “You are not a dog trainer.”

“Cross my heart. I own a training facility here in town. I run a small store inside, too. It’s only me, and most times I am there by appointment only.”

I nod my head. “Very cool. No wonder Phil is so wonderful. You really know what you’re doing when it comes to animals.”

“I went through a certification process, but I’ve always loved animals, especially dogs. Like I said, they’re a man’s best friend.”

I glance at his hand resting on the bench and find I have to stop myself so I don’t place mine on top of his. There’s so much more behind what he says to me on the surface. Between the lines, he’s been hurt. Comfort lies where his dog is.

“Well, if things don’t get under control with Moose soon, I may have to hire you.” I mean this. I don’t want to ask him for help, and I honestly don’t think I have the time to work with a trainer, but if I’m going to trust anyone, I think it’s going to be Eli.

“Moose is a good pup. He’s just that—a puppy. He needs structure and exercise. And lots of love.”

When I agreed to adopt Moose, my caring meter was through the roof. My friend Melinda needed a home for the puppy. Her dog Lacy birthed six pups and all but one—Moose—were adopted. I stepped up to the plate as I always do. It’s easy to fall fast for a puppy, so much so that you forget what’s involved in owning one. “Well, I’m keeping you in mind.”

“Please, do.”

Moose is having fun, but I need to finish my video for today and make it to the store before three. “I should get going. Same time tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

I stand to call Moose back to me, not that he’ll even listen. He recognizes his name, he just chooses to ignore me.

“Wait, Meg?”

“Yes.”

He’s standing now as well and turns to face me. “Would you like to join me for dinner tonight? A know a great place. Italian.”

A date. With Eli. I run through my day in my mind. If I rearrange a few things, I could be able to make it work. I don’t know if I want to go on a date, though. Eli’s great, but I’m so busy right now, and the next week is going to be so busy. I shouldn’t. I’ll only regret that I didn’t use my time efficiently. “I don’t know. My to-do list is a mile long.”

“As are your excuses. Come on. It’s dinner.” He tilts his head, lowering his eyes to my lips. His eyes meet mine again, locked like a target. “An hour and a half, two hours, tops.”

Saying yes would put me in time constraints that would stress me to the max, but not having to worry about dinner seems appealing as well. Those hazel eyes won’t disconnect from mine, and the corner of his lip curls into a smile. I can’t say no. “Fine. No more than two hours.”

“It’s a date,” he replies.

I’m afraid to admit I’m excited, but I am. Spending time with Eli is becoming such a pleasant experience, and one I look forward to and want to keep repeating. We agree to meet at the restaurant, and as I leave him to go grab Moose, I do the only thing I would do—I step right on the bag of Moose’s poop, smashing it beneath my feet.

**Find “Dog Eared Love”: Amazon   Goodreads

*****

**About Tracy Krimmer, author of “In With the New”: Tracy Krimmer loves penning chick lit and Women’s Fiction as well as reading the same genre. Her passion for the written word began at a young age and her favorite place as a child was the library.

When she’s not writing, she enjoys fitness, crushing candy, and napping. She lives in the Midwest with her family.

Filed Under: Dog Eared Love Tagged With: Amy Gettinger, and Lauren Faulkenberry, Chick Lit, Dawn Brower, Dog Eared Love, Dogs, Holly Tierney-Bedord, Katie Rose Guest Pryal, Love, Maggie Dallen, Romance, Tammy Andresen, Tracy Krimmer, Women's Fiction

NEW RELEASE: “Excess Baggage”

June 9, 2017 Leave a Comment

**Note to readers: This is a late post**

“Excess Baggage” by Laura Barnard

Blurb: Stuck in a dead-end relationship, Erica Bennett finds herself daydreaming of her first holiday romance. She was fifteen, it was exciting, new and full of possibilities…and Jack Lawson was hot as hell. That kind of thing leaves a mark.

So when her friends suggest a girls holiday to Luna Island, it’s exactly what she needs to take her mind off things. What she doesn’t expect is to spot Jack – a much older, hotter version of him – across the hotel lobby.

Their attraction is still there and it isn’t long before sparks fly, but fifteen years is a long time. They aren’t the same people they were back then and besides, it’s only a week, right?

Is it a second chance at something real or will their excess baggage ruin their shot at love after they leave Luna Island?

**Click HERE to get your copy of “Excess Baggage” now!

*****

**Contact Laura: Website   Facebook   Twitter   Instagram   Pinterest   Goodreads

*****

Filed Under: Excess Baggage Tagged With: Books, Chick Lit, Excess Baggage, Laura Barnard, New Release, Romance, Women's Fiction

BOOK FEATURE: “The Internet Made Me Do It (The Avery Fowler 2.0 Trilogy Book 2)”

May 30, 2017 Leave a Comment

“The Internet Made Me Do It (The Avery Fowler 2.0 Trilogy Book 2)” by Jennifer Ammoscato

Blurb:

It’s been forty-three days, seven hours and twenty-six minutes since reporter Avery Fowler last consulted her favourite website, HowTo.com, for advice.

But now—her mouse finger’s getting itchy:

You see, after a year of highs, the lows are coming fast and furious.

Maybe just this one time, she can turn to Clem…

Dear HowTo.com: Is it hacking if it’s my boyfriend’s computer?

Dear HowTo.com: What’s in fashion for S&M: leather or lace?

Dear HowTo.com: Should there be icicles in my turkey?

Dear HowTo.com: Is the definition of “hooker” flexible?

Does Avery have an unhealthy Internet advice dependency? Probably.

But it would never steer her wrong—would it?

EXCERPT

IN THE fluttering light of the melting candles, through a thin slit in the black scarf that covers my eyes, I see the promising shadow that his manhood casts against the wall of the dusky bedroom. 

My stomach muscles quiver in anticipation. The silken knots that bind me tightly to the bedpost are no longer restraints. Instead, I know, deep in my core, that they will unleash a wild abandon that I never knew existed. 

He steps closer to the bed on which I lay helpless; his sapphire blue eyes flicker over me—wanton and full of lust. He licks his luscious, full, red lips in appreciation of my carnal offering. I draw in my breath and the bustière thrusts my breasts tantalizingly closer to his insatiable mouth. 

The palpable heat of my skin—and the furnace that he knows burns inside of me—invites him ever nearer. I wait for his touch. For his command. For him to impose his will. I wait with a fast-beating heart and he plunges— 

“Avery, are you home?”

Shit! It’s Ryan! I shove the book under my pillow and my Better-Than-Ex vibrator under the covers. Damn it! It won’t shut off! I feel frantically for the switch and silence its enthusiastic buzzing.

“Ave, where’re you?” I hear the telltale creak; he’s on the first step on his way upstairs to see me.

“Just resting,” I moan in a listless voice. (Mild nausea or strep throat? Which should I pretend I have? I can play either but nausea invites unfortunate visuals that I don’t want my boyfriend to associate with me.)

I close my eyes, sink back onto the pillow, and try my best for a tired, mildly ill expression. (The telltale glow in my cheeks will probably rat me out.)

Ryan appears at the door of our bedroom. “Why’re you in bed? Not feeling well?”

I groan, roll over on my side, and open one eye. “My throat’s not quite right,” I rasp. As an afterthought, “And, my head’s pounding.”

Ryan leans against the doorframe and appraises my condition. “That’s funny, I thought women use headaches to avoid sex.” He strolls over to the side of the bed and pulls the trashy novel out from under my pillow where I stashed it. (Not that well. Obviously.)

He glances at the cover. “Hmmm. Unleash My Love. If this is a how-to book, I’m completely on board.”

**Get your copy now of “The Internet Made Me Do It (The Avery Fowler 2.0 Trilogy Book 2)”!: Amazon

*****

INTERVIEW

Describe your writing style in five words: Funny, breezy, breathless, bursts and stabby.

Tell us about the Avery Fowler series: The Avery Fowler 2.0 Trilogy is the story of a woman who must learn to grow up and face life with her favourite crutch—the on-line help website, HowTo.com.

It’s comprised of three books: Dear Internet: It’s Me, Avery (Book 1); The Internet Made Me Do It (Book 2); and The Internet Never Lies (Book 3).

Dear Internet: It’s Me, Avery begins when newspaper reporter Avery Fowler discovers her husband is having an affair and her newspaper’s new publisher is the Wicked Bitch of the West.

Naturally, she turns to HowTo.com for advice on how to handle these challenges.

If the Internet is Avery’s information god, then HowTo.com is her Holy Grail. Its live chat option is like having a virtual life coach for the low, low price of $14.95 a month.But, Avery will eventually discover that

But, Avery will eventually discover that that the Internet doesn’t have all the answers. Even if it takes her three books to do so.

Hard/paperbacks or eBooks? Ebooks.

In what atmosphere do you work best? A bright, sunny room with a caramel latte next to me. Or, wine. Wine works, too.

What is your favorite thing about Avery? Her resilient spirit.

Who or what motivates you? I just love to write. I wrote my first book, Dear Internet: It’s Me, Avery, just to prove to myself I could write an entire novel. And then I wondered what I used to do with all that free time!

Salty or sweet? I must choose???? Sweet.

What is your go-to reference book? Collins English Dictionary.

What would your readers be surprised to find out about you? I ran hurdles in high school. (Preparation for real life…)

Tell us about your guilty pleasure? Peanut butter on toast with chocolate chips on it. Or wine.

On your perfect day, what would you do? My husband and I would take our Welsh Springer Spaniel, Remy, for a long walk (and he wouldn’t growl at anyone). Enjoy a coffee on the patio outside (or wine, later in the day). Listen to the birds and appreciate the fact it’s not winter. Maybe go for a drive out to the county for a romantic dinner. And—somewhere in that day—there would be chocolate. Yes. Definitely chocolate.

What are you working on right now? I’m finishing the launch of the Avery Fowler 2.0 Trilogy. My goal was to put all three books up for sale after winning the rights to them back from my publisher. I’m happy with how they ended up and feel I’ve done my best by them. I’m anxious to get back to work on my new novel, The Detour. The main character is a man!

*****

**About the author: I’m chick lit author (and smart-ass blogger) Jennifer Ammoscato. My goal is to make you laugh so hard that I prop up the adult diaper industry in the process.

I live in a small, tucked-away corner in the amazing country of Canada. We love us some hockey and Tim Hortons coffee.

By day, I’m an intrepid writer/editor. By night, I fight crime the urge to organize closets, and to stuff myself with salted chocolate caramels.

I’m married to my wonderful husband, Ezio, and am the mother of two sons, Dante and Christian.

We all serve at the pleasure of our Welsh Springer Spaniel, Remy.

**Contact Jennifer: Facebook   Twitter   Website   Email

 

 

Filed Under: The Internet Made Me Do It (The Avery Fowler 2.0 Trilogy Book 2) Tagged With: Author Interview, Books, Chick Lit, Jennifer Ammoscato, Romance, The Internet Made Me Do It (The Avery Fowler 2.0 Trilogy Book 2), Women's Fiction

RELEASE DAY BLITZ & REVIEW: “The Brothers of Brigadier Station”

May 17, 2017 Leave a Comment

“The Brothers of Brigadier Station” by Sarah Williams

Blurb:

She came to the outback to marry the love of her life. She just didn’t expect him to be her fiancé’s younger brother.

When Meghan Flanagan, a vet-nurse from Townsville, moves to Brigadier Station in outback Queensland to marry the man of her dreams, she is shocked to discover that perhaps her fiancé isn’t the man she wants waiting for her at the altar. The man she’s destined to marry, just might be his younger brother.

Cautious of women after a disastrous past relationship, Darcy is happy living on his beloved cattle station, spending his spare time riding horses, going to rodeos and campdrafting. He didn’t expect the perfect woman to show up on his doorstep. Engaged to his brother.

With the wedding only hours away, Meghan must make the decision of a lifetime. But, her betrayal could tear the family apart. She knows all too well the pain of losing loved ones and being alone.

Now that she has the family she so desperately wants; will she risk losing it all?

Set in the drought stricken plains of Julia Creek, North Queensland and the coastal city of Townsville this is a rural romance that will leave you asking: Will she marry the right man, for the right reasons?

The Brothers of Brigadier Station is the first in the Brigadier Station series and can easily be read as a standalone. Each of Sarah’s stories are linked so you can find out what happens to the other brothers and your favourite characters in future books.

My Review:  Some readers shy away from sticky situations like this one, though I was intrigued. I’ve been searching for a country romance for a long time and this was exactly what I wanted! “The Brothers of Brigadier Station” starts quickly and I instantly fell in love with the storyline.

Meghan has a heart, so hurting anyone is hard on her, but she can’t help how she feels, even when it comes to brother vs. brother, much less the rest of her life. I’m not going to spoil it for anyone, but this book was sweet and sexy, and, at times, nail-biting. I definitely recommend it for a great summer read. Besides, what’s sexier than a cowboy?! While this is the first book in the series, I definitely look forward to reading more of the author’s books!

I give “The Brothers of Brigadier Station” 4 stars!

**Click HERE to get your copy of “The Brothers of Brigadier Station” now!

**About the author: Sarah Williams spent her childhood chasing sheep, riding horses and picking Kiwi fruit on the family orchard in rural New Zealand. After a decade travelling, Sarah moved to tropical North Queensland to enjoy the heat and humidity and play with Crocodiles.

When she’s not absorbed in her fictional writing world, Sarah is running after her family of four kids, one husband, two dogs and a cat. She helps to run the local writers centre and supports her peers achieve their publishing dreams.Sarah is regularly checking social media when she really should be cleaning.

Sarah is regularly checking social media when she really should be cleaning.

**Contact Sarah: Website   Facebook   Twitter

*****

**Click HERE to see other stops on Sarah’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tour!

Filed Under: Book Review, The Brothers of Brigadier Station Tagged With: Book review, Books, Chick Lit, Contemporary Romance, Country romance, Release Day Blitz, Sarah Williams, The Brothers of Brigadier Station, Women's Fiction

RELEASE BLITZ: “Brew or Die”

April 25, 2017 Leave a Comment

“Brew or Die” by Caroline Fardig, (the fourth book in the JAVA JIVE MYSTERIES series)

Blurb:

Nashville’s perkiest private eye—coffeehouse manager Juliet Langley—goes undercover in the party-planning industry to solve a suspicious death in this thrilling cozy mystery from USA Today bestselling author Caroline Fardig.

Inspired by her past sleuthing successes, Juliet Langley has officially joined the ranks of Nashville’s licensed private investigators. Her best friend, Pete Bennett, doesn’t worry that her detective work might interfere with her full-time job running his coffeehouse, Java Jive. He just wishes she would spend her free time rejoining the local music scene instead of tailing cheating spouses. But when one of Java Jive’s baristas, Shane, asks Juliet to look into the suspicious death of his fiancée, Pete encourages her to plow full steam ahead.

Since his fiancée died on the job, Shane suspects that her party-planning colleagues are up to something criminal—and will do anything to keep it quiet. After Juliet recruits Pete to go undercover with her at a wedding showcase, she discovers that white lace and black satin have a way of hiding big, fat secrets.

If that weren’t enough to fill her plate, her latest P.I. job has her crossing paths with her ex, Detective Ryder Hamilton. They’re barely on speaking terms, but to solve the case, they might have to cooperate. No matter where Juliet goes, she’s brewing up trouble.

**Click HERE to get “Brew or Die” now!

*****

**GIVEAWAY**

**Click HERE to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway**

*****

**About the author: Caroline Fardig is the USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR of the Java Jive Mysteries series and the Lizzie Hart Mysteries series. Fardig’s BAD MEDICINE was named one of the “Best Books of 2015” by Suspense Magazine. She worked as a schoolteacher, church organist, insurance agent, funeral parlor associate, and stay-at-home mom before she realized that she wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Born and raised in a small town in Indiana, Fardig still lives in that same town with an understanding husband, two sweet kids, two energetic dogs, and one malevolent cat.

**Contact Caroline: Website   Blog   Mailing List   Twitter   Facebook

Filed Under: Brew or Die Tagged With: #ReleaseDayBlitz, Books, Brew or Die, Caroline Fardig, Chick Lit, Java Jive Mysteries

EXCERPT: “Are You There Krishna? It’s Me, Reshma. Or Rachel. Or Whatever.: Essays on Talking to Ghosts, Accosting Celebrities, Getting High, Sexism, Race, and First-Generation Woes”

April 24, 2017 Leave a Comment

“Are You There Krishna? It’s Me, Reshma. Or Rachel. Or Whatever.: Essays on Talking to Ghosts, Accosting Celebrities, Getting High, Sexism, Race, and First-Generation Woes” by Rachel Khona

Blurb: Rachel knew even as a young child that she wasn’t like the rest of her Indian family. While her parents were plotting how she could make it into med school with her mediocre grades in chemistry and biology, she had other things on her mind, including such gems as:

· Why can’t she go to the temple on her period?
· Why don’t her Indian cousins like her?
· Why was it OK to be sexualized at a beauty pageant but not for herself?
· How can she straddle two cultures while retaining her sense of self?
· Why are women considered sluts and men considered studs?
· Why do people keep asking her if she was born in India?
· Should she wax down there?
· Why does she have crazy eyes?

After leaving home, Rachel got high in Amsterdam, met her pop singer idol in a bathroom, argued with a ghost, and got lost in the Pyrenees. But that didn’t stop her from questioning while men still tell her to smile. ‘Are You There Krishna? It’s Me, Reshma. Or Rachel. Or Whatever.’ weaves stories of Rachel’s life with observations on race, class, sex, feminism, and culture with humor and candor.

Excerpt

JUST A GIRL: YOGA, BINDIS, CULTURAL APPROPRIATION AND MY IDOL

My friends and I were lunching at a restaurant in Santa Monica when who comes in but Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale. Not too many people knew it, but Gwen Stefani was my secret best friend. As in, I knew we were best friends, she just didn’t know it. Yet. And now we were breathing the same fucking air. I hoped once we met she would realize how much fun I was and want to be my best friend too. We would have pillow fights and bedazzle our pants together. It would be pure unadulterated magic. A match made in heaven. Gwen and Gav were sitting three tables down from us in an otherwise empty restaurant. So I pretty much had an obstructed view of Gwen and her bright red lipstick.

“You guys!” I hissed to my friends.

“What is it?” Samantha asked.

“It’s Gwen-fucking-Stefani!”

“Where is she?” Samantha asked.

“The table behind us. Don’t look now!” Samantha and Selena both swiveled around to look immediately.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Selena responded. She returned to studying the menu.

“I’m sorry am I missing something? How can you guys be so calm at a time like this?”

“Honestly, I don’t think Gwen Stefani is that big of a deal,” Samantha responded, nonchalantly flipping her hair as perused the menu.

“Oh right, she’s not the fabulous fucking Jimmy Buffet,” I muttered. For some inexplicable reason, Samantha had a complete and total infatuation with Jimmy Buffet. How anyone could enjoy the music of someone who sang songs like “Cheeseburger in Paradise” and “Fruit Cakes” is beyond me.

The first time I saw the video for “Just a Girl” my brain almost exploded. After years of listening and watching men express themselves, it never occurred to me that women were largely missing from most of rock music. Though as a girl I often felt frustrated by my parents’ draconian Indian ways, my irritation was often only expressed by rebelling against everything they thought was appropriate, i.e. men with tattoos. I never actually freely vented my frustrations; I expressed vis-à-vis men.

I love the other female rock gods like Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, and Janis Joplin. But I could relate to Gwen. Gwen was a rocker, yet still a girlie girl. She was tough, yet vulnerable. She was a total babe, yet angry. Before Gwen, the only angry women I ever saw were considered granola, crazy, or Alanis Morissette. Nothing wrong with any of those descriptions, but why can’t a pissed off chick just be a human expressing an emotion? I loved how she could strut around in red lipstick and pin curls while fronting a band and belting out lyrics about her ex-boyfriend. Through her music, she expressed sadness, vulnerability, rage, and frustration. Our culture teaches us by and large that angry women are bitchy and ugly and attractive women are pleasant and docile.  But Gwen proved that wasn’t the case.

Plus, she wore bindis and had dated a cute Indian guy. Bonus points in my book. These days Gwen’s use of bindis might be deemed cultural appropriation by some, I never saw it that way. Cultural appropriation happens when one adopts part of a culture while dismissing other parts of it, stripping it of its cultural and religious context. Gwen had seriously dated Indian-American Tony Kanal for years. Her bindi-wearing seemed to come from a place of appreciating the culture of her boyfriend and less being trendy like girls at Coachella.

Besides bindis have pretty much lost all religious significance in India. Bindis are a fashion accessory among Indian women. If I wear one, I more concerned with whether it matches my sari or salwar kameez than my third eye. Now yoga, on the other hand, has been totally and completely hijacked.

Yoga is a 5000 + year Hindu practice that is just part of a larger system of beliefs that includes adherence to nonviolence, meditation, chanting, devotional love to God, and selfless action. Yoga is not about “sweating out the toxins,” (which is a make-believe concept anyway, that’s why you have a liver folks). It’s not meant to make you a size 2, though if it does get you into shape good for you. Yoga is not just about spouting off vague quotes (“live authentically”) or realizing you managed to stay calm when your dog took a dump in your shoe. The physical part of yoga was designed to prepare the body for long hours of meditation. The ultimate goal of the practice is union with the God and liberation from the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

In the proliferation and spread of yoga studios, yoga has become watered down, simplified, and in many cases whitewashed. People on Yelp whine about too much “chanting” or a class not being enough exercise, not understanding the true roots and meaning of this Hindu practice. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s awesome that so many people practice yoga. But please for the love of all that is holy, stop whitewashing it. It’s a Hindu practice. It’s a religious practice. Try to get something out of it besides stronger arms.

But anywhoozle, I am seriously digressing here. The point is I love Gwen. I wanted desperately to be her. Or just be her best friend.

I had to do something. But what? I didn’t want to be one of those annoying fans that bugged someone while they were eating. I’ve got it! I would wait until they are done with their meals and they go outside. I would sneak behind them and then I would ask Gavin to take a picture of Gwen and me. That way his cooties would be on my camera too, and I could sell it on eBay.

I picked at my arugula salad while I stole glances at Gwen. What was she eating? How did her lip color stay so fresh after eating? Did she use MAC? How often does she dye her roots? What are they talking about? Did she notice me? Has she realized yet that we are secret best friends?

After what seemed like two centuries had passed, the waiter finally handed them the bill. They settled up and got ready to leave. I quickly prepared myself with my camera in hand. I got up and stealthily tiptoed behind Gwen, expecting to go outside. Except Gavin made a right towards the door and walked outside, while Gwen veered left for the bathroom.

Now what? Was I seriously going to follow her to the bathroom? Was I that girl? And who was going to take the picture? There was no one in the restaurant. Oh fuck it, I thought. I’ve come this far. I decided to bite the bullet and talk to her.

Or maybe I should bust out into song to break the ice. I could see it now. I would sing one line, and Gwen would sing the other. We would harmonize together, and the whole restaurant would get up and mosh/dance.

But then again, I’m tone deaf. Maybe I should just ask her for a photo.

“Excuse me, Gwen I’m a huge fan, can I get a picture with you?”

“Um, sure,” Gwen replied looking surprised. She didn’t look terribly thrilled, which I found rather odd. Didn’t Gwen realize we were BFFs? Well even if she didn’t know, I bought every No Doubt album, so I figured she best suck it up and take a pic with me.

“Who’s going to take the picture?” she asked. I think she secretly hoped no one would come to my rescue. I couldn’t believe she wasn’t as stoked as I was to take a picture.

“Uh…” I looked around, hoping beyond hope that someone a waiter, a busboy, or I don’t know, King Neptune would come out of the nearby Pacific Ocean and snap our pic. Right at that moment, a little eighty-five-year-old lady hobbled around the corner heading towards the bathroom.

“Excuse me! Can you please take a picture of us?” I asked her with glee.

“Oh, I’m so sorry dear I can’t because of my arthritis. You see—-”

“OK fine whatever.” The old bat.

I turned to Gwen. “I’ll just take it myself.”

“OK.” I put the camera in my right hand and held it out as far as I could and stood on my tiptoes. As I’m 5’1, and Gwen is like 5’9, the height difference was significant, even though I was wearing two-inch heels.

“Thanks Gwen!”

“Sure dude no problem.” She turned and walked into the bathroom.

Now what do I do? I wondered. I didn’t want to seem like I was solely there to get her picture. We were secret best friends, but she clearly refuses to acknowledge our relationship. Well, fuck it, I’m over it. I don’t need her. For all she knew, I was on my way to the bathroom, and I happened to bump into her with my camera. And what if I had to pee too? It’s not like I am sitting around stalking celebrities all day. I can’t believe she would think I am just there to get her stupid picture.

So I walked into the two-stall bathroom to pee too. Gwen was peeing. Omigod, I could hear Gwen Stefani peeing! I felt a warmth engulf my heart. I never thought my life would be so glamorous! So what if we weren’t best friends? I had heard Gwen Stefani piss into a porcelain bowl. My life was now complete.

*****

**GIVEAWAY**

**Click HERE for your chance to win a print copy of “Are You There Krishna? It’s Me, Reshma. Or Rachel. Or Whatever.: Essays on Talking to Ghosts, Accosting Celebrities, Getting High, Sexism, Race, and First-Generation Woes”

*****

**About Rachel Khona: Once upon a time in an exotic land called New Jersey, Rachel used to dream of one day playing tambourine in an all-girl rock band. That never happened.

Instead she became a writer. She has written for The New York Times, The Washington Post, Playboy, Penthouse, Maxim, and Cosmopolitan among others.

When she’s not writing or designing, she is busy drinking wine and singing off key, bike riding, pretending she’s friends with Mindy Kaling and Amy Poehler, eating absurd amounts of cheese, or listening to rock music at an appallingly loud volume. Sometimes all at once.

**Get your copy of her book now!: Amazon

*****

**Click HERE to see other stops on Rachel’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tour!

Filed Under: Are You There Krishna? Tagged With: Are You There Krishna?, Books, Chick Lit, CLP Blog Tour, Excerpt, Giveaway, Rachel Khona

RELEASE DAY: “Playing House”

March 21, 2017 Leave a Comment

“Playing House” by Laura Chapman

Blurb:

She’s a work in progress . . .

Bailey Meredith has had it. As an assistant at a prestigious interior design firm, she’s tired of making coffee and filing invoices. She’ll do just about anything to get out from under the paperwork and into the field for real experience. Then she sees an ad for a job that seems too good to be true.

He’s a fixer upper . . .

Wilder Aldrich knew she would be perfect for the crew the moment he saw her. His hit home improvement show only hired the best, and Bailey had potential written all over her. It isn’t just her imaginative creativity and unmatched work ethic that grabs his attention. There’s just something about her.

With chemistry on screen, it’s only a matter of time before sparks fly behind the scenes as well. But with Bailey’s jaded views on romance and a big secret that could destroy Wilder and everyone he cares about are either of them willing to risk it all for love?

**Click HERE to get your copy of “Playing House” now!

Filed Under: Playing House - Release Day Tagged With: Books, Chick Lit, Laura Chapman, New Release, Romance, Women's Fiction

Review and Excerpt of “Defining Her”

March 20, 2017 1 Comment

“Defining Her” by Samantha March

Blurb: Nellie Hawthorne is a woman who has it all. A devoted husband, her own business, a wealthy lifestyle. But the Nellie she is now is much different from her past. A past filled with abuse, addiction, and men. Nellie’s carefully constructed new life is suddenly in jeopardy when a blast from the past emerges in her small town and her overbearing mother-in-law starts pushing for grandchildren and questions start being asked. A budding new friendship presents itself at an opportune time, and a once friendless Nellie finds herself growing closer to Prue Doherty.

Prue Doherty is the quintessential good girl. Always making the right decisions, always playing it safe. Until she meets a man that could change all of that. Still reeling from a devastating breakup and betrayal that had her fleeing from Chicago and settling into suburb life with her mom close by, Prue finds herself in a damaging funk. But everything changes when she befriends Nellie Hawthorne.

Nellie is trying to escape her past. Prue wants that perfect future. While both women strive to change their lives, they continue to cling to the past. But what defines us? Who we were then . . . or who we are trying to be now? Lies, manipulation, and deceit are woven throughout the pages of this edgy women’s fiction novel, with an ending you won’t see coming.

**Grab your copy of “Defining Her” now: Amazon   Barnes & Noble   Kobo

My Review: 

I’ve been a fan of Samantha March for a very long time, so I was very excited to receive an ARC of “Defining Her.” I read almost half of it the first night–it was that good!

Coming from a horrific background as a child and young adult, Nellie’s life is quite different now that she’s a married woman and a business professional. Having the pressure from her husband and mainly her mother-in-law about having a baby, I felt like when Nellie befriends Prue, it’s a way of a distraction. Like Nellie, Prue had a rough time as a younger woman, but not nearly as bad. In the beginning, I felt sorry for her and even liked her, but toward the end, I was a little surprised at how she handled herself. Maybe she was jealous of Nellie’s life, I don’t know, but in her case, it was easy to understand that her past caught up with her.

Over time, I thought it was interesting to see how the bond between them grows, but what I really loved was the ending, and how certain secrets are divulged. I don’t give any spoilers, but I was so happy with how everything ended and would love to see this book as part of a series.

While this book was dark in a lot of cases, the mystery of secrets between the women and their past was written beautifully. If you’re looking for a quick read over the weekend, I recommend “Defining Her.”

I give “Defining Her” 5 stars!

*****

EXCERPTS

From Chapter 1

Nellie

I pulled up the schedule and minimized it to a small square, dragging it up to the top of my screen. I loved keeping an eye on the appointments, seeing the client name turn purple upon checking in, then yellow when their room was cleaned after they were finished. Our salon had three Versa Spas and sixteen regular tanning beds, all varying in speed and power. Mondays could be a fairly busy day, as people have their high hopes for the week, their mental to-do lists of how to get it started off right. Even during summer season the tanning salon stayed busy. Heaven forbid one of the suburbanites looked less than stellar taking their children to the pool or their summer activities and camps.

I blew out a breath. I could feel my old self threatening to peek through my carefully worked on new persona. My Mrs. Hawthorne persona. I wasn’t the old Nellie. I wasn’t.

I turned back to the computer, watching the check-ins and check-outs start to happen. I scanned the schedule again. Mostly familiar names in there. One in particular stood out to me on that day. Prue.

I clicked on her profile, which opened up the client information, including their photo we scanned from their driver’s license. Yep, it was the woman I’d been observing the past . . . oh, two weeks or so. Cute blonde bob, though longer now than in her picture. Bright green eyes. Petite. I remember being the one to give her the tour when she first joined as a member. I towered over her, and I’m 5’7.

She stuck out to me because she seemed so . . . sad. Something in her piercing green eyes stuck out to me that day. I didn’t know what her story was and I knew it wasn’t my business. We all deal with our own shit in our own way. But something . . . just gave me a pause. I never really had an empathic bone in my body, and I wasn’t the girlfriend type. I tried doing that whole have chicks on my side that I can count on and have each other’s backs years ago and that didn’t pan out. Nah. It’s just me and Harrison now. And our neighbors and Harrison’s work friends and the girls at the salon, but these are all acquaintances or employees. Not friends.

Working on a graphic for the Labor Day sale distracted me from my thoughts, and I forgot about Prue and much of anything else. I worked on a color scheme that popped, a layout that was aesthetically pleasing, and squeezing in all the pertinent details to the sale. At noon on the dot, my phone gave a chime. Time to break for lunch. If I didn’t schedule my reminders, I would forget to eat all together. And yes, I cared about my body and my health and I worked out, but I did not skip meals. I was not anorexic or bulimic, thank you so much. I was healthy.

I drove to the deli and picked up a typical lunch—turkey and cheese on wheat bread, loaded with spinach, green peppers, lettuce, a few pickles, and low-fat Italian. I asked for an apple and, back in the office, grabbed a Smart Water out of my personal mini fridge. I watched YouTube videos while I ate—everything from how to perfect my winged liner to design tips to music videos. This was my time to zone out. To forget work and deadlines and schedules and invoices and just chill.

At ten to one, I started cleaning up my mess. Throwing my wrappers away. Wiping up some apple juice dribbled next to my MacBook. Clicking out of YouTube and getting back to the daily schedule. And, just like clockwork, I watched Prue’s name become highlighted. She tanned Monday and Thursday at one o’clock each day. Ten minutes a time, though she stayed in the room for nearly twenty.

I headed out to the front desk, while Kerri took off for the day. The next employee, Sasha, was scheduled at two o’clock, so during this hour, I sat out front and checked people in and out and cleaned rooms. I loved my job. My career. My business. And while no, I didn’t need the salon to help us financially, I loved having a schedule. A normalcy to a life that had rarely seen any. A purpose.

“Have a good rest of your day, Kerri. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure thing, Nellie. Catch you on the flip.” Kerri waved enthusiastically and headed out the door, gaudy pink Coach purse slung over her shoulder, already thumbing away on her ginormous cell phone. I made a mental note to buy my best and favorite employee a real designer purse this year as her Christmas bonus. Coach was so . . . basic.

I shook my head as I took a seat behind the reception desk. Listen to me! Coach was basic. How so much could change in so little time. If you had told me this would be my life at twenty-nine not even ten years ago, I would have laughed in your face. Or tried to rob you.

I looked up when I heard a noise and saw Prue approaching the desk, head down, car keys in hand.

“Thanks for coming in!” I said cheerily, a smile on my face.

She glanced back at me, just for a moment, but I saw the tears slipping down her face before she managed to put her sunglasses on. “Thanks,” she practically whispered, before she was gone.

I frowned, looking at the screen. I checked out her room on the computer, then proceeded back to room 8 to give it a clean. Wiping down the bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about this particular client. Why was she giving me the vibe that I should . . . help her? Offer her a shoulder to cry on or at least just someone to talk to? Maybe she was like me and never had a real friend she could count on. Maybe I could be that person for someone. Maybe making a new friend was just what I needed right now. To remind me that I had changed my life for the better, and I could still be that better person. Maybe the timing was perfect, what with my past threatening to return. This was the life I ran away to. I had to keep it together.

From Chapter 2

Prue

Once back home, I had just over an hour to get showered and changed and to the school. My mom, Jean Doherty, was the principal of Eakwood Elementary School, one of the three elementary schools in this small town. School had only been in session for two weeks but I found myself there three days a week helping out. They got unexpectedly short-staffed in several places right before the school bell rang for the first time, so I was filling in. Because I didn’t have anything else going on in my life. Right.

I was a court reporter and worked hard at my job. But it wasn’t your typical 9-5 desk job. Some days I worked in the courtroom from eight in the morning to two in the afternoon without a break. Some days I worked solely from home, transcribing notes and proofreading the depo. Not very often would you find me in the office of my employer, Swank and Marty, because it simply wasn’t needed and now it was too far to travel. Just three blocks west of Michigan Avenue, when I lived in Chicago I was there much more often, simply because I enjoyed being there and around my co-workers. That changed real quick when I learned one of my office-friends, Brandi, was sleeping with my boyfriend. That put a real damper on the office morale, especially when I learned she moved into the house with him that I cosigned my name to on the mortgage. Yeah. That stung.

After my relationship imploded, I hightailed it out of Chicago and to Oamark Park, to be closer to my mom. Since my dad died three years prior and I was their sole offspring, I often wanted to be closer to her. It was only about an hour drive from here to Chicago and I came back nearly every weekend to be by her or bring her into Chicago, but it was different being just minutes away from each other now. And being that I was at her school so much, we saw each other on nearly a daily basis. I wasn’t complaining because I loved my mom and our relationship was fantastic. I just didn’t . . . expect life to turn out this way.

It was all planned out. I had been with Deacon Moore for three years. We were in love. We met through mutual friends at a birthday party one night and had our first date just days later at Portillo’s. He was everything to me. My best friend. My biggest supporter. He gave me shoulder rubs when I was hunched over my steno machine all day and night. He brought me foot-long sandwiches when I was in the courtroom and only given a ten-minute lunch break. He eventually started working in my office, which I loved. He came home with me and charmed my mother. I thought a proposal was coming anytime. We bought a house together. It was my own version of a fairy tale.

Until it all came crashing down. Turned out the perfect Deacon wasn’t quite as perfect as I thought he was. He had been seeing Brandi on the side for nearly eight months. Eight months. We signed the mortgage papers as he was sleeping with another woman. How . . . how could someone do that to a person? And why? Why make me waste so much time and money and energy when he didn’t even want to be with me? What was the point?

Though money was never really much of a concern for me—Dad had a good life insurance policy and court reporters made a better-than-decent salary—but Deacon was still slowly draining my finances. I paid for the home inspection, the realtor fees, the upfront taxes. I paid the loan payments on the new car “we” purchased together but only Deacon still drove. Deacon and Brandi had missed three mortgage payments and the bank called me to get that paid because my name was still on the mortgage. All that nonsense has led us to court, which means . . . more money being drained out of my account. I couldn’t believe I made such a mistake. That I was so easily fooled. That I was betrayed by my lover, my best friend. Betrayed by a co-worker and someone who I was at least friendly with, if not real friends. And the fact that it totally upended my life was just the cherry on top.

I went from thinking a marriage proposal was on the way, moving into a beautiful home, bringing a new puppy into our lives to living in a small cramped apartment with my finances in jeopardy. Suing my ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend to try to gain back some of the money that I spent paying their freaking mortgage. It just wasn’t fair.

I pulled up to the school and parked in the employee parking lot. Walking in, my thoughts were still on how my life turned so quickly. What did I do to deserve such deceit? I was the good girl, the good person. I had morals and always tried doing the right thing. Karma scared the crap out of me. I was the dependable, reliable one. How was this fair, karma? Huh? It wasn’t. It just simply wasn’t. And that infuriated me. What was the point of always making the right choices if this is what I got in the end?

*****

**About the author: Samantha March is an author, editor, publisher, blogger, and all around book lover. She runs the popular book/women’s lifestyle blog ChickLitPlus, which keeps her bookshelf stocked with the latest reads and up to date on all things beauty, fashion and fitness. In 2011 she launched her independent publishing company Marching Ink and has five published novels – Destined to Fail, The Green Ticket, A Questionable Friendship, Up To I Do and Defining Her, and one holiday novella, The Christmas Surprise. You can also find her on Youtube sharing beauty reviews and creating makeup tutorials. When she isn’t reading, writing, or vlogging, you can find her cheering for the Green Bay Packers and Chicago Cubs. Samantha lives in Iowa with her husband and Vizsla puppy.

**Contact Samantha: Instagram   Youtube   Twitter   Snapchat   Facebook   Amazon   Blog

**Click HERE to grab all of Samantha’s books for $0.99 now (for a limited time)!

*****

**GIVEAWAY**

**Click HERE to enter the in the Rafflecopter giveaway!

*****

**Click HERE to see more stops on Samantha’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours!

*****

Filed Under: Defining Her - Review & Excerpt Tagged With: #CLPBlogTours, Books, Chick Lit, Contemporary Fiction, Defining Her, Giveaway, New Release, Samantha March, Women's Fiction

BOOK FEATURE: “Playing House”

March 14, 2017 1 Comment

“Playing House” by Laura Chapman

Blurb:

She’s a work in progress. . .

Bailey Meredith has had it. As an assistant at a prestigious interior design firm, she’s tired of making coffee and filing invoices. She’ll do just about anything to get out from under the paperwork and into the field for real experience. Then she sees an ad for a job that seems too good to be true.

He’s a fixer upper . . .

Wilder Aldrich knew she would be perfect for the crew the moment he saw her. His hit home improvement show only hired the best, and Bailey had potential written all over her. It isn’t just her imaginative creativity and unmatched work ethic that grabs his attention. There’s just something about her.

With chemistry on screen, it’s only a matter of time before sparks fly behind the scenes as well. But with Bailey’s jaded views on romance and a big secret that could destroy Wilder and everyone he cares about are either of them willing to risk it all for love?

**Available on March 21! Available on: Amazon   Apple   Barnes & Noble   Kobo

*****

“PLAYING HOUSE” EXCERPT

Keeping a close distance, she followed Waverly up the cracked path to the house. Bailey took quick mental notes of her surroundings. The exterior needed a lot of work. The sagging roof missing gutters made her think they’d find the inside in similar disarray. They stepped through the front door, nearly tripping over Wilder Aldrich, who was measuring the entryway.

“Hey!” He sprang to his feet and out of their way. “What did I tell you about waiting until I gave you the all clear?”

“You were taking for-frickin’-ever, and some of us were freezing our tits off.” She pursed her lips and took on a warrior stance, seemingly daring him to say something else.

Conceding victory to her, Wilder turned and flashed an apologetic grin at Bailey. “Hey.” He offered a hand. Warmth permeated through the thin material of her glove. “Welcome to Casa de Waverly.”

Giving him a smug grin, Waverly sipped her coffee and faced Bailey. “Do you have a smart phone?”

Bailey stared blankly for a second, still dazzled by seeing Wilder up close. But she quickly snapped to attention and dug her phone out of her coat pocket.

“Good,” Waverly said after inspecting it. “While you’re on the job, I’d like you to snap some photos for our social media accounts. I’ll want to vet everything before we post it, but we need to start building the buzz for the next season while we’re filming. In exchange, we’ll cover your phone payments to take care of your data usage. Understood?”

“I can do that.”

“Good. Now . . .” She pulled out her own phone. It was the latest model that had come out on the market a month ago. With all of its reported bells and whistles, it put Bailey’s poor phone to shame. “I’m going to make a quick call. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and we can get started on,” she gestured around her, “this mess.”

She spun on her heel and waltzed out of the room, cooing into the phone.

Wilder cleared his throat, and Bailey turned to give him her full attention. She estimated he was only a couple of years older than herself—maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. He looked younger in real life than he did on TV. He was leaner and a little shorter—though she still had to crane her neck a little to meet his gaze.

He was also more handsome. Not the GQ model, your tongue-sticks-to-the-top-of-your-mouth kind of sexy. But he was hot in the same way the guy you sat next to in Chemistry was. It was enough to distract you from formulas and Bunsen burners every so often, but not enough that you’d ever set the lab on fire or forget to finish your final exam.

So far, he seemed much more serious. Where was the guy who scared Waverly with a stuffed dummy in a closet in the last episode she’d watched before calling an end to the marathon?

He was, she realized, studying her every bit as closely, with those hazel eyes speckled with green. Noting that, she didn’t feel quite as rude taking mental notes on the man in front of him.

At least she looked good. She’d laid out three outfits that morning in the hotel room. The first was a long, silky turquoise tunic that she’d paired with a pair of black leggings and knee-high boots. It was similar to the clothes Waverly favored on screen—only hers weren’t name-brand knockoffs. Then she had the casual jeans, a gray T-shirt that she could dress-up with a navy blue blazer. And there was option three: dark-wash, fit jeans, a chambray shirt, and a scarf. It was an ensemble that fell somewhere in the middle. It was the one that looked the most like her when she inspected herself in the mirror.

It was the one that felt most like her now in the middle of the foyer.

She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Did he see a confident young woman ready to tackle major projects adeptly? Or did he see someone who was desperate to create, no matter what happened? Both were correct, but which one shone through right now?

Like a light switch, that triggered something in her. She offered her hand again. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Bailey Meredith.”

*****

GUEST POST

HOW IS PLAYING HOUSE DIFFERENT FROM YOUR OTHER BOOKS AND WHAT MADE YOU WRITE IT?

Playing House marks a bit of a change for me as a writer. Though it still carries the comedy—and hopefully whimsy—of my previous books like The Marrying Type and the Queen of the League series, this story is different. It focuses primarily on the love story in line with contemporary romances. Plus it’s steamier—there’s no fading to black here. (Sorry, not sorry, Mom and Dad.)

That’s why I’m calling it a sexy romantic comedy. You’ll still find laughs and giggly situational elements, but there are also a few scenes that made me blush to write.

I didn’t add these scenes to be gratuitous by any means, or because I was trying to be edgy. I just realized—once this story came to fruition—that it called for some spice. Because sometimes when a woman cares for a man, and he feels the same admiration for her, they want to express it in a physical sense.

As a reader and writer, I was raised on great love stories told by the likes of Nora Roberts, Julie Garwood, and Judith McNaught. Not only were they some of my favorite writers, but they also became my teachers. It felt like a natural profession to shift my writing more squarely under the romance umbrella, because these stories are among my favorite. That’s not to say I won’t return to another chick lit story or sweet romance in the future. But right now, my current roster of books to-write tends to lean in this direction. It’s been a lot of fun.

As for why I felt the need to write Playing House in particular . . .

The idea for Playing House came to me the weekend after I published First & Goal, the first book in the Queen of the League series, back in September 2015. I was attending a conference in Indianapolis for my day job at a museum. My co-worker and I, by mutual agreement, kept our TV tuned into HGTV whenever we were in the room. When we weren’t in lectures or meetings, we were in front of that TV. It amounted to hours and hours of home décor, home purchasing, and so on.  At a certain point, I started to wonder . . . how much of it was real? The work, the relationships, all of it—how much of it is true and in the moment, and how much is manufactured for TV?

And I let my imagination wander.

By the end of the weekend, I whispered to my co-worker that I was pretty sure I had an idea for my next stand-alone novel. So I did what I always do when I have a story idea. I obsessed about it and researched it. I ended up reading blogs and message boards to answer some of my questions about what happens when the cameras are off. I also watched way more hours of some of my favorite HGTV shows like Fixer Upper, Flip or Flop, and House Hunters. By the time National Novel Writing Month came around in November, I had the gist of my story.

Even with all of my watching and reading, the characters and situations are original in Playing House and it is a work of fiction. I did not use any of the real-life stars as inspiration, nor did I take any true stories and make them my own. The only thing I really stole was the consistent element I saw throughout every post: most of the work happens when the cameras are off and there’s always more to the whole story than what we see on TV.

I hope readers will enjoy reading about the world in Playing House as much as I did imagining and writing it.

*****

**About the author: Laura Chapman is the author of First & Goal, Going for Two, Three & Out, The Marrying Type, and Playing House. A native Nebraskan, she loves football, Netflix marathons, and her cats, Jane and Bingley. She loves talking to readers. You can connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can also get the latest news from her website, blog, and monthly newsletter.

*****

**GIVEAWAY**

This month, during the Playing House blog tour, you can enter the Rafflecopter below for a chance to win one of 1 free Audible copy each of The Marrying Type, First & Goal,  Going for Two or 1 $20 Amazon gift card.

**Click HERE to enter the giveaway!

Filed Under: Playing House Tagged With: Chick Lit, Coming Soon, Excerpt, Giveaway, Laura Chapman, Playing House, Romance, Women's Fiction

  • « Previous Page
  • Page 1
  • …
  • Page 4
  • Page 5
  • Page 6
  • Page 7
  • Page 8
  • Next Page »

Primary Sidebar

Recent Features

BOOK FEATURE: “A Jingle Valley Wedding” by Martha Reynolds

COVER REVEAL: “Then You Happened” by K. Bromberg

COVER REVEAL: “Love at The Bluebird” by Aurora Rose Reynolds and Jessica Marin

Chick Lit Chat HQ’s Wicked Good Hop

BOOK FEATURE: “Let It Be Me” by Laura Chapman

See More

Footer

For inquiries

Click HERE to email us now!

Follow Us

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • X

Copyright © 2026 · Studio Mommy Themes · Custom Scene Images

Copyright © 2026 · Adore Me on Genesis Framework · Powered by WordPress.com. · Log in

 

Loading Comments...