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I’m Going on a Book Tour!

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Hey, everyone, and happy Friday! It’s been quite busy, fun, and sometimes hectic here in my world (dealing with an inner ear problem that has caused me to experience vertigo, which isn’t fun, going to see the last George Strait concert with my sister–thank goodness I was feeling okay that night, and working on another draft of my next book, Cards from Khloe’s Flower Shop), but things are looking up, and I have some awesome news to share with you.

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Starting this Monday, I’m going on my first book tour with Chick Lit Plus, and I can’t be more excited! Also, from the 16th thru the 30th, you can get your copy of “The Right Design” for only $0.99 (only on Kindle and Nook)!

Purchase links: Amazon   Barnes & Noble

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Be sure to check the following dates to see all the stops, or click HERE to go to my CLP Blog Tour page:

June 16th – Keep Calm and Blog On – Review

June 17th – Relatively Yours – Guest Post & Excerpt

June 18th – eBook Addict – Guest Post

June 19th – Storm Goddess Book Reviews – Review & Q&A

June 20th – Karen’s Korner – Review

June 23rd – Jiha’s File – Review

June 24th – Samantha March – Q&A & Excerpt

June 25th – Clippings in the Shed – Guest Post

June 27th – Elke Feuer – Guest Post & Excerpt

June 30th – Chick Lit Plus – Review

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Have a wonderful weekend, family, friends and followers!

Lydia Laceby

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About author, Lydia Laceby: Lydia Laceby is a co-founder of the fiction book blog, Novel Escapes. Since 2009, she has read and reviewed as much women’s fiction as humanly possible while designing, organizing and expanding the blog from two reviewers to seven.

In her spare time, she knits cute baby hats, would pick cheese over chocolate, and longs for the days she was able to cheat on her allergy free diet.

Lydia began her career writing a soap opera at the tender age of thirteen. It never aired. Redesigning Rose is her first novel.

**Contact Lydia: Blog/Website   Facebook   Twitter   GoodReads

**Click HERE to buy “Redesigning Rose” on Amazon, or click HERE to buy it on Chapters-Indigo!

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INTERVIEW

Describe your writing style in five sentences: The writer in me is kind of at a loss for words with this one. Can I say five words instead of sentences? Humorous. Concise. Fun. Romantic and Readable.

Salty or sweet? Salty! But I do love a good combo of the two, peanut butter and chocolate being one of my favorites!

How did you come up with the title of “Redesigning Rose?” I wanted gardening to come into play in some way because there is a strong gardening theme in the book, and I wanted some form of renewal and growth portrayed because the main character, Rose, goes through a massive change and stage of renewal and growth. One day when I was playing with title words – I had several pages of ideas – I stumbled upon Redesigning Rose and it stuck. I had only intended it to be my working title, but as the novel progressed it seemed to fit it more and more, so I decided to keep it.

When did you know you wanted to be a writer? When I was eleven or twelve. I began writing a soap opera. Apparently I knew everything there was to know about love. Ha!

At what time of day do you work the best? Mid-day. But I try to cram it in whenever I can.

Do you have a writing ritual? Not particularly. Lately I’ve been writing on Fridays because I now have it off, and weekends. I started writing on my subway commute this week. I’m kind of all over the place at the moment.

Which term do you like the best, “chick lit” or “women’s fiction”? I like them both. I’ve always liked the term chick lit because I think it’s fun and catchy and cute. I’m not sure I’d categorize Redesigning Rose as chick lit though because everyone has their own definition of the term and some might think that makes it light and fluffy, and while it is to a certain degree with humor in others it’s quite serious.

What is the one book that you could read more than once? I’ve read Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett at least ten times. It’s my absolute favorite book and I was pleasantly surprised when I enjoyed the mini-series when it was finally made as well. Usually books made into movies never turn out well for me.

How did you celebrate when “Redesigning Rose” was published? If I remember correctly there was lots of Prosecco involved and my hubby brought me home flowers, the bubbly and some chocolate. It was a great night, and I can’t wait to do it again!

If you weren’t an author, you’d be a…: Detective or auditor. I’m a stickler for detail and adherence to the rules. I notice the odd and unusual and can figure out cause and effect like nobody’s business. It’s my specialty.

What is the best advice you’ve been given? To give a firm handshake.

What are you working on right now? My current work-in-progress is a about a heroine who has an unusual way of dealing with conflict. One day her method implodes and every angry and annoyed thought she’s ever had is exposed to the very people she’s been keeping them from turning her life upside down.

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RedesigningRoseCoverPicBlurb of “Redesigning Rose”:

Rose Parker’s husband has been lying. About everything.

When a conversation with her husband triggers questions, Rose Parker uncovers alarming answers that shatter her perfect life. But it is only when she shoves her belongings in her SUV and drives off that Rose realizes just how far from perfect her life actually was. She has nowhere to turn.

While debating between distressing sleeping arrangements–her mother’s house full of questions or a hotel room with too much solitude–Rose bumps into an acquaintance from her gardening class and allows bubbly, exuberant Becky to indulge her in a wild night full of whiskey, weeping, and whispered confidences. Suddenly, Rose has a new friend, a roof over her head, and two gorgeous men moving her out of her marital home.

As Rose struggles to settle into her new life, she remains determined to comprehend her past. And with time and distance and especially wine, comes knowledge. Frank wasn’t the only one lying to her. Rose was lying to herself.

Excerpt

Frank looked the same. He hadn’t grown two heads or horns and his face wasn’t green. He didn’t look like a monster, he looked like a man. Like the man I fell in love with, the man who’d taken my heart. And then stomped on it.

I stood in the foyer and shifted my weight from foot to foot. Frank dragged a hand through his dark hair, the same gesture he had made when he’d first asked me out that frigid, rainy November day. We had bumped into each other, or rather the unruly umbrellas we both wielded against raging winds and sideways sleet did, while we both sought shelter under a toy store awning. We flattened ourselves against the display window, full of Christmas decorations and gift ideas, and thrust our umbrellas out to create a shield.

“Do you think we can risk getting to the coffee shop without drowning, or should we stay here and risk becoming icebergs?” he said, pointing to the water pooling at our feet.

My teeth chattered as I laughed. He was so handsome, and after we chatted easily over hot chocolate, saying “no” wasn’t an option when he ran his hand through his hair and asked me to meet him for dinner the following evening.

It felt like centuries ago.

He plucked at the side of his glasses and raised them.

“You’re wearing your glasses?” I said, surprised because he avoided them like they were the same wedgie-inducing instruments of his youth. Frank had to be freshly shaved, contact-lens wearing, and impeccably dressed at all times. He was a thousand times worse than a woman primping before a casual dinner, let alone a special event.

He shrugged. Either he had lost a contact, didn’t care about my presence, or wanted me to think he was comfortable, that we were comfortable. I couldn’t decipher which.

I released a long sigh.

“I’m so sorry, Rose. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have told you. About the money, about everything.” His face flamed crimson. We both knew what “everything” meant. And we both knew he would never have admitted that, even with his saying it now.

“It’s over,” I said, shocking myself with the absolute finality my voice carried.

“But we can work on it. We can get counseling. Don’t give up on us,” he pleaded, reaching his hand out.

I flinched and yanked my arm to my side. I looked away and noticed a paper-wrapped bouquet on the kitchen counter.

Frank’s eyes trailed mine.

I strode down the hall and stopped. The kitchen sparkled. The dishwasher hummed. My houseplants hadn’t shriveled. Had he hired a cleaning lady? There was no way he did this himself.

Frank picked up the bouquet. “I’m really sorry, Rose. I got your favorite flowers.”

I shoved the package away. My eyes landed on another item cluttering the counter.

A Tiffany’s box. And it was far from tiny. The more substantial the gift, the more colossal the transgression.

Frank picked up the package and held it out with a wide grin and slight shrug of his shoulders.

I smacked the box out of his hand, turned, and stalked back down the hall. Frank’s guilt gift squealed across the ceramic tiles before bouncing off the wall with a thud.

“Rose? Rose, wait,” he said, jogging to catch up to me.

I whipped around. “I need to come back and get some more things. Maybe this weekend. I’ll leave the key in the mailbox. It would be better if you weren’t here.”

“But…”

“Did you ever even love me, Frank?”

Hurt flickered across his face. And then fear. “I did. I still do. Please, Rose. Don’t do this. I need you. I love you.”

I stared at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t believe you.”

I wrenched open the door and stumbled to the driveway. The sound of our front door slamming echoed down the street. I lurched to the truck and snatched at the door handle, terrified of an untimely encounter with a neighbor. My sweaty fingers slipped.

“Shit. Fuck,” I swore like Becky was inadvertently teaching me to while I hopped around flicking my wrist. I’d hacked off half of my index fingernail. Across the street, Mrs. Mendleson’s lilacs wiggled. I froze, petrified she would saunter over and comment on my absence. I sneaked a peek while reattempting the handle. Emerald eyes and black bangs.

“Becky,” I hissed.

“Just thought I’d go for a walk,” she said, rushing over and pushing me around to the passenger side. She shoved me up into the seat and buckled me in. I slumped forward and moaned the entire way home while Becky rubbed my back.

Frank didn’t even bother coming outside.

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**GIVEAWAY**

Click HERE to enter to win a $50 Amazon Gift Card

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**Click HERE to see other stops of Lydia’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours!**

Dangled Carat

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“Dangled Carat” by Hilary Grossman

Blurb: Hilary had gotten used to dating the commitment-phobic Marc, thirteen years her senior. They had a great relationship–why rush into things? She saw no need to pressure him for marriage, believing that when the time was right, he would propose. But after they had been together for four years, their friends decided to take matters into their own hands, pushing Marc to propose and making Hilary realize how much she really did want to marry the man that she loved. Unfortunately, Marc still wasn’t ready–and their friends’ meddling in the form of a faux engagement party led to a disastrous New Year’s Eve that brought their relationship to an inevitable turning point.

Excerpt:

They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.  But I swear, the way to a girl’s heart is through her closet.  And this closet was the kind of closet that dreams were made of.

“You like?” he asked.

“Like?” I asked.  “Like isn’t the word for it.  This closet is bigger than my bedroom!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice. I thought you’d like it.” He turned around.  As I followed him out of the closet, all I could think of was how I wished I could have stayed in that closet forever.  That’s how nice it was.

Who am I kidding?  All I could picture was how amazing it would be if I could live here….

Marc didn’t lead me downstairs.  Instead he walked over to the sliding glass door which opened onto the balcony.  He grabbed my hand and guided me outside.  The smell of the sea was so strong.  “I love this smell,” I remarked as I inhaled deeply.  “And look at the white caps from the crashing wave,” I said as I pointed.  “They’re beautiful.”

“I think someone else is more beautiful,” he said as he moved a little closer to me. I offered him a sly smile in return.  After a few moments of gazing at the ocean in silence, he placed his right hand on the small of my back and his fingers slid under my tee-shirt and slowly across.  His gentle caress stopped when he reached my side.  He squeezed gently.  A small electric current jolted through my body.  I am sure I wasn’t the only one who felt it, but unfortunately he remembered about that drink, and loosened his grip all too quickly.

HilaryGrossman**About author, Hilary Grossman:

Hilary Grossman dated a guy so commitment-phobic that she was able to write a book about their relationship. She is currently the CFO of a beverage alcohol importer and lives on Long Island.

**Contact Hilary: Blog   Facebook – author page   Facebook – blog page   Twitter

**Buy “Dangled Carat”: Amazon   Barnes & Noble – print

**GIVEAWAY**

Click HERE to enter to win a $35 Amazon Gift Card and a $25 Victoria Secret Gift Card!

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**Click HERE to check out other stops on Hilary’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours!

A Questionable Friendship

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“A Questionable Friendship” by Samantha March

Blurb: Brynne Ropert and Portland Dolish have been best friends since being paired as roommates in college. Seven years later they are now twenty-five, married, and living in Maine–– but the two women couldn’t be more different. Brynne finds fulfillment in her life as a wife, mother and owner of a small café and bookshop, but is struggling to expand her family. Portland is still coping with her mother’s death during her childhood, and her marriage is unraveling before her eyes. Portland envies her friend’s seemingly stable and easy life while Brynne doesn’t understand the growing distance between them and cannot begin to guess what secret Portland is hiding about her husband and crumbling marriage. While one woman feels shut out, the other enters into a web of lies to protect herself.

A Questionable Friendship explores what really makes someone a true friend, a support system, a sister. How much trust goes into a friendship and when is being a friend not enough? Brynne and Portland’s story will attempt to answer those questions, and show that happily ever after isn’t in the cards for everyone.

Excerpt:

I lay in bed by myself that night, as Trent said he still had some reports to look at. I flipped onto my stomach, my favorite sleeping position, and tried to will myself to sleep. But my mind wouldn’t shut off. I flashed to the papers I found in Trent’s desk last night, purely on accident. I had never thought to snoop on my husband of two years. I was trying to find our tax returns from last year to give to the accountant, as we were severely behind and the April deadline was just around the corner. I had tried calling Trent to see where they were, but his phone was going to straight to voicemail. I knew he was driving home and sometimes his service cut in and out, so I didn’t think anything of it. I decided to find the papers myself, mostly out of boredom and the need to do something.

Trent’s office in our 2200 square foot ranch home was on the first floor, all the way to the east. I rarely ventured in there as I had no reason too, only popping in when Trent was working. It felt a little foreign being there, but I sat at his desk chair and looked around me. His desk wasn’t just some shoddy little thing tucked into the corner, no, the desk ran almost the full length of the wall, big enough for three people to easily fit at. He had one desktop computer set up and a laptop as well, and he carried yet another laptop with him on business trips. A printer that doubled as a scanner sat on one corner, and a fax machine on another. He had multiple calendars hung up with agendas scribbled on the majority of the dates, and another smaller calendar that sat to the right of the desktop. It was opened to that date, March 14, and scribbled on there was “Petosi.” He had been in that town for the past two nights, and was due home late in the night.

After some searching, I finally found the drawer that seemed to hold important records. Our passports were in there, our wedding license, birth certificates, and deed to the house. I found the titles to both our vehicles, but no tax information. I frowned, trying to think of another spot he would have them. I slipped all the papers back in the appropriate files and shut the drawer, and when I did, a single piece of paper had floated down to me, from somewhere at the top of the desk. I grabbed the sheet and read over the words, my eyes growing wide, then squinting as I read and re-read. My body turned cold as I sat in shock, trying to process what I had read. When I realized I’d been sitting there for probably thirty minutes doing absolutely nothing I jumped, understanding that Trent could walk through the door at any minute and find me. Then what would I say?

Carefully, I pushed myself up and climbed onto the office chair, putting the piece of paper back where I thought it had come from. From my new vantage point, I saw the top of his desk was riddled with other papers and…a calendar. I swallowed hard as I peered closer and saw what was written in under March 13. My stomach heaving, I quickly left the office after righting the chair to its original spot, and fled to the bathroom.

I blinked back tears in bed as I forced myself to calm my mind. Trent had some explaining to do sure, but how did I tell him what I had found? Did that really even matter in the grand scheme of things? But knowing the Trent as of lately, he would try to turn this around on me and make me look like the bad person. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for sleep. I just wanted to sleep, to forget about what I had found. The day had been torturous enough, trying to make everything seem like it was hunky dory and nothing out of place. And what would tomorrow bring? More questions. And next week – Trent would be gone for two weeks. Would he be going where he said he was? What was he actually doing on his trips away?

The bedroom door opened and I saw Trent enter the room, already in just his boxers. I let my breathing become even so he would think I was asleep.

He plugged his cell phone in and set it on the nightstand, then pulled the covers back and crawled in. I felt his cold feet touch mine and jerked involuntarily. “Are you awake?” he whispered. I could feel his erection pressing into my back, and knew what he wanted. He probably touched me on purchase.

“Mmmph,” I mumbled, not opening my eyes.

“Port. You awake?” he asked again, clearly not getting the hint as his hand wandered to my breast.

I rolled away and made more sleeping noises, begging in my mind for him to leave me alone. He stayed quiet for another moment, then finally rolled the other way.

I was off the hook – at least for one night.

SamanthaMarchPic**About author, Samantha March:

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 health, fitness, fashion, and celebrity related. In 2011 she launched her independent publishing company Marching Ink and has three published novels – Destined to Fail, The Green Ticket and A Questionable Friendship. When she isn’t reading, writing, or blogging, you can find her cheering for the Green Bay Packers. Samantha lives in Iowa with her husband and Vizsla puppy.

**Contact Samantha: Website   Facebook   GoodReads   Twitter

**Buy “A Questionable Friendship”: Amazon   Barnes & Noble   Kobo – eBook

**GIVEAWAY**

Click HERE to enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift card!

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

The Golden Apple

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“The Golden Apple” by Faerl Marie

Blurb: MEET POPPY PARKER, a recent widow who knows she must move forward but has no idea which direction to take. To start fresh, Poppy moves from her idyllic home in Georgia to the grimy glamour of New York City to open up her own boutique and find a way to live and love without her husband.

Austin Bandy has been in love with Poppy since the moment he laid eyes on her years ago, right before her wedding. Now she is back, grieving and broken hearted by her nearly-perfect husband’s death—not Austin’s ideal romantic situation. He needs to wait for her to recover but not so long that someone else has the chance to move in and sweep his dream girl off her feet and keep him as a “good friend” forever.

Poignant, hopeful and fresh, Faerl Marie’s enchanting debut novel will have you hooked and ready to pursue your own hopes and dreams the moment you turn the final page. The Golden Apple is a charming and fashionable novel about loss, love and moving on without betraying your self, your past or those you love.

My Review: Words cannot describe how much I enjoyed this book. It started quickly, and before too long, I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough.

After Poppy moved to New York, her adventure with starting a new life and finding herself started right away. I liked that she had a girlfriend who she could rely on, and seemed to take to Austin almost immediately. While I wouldn’t have been as aggressive as she was (sleeping with him in the same bed, and staying at his home on most nights), I liked how Faerl didn’t make Poppy’s and Austin’s relationship based on sex, but rather romantic and innocent.

There were times when I wanted Poppy to stop thinking, and go with what I thought she wanted all along, which was to be with Austin, but I think that’s what made the book even more dramatic. (I won’t give you any spoilers). 🙂

Faerl Marie is a very gifted author who has written a wonderful heartwarming and memorable book, and I cannot wait to read what she’ll come out with next.

I give this book 5 stars!

Excerpt: 

“Well,” Vivian hadn’t said a word until then. “That’s quite a morning the two of you had.” After leaving Austin’s Poppy had gone to Vivian’s and took a long shower, soaking away the puffy redness around her eyes. Now she sat across from Viv in a nearby café dressed in a lilac and white striped seersucker dress feeling refreshed and sane.
“Tell me about it.” Poppy swirled a purple grape around in her palm like a marble. It was hot outside even under the shade of the black and white striped awning that covered them. They were the only occupied table and as such had their water and tea glasses refilled after nearly ever sip.
“The thing is Viv, I really thought it was him. When he turned and I saw his face and knew that it wasn’t, I felt okay about it. It didn’t hurt like I would have thought.” She laughed to herself ironically. “Until I broke down in a puddle of tears on the side of the street.” She popped the grape in her mouth and looked at her oldest friend.
“I think if it’s okay with you I’ll leave this bit out of the weekly report card your mom calls for.” Vivian raised one eyebrow and took a bite of her sandwich.
“Does she still do that? It’s been two months.”
Poppy moved her hair behind her shoulder. “What have you told her so far?”
“That you’ve gained at least ten pounds and a dress size,” She raised that eyebrow again, “lie. That you’ve made loads of new friends and stay out late having fun, partial lie.” She took another bite of her sandwich and swallowed. “That you go shopping all the time and spend money so frivolously you can’t afford to move out of my living room. Lie and lie.” She took a drink of her sparkling water. “Oh yeah, and that you’re sleeping at some guy’s house and thinking of opening your own vintage boutique.”
“Well two out of six isn’t bad. Whenever she calls me I just tell her that I think of Josh less often each week and that I don’t fall asleep crying every night, which actually, now that I think about it is true. I didn’t cry at all at Austin’s.” They both looked up from their lunches smiling and said simultaneously, “Except for today.” Poppy rolled her eyes and Vivian laughed.
“I’m sorry Pop.” Vivian looked serious for a moment. “I don’t mean to laugh. I know it’s rough.”
“Oh Viv. It’s either something to laugh about or something to cry about and lock me away in an asylum for.” She smiled. “I’d rather be laughing.” They both finished their lunches before she said, “I do feel pretty bad for Austin. Poor guy, sleeping on his own couch and dragging around a sobbing mess on his weekend.” Poppy dug around in her purse for cash.
Vivian was serious again as she moved crumbs around her plate with the tines of her fork. “He’s in love with you. You know that, right?” Poppy looked back down at the bills in her hand.
“I know he likes me. Love seems like a strong word to come from someone who barely knows me.” She ran one hand through her blonde waves.
“No, he loves you. He’s loved you since that first trip when you came out here and loitered around that photo shoot. You’re different Pop. Different from ‘city girls’,” she raised her hands in air quotes. “You’re different from all girls. I think it broke him when I told him you were about to be married. His jaw literally dropped. I’ve never seen anyone look so disappointed in my life. I’ll never forget that.” She looked away a moment before continuing. “I figured he’d gotten over it until a year or so ago.” She took a sip of her ice water. Poppy waited for her to continue.
“I ran into his sister, London, at some party and we started talking. She wanted to know whom this girl was that occasionally flitted into the city to break her brother’s heart again and again. Every time you came to visit he tried to make an appearance. At least once a year he’d ask if you were still married.” She set her fork down and looked into Poppy’s eyes, blue meeting blue.
“He told me, right after I’d asked if he’d pick us up from the airport, that he would wait as long as it took but that he would be there the moment you were ready. You think all this is just happenstance but really it’s Austin taking every opportunity he sees to be with you.” Vivian gave a half smile. “He’s a really good guy Poppy and I just think you should know.” She laughed then, “But please God! Don’t tell him I told you any of that.” They both stood up and Poppy checked her watch, unsure of how to respond to such a heavy confession.
“Oh! I need to get back to the apartment and change for dinner.”
“Your hot date! What are you going to wear?” Vivian and Poppy had been planning outfits since they were in grade school and started coordinating their scrunched velvet jazz pants and floral leotards.
“I’m thinking elegant-casual with glam accessories.” Poppy wanted to look attractive but not necessarily desirable or sexy.
“Oh,” Vivian’s face fell, “I was thinking sexy-glam with sassy accessories or at least some color. I didn’t even know you owned so much black.”
“I wear color!”
“Only when you’re jogging and you have that super serious runner face which is like the blackest of all faces you can wear,” Vivian retorted.
“Alright,” Poppy conceded. “I’ll wear color as part of my elegant-casual look.” Poppy showered and dressed hurriedly when they arrived back at the brownstone.
“Okay, How do I look?” She stood with one hand on her hip. An eggplant sheath dress skimmed over her body gracefully. A coral skinny belt drew in her waist.
“You look great. I love that dress, it’s the blackest purple I’ve ever seen.”
“This is eggplant!” Poppy adjusted the belt. “Is the dress too short? Am I showing too much skin?” She twirled around for Vivian to see.
“Are you kidding me? The front comes up to your neck and it’s long sleeved.”
“These are three-quarter length sleeves and the hem is pretty short.” Poppy pulled at the dress.
“No, the hem is great and those coral heels aren’t so high. I love the low scoop back; it’s the right amount of sexy.” Vivian looked her over again. “What jewelry are you wearing?”
“These.” Poppy slipped on a pair of gold chandelier earrings that almost brushed her shoulders. “How’s the back of my hair?”
“Good. Did you braid it or just twist it?” Vivian tucked a few strands of Poppy’s hair back into the twist with a bobby pin.
“Both. Is it too… secretarial?” She patted the chignon.
“It’s perfect. You look beautiful.” Vivian put her hands on Poppy’s shoulders. “Are you nervous?”
“A little, but not as much as I would have thought.” She checked her watch. “I better go down and get a cab. Have a good night.” She gave Viv a quick kiss on the cheek.
Vivian stood in the door and called after her, “Have fun Poppy!”
Poppy pulled the belt of her trench tighter as she stepped out of the cab. The restaurant was open except for a few tables and Greg was easy to spot in dark jeans and a striped button up shirt. He stood as Poppy approached the table.

Faerl Marie**About Faerl Marie: Faerl Marie is a graduate of the University of New Mexico with a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology and minors in English and Social Welfare. She has worked as a style consultant, personal shopper and wardrobe curator, among other things. Faerl Marie spends her days writing, dreaming about new stories and characters, walking her dog and adoring her husband. She lives in the idyllic mountains near Santa Fe, New Mexico. “The Golden Apple” is her first novel.

**Contact Faerl: Website   Facebook   Twitter

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

**Everyone who leaves a comment on the tour page will be entered to win a $20 Amazon gift card! Anyone who purchases a copy of The Golden Apple by April 7 and sends their receipt to Samantha (at) ChickLitPlus.com will receive 10 bonus entries!**

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Storm in a B Cup

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Book review of “Storm in a B Cup”

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“Storm in a B Cup” by Lindy Dale

Book Description:

“It’s my funeral. If I want you to play Bon Jovi as they wheel my body away to be cremated you’ll do it.”

The horrified look on Brendan’s face says he’ll do anything but. “People will laugh.”

“I want them to. I want a funeral where everyone stands around and remembers the funny things I did, and then they get really pissed.”

Sophie Molloy has Breast Cancer. She didn’t think it was cancer to begin with, she thought it was another cyst. She also didn’t think it would be the catalyst for a series of life changing events, none of which involved chemotherapy. Within months of her diagnosis, Sophie loses not only her right breast but her boyfriend of three years, her house and her best friend. Her life spirals from great to bad, then ugly. Nothing can make it better, not even the crazy care packages her mother keeps sending from Melbourne.

To make matters worse, Sophie fears she’s developing a crush on the plastic surgeon that will be reconstructing her breast. Dr. Hanson has the bedside manner of an angel and the looks to match. He’s so caring and compassionate, Sophie begins to believe he cares about her in a most non-doctor-patient kind of way. But he doesn’t, of course. He’s merely her doctor. Or does he?

A fictional tale, based on the author’s medical journey with the disease, Storm in a B Cup is a warm-hearted glimpse into the world of a Breast Cancer sufferer that will have you laughing out loud.

My Review:

I was hesitant about reading this book because breast cancer is such a serious topic that I didn’t think an author could write so comically about, but Lindy Dale proved me wrong. I started it on a lazy Saturday and finished it the next day. I didn’t want to put it down. From the beginning, I really enjoyed Sophie’s journey with breast cancer. It was interesting to see how people treated her (a boyfriend, her son, parents, and coworkers), how relationships change, and that just because one man might not be strong enough to handle it, another can.

While I loved all the characters that Lindy created (even Sophie’s ex boyfriend), Sophie was my favorite. One minute she was a wreck (understandably so), the next she was positive and level-headed, and not ready to give up on her battle. That was one thing that I loved about her, she seemed real. From the medical descriptions to the discussions that Sophie has with her doctors were written in layman’s terms and easy to understand, so I wasn’t intimidated by any kind of doctor talk.

I’ve never read anything by Lindy Dale before, but I can say that I’m now a huge fan of hers. Whether you or a friend has or had breast cancer, I highly recommend this “Storm in a B Cup”. For dealing with such a serious topic, “Storm in a B Cup” will make you laugh and cry. It was a wonderful book that I won’t forget.

I give this book 5 stars!

LindyDale**About author, Lindy Dale:

Lindy lives on acreage in country Western Australia where she spends her days teaching, writing, walking and looking after orphan lambs. (See Daisy Darling)

She’s a hopeless U2 and Bon Jovi fan – as judged by her collection of tour t-shirts. She’s also rugby union fanatic, coffee and champagne lover, chocoholic, over-exaggerator, trashy TV, music and iPhone addict.

Lindy has been writing in the genre of Chick Lit & Women’s Fiction for the past ten years but has also tried her hand at a paranormal romance in the book, Angel’s Bend. Chick Lit remains her main love.

**Contact Lindy: Website   Facebook   Goodreads   Twitter

**Click HERE to buy “Storm in a B Cup” on Amazon!

**Click HERE to see other stops on Lindy’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours!

**GIVEAWAY**

Click HERE to enter to win a $35.00 Amazon Gift Card!

Jennifer Vessells

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About author, Jennifer Vessells: After practicing law for nearly three years, Jennifer Vessells decided to leave the practice to pursue her dream of being a novelist. After an intensive year and a half of writing, Ms. Vessells is proud to finally present her debut novel to the world – a story that’s been marinating since her early college days.

Passionate about women’s fiction and children’s chapter books, Ms. Vessells plans to enjoy a long writing career. Keep your eye out for more exciting publications from this author in the future!

GUEST POST

The Life of a Chick Lit Author

When people think about what life must be as an author, I’m sure many of them harbor the same romantic images I did when I first decided to abandon my life as an overworked attorney and take the plunge into authorship.  I imagined myself sitting peacefully at my laptop, sipping calmly on a cup of gourmet coffee while enjoying an effortless surge of literary brilliance.  I thought I might spend a few of my mornings at some local coffee shops, immersed in what would obviously turn out to be a best-selling novel.  I couldn’t wait to wake up to those blank pages full of possibilities, and assumed (albeit naively) that I would be writing a book every four to five months.

Like most things, however, the reality of life as an author has not been as romantic as the dream.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I love my life as an author and relish the time that I now have to fulfill my creative needs.  That being said, however, there are a few things I didn’t consider when starting down the path to authorship.

First, I’m a procrastinator.  Who knew?  After several years of education – including three years of law school – I certainly didn’t.  It was only until I was left to my own devices that I realized that without deadlines, bosses, or third-party accountability, I tend to procrastinate.  A lot.  This doesn’t mix well with my book production goals, and often leaves me frustrated when I look back on what I’ve accomplished in a given time frame.

Second, once my financial contributions to my family went from significant to zilch, I struggled with feelings of guilt.  My husband continues to be amazingly supportive of my new career path, and I knew that becoming an even mildly successful author would take time, dedication, and patience.  But even so, I have trouble dealing with that guilt from time to time.  And the looming law school debt certainly doesn’t help!

Third, I became a parent!  This one has really thrown me for a loop.  As a non-pregnant woman with two dogs and a husband, I was able to complete my first chick lit novel, Life in Plan B, over a fun-filled nine-month period.  I finished my manuscript the month before I found out I was pregnant – and thankfully, not a moment later.  My first trimester brought fatigue, headaches, and brain farts, which prevented me from doing anything other than sending out form query letters to various chick lit agents.  After approximately three months of query letters, I decided to publish Life in Plan B on my own, and could barely concentrate long enough to ensure the book’s formatting looked professional and flawless.  By the time the third trimester rolled around, I was so anxious anticipating the arrival of our daughter, that I spent the bulk of my time cleaning the house, doing laundry, and undertaking whatever else my nesting instincts drove me to pursue.  Naturally, writing, outlining, or marketing my new book was not on my instinct’s list.  And now, with a newborn baby to take care of, I barely even have time for a daily shower!

Notwithstanding my aforementioned gripes or problems, however, I must conclude this post by saying that life as an author, all-in-all, has been wonderful.  Huh?  I know what you’re thinking.  How could I say that after spending the majority of this piece explaining the ways in which life as an author is trying or difficult?  I can say it because it’s true – and because I don’t want to risk leaving the impression that I’m ridiculously self-deprecating or pessimistic.  Despite all of its unanticipated struggles, authorship has opened the door to new and exciting career opportunities, creative outlets, and people.  I’ve enjoyed putting my ideas to paper and will always be thankful for the opportunity to fulfill my life-long dream of becoming an author.  If my new career has taught me anything, it’s this: following your dream isn’t romantic, easy, or without struggles, and the grass is never as green as you think it is on the other side.  However, if you take a leap to do what you love and are committed to giving it all the energy, time and passion that you can, you can truly lead a wonderful, fulfilling (and occasionally frustrating) life.  I’ve never regretted my decision to become an author, and look forward to what tomorrow will bring!

LifeInPlanBCoverPic**About “Life In Plan Be”:

When twenty-eight year old Haley Simpson, a sales associate for her best friend’s clothing boutique in Columbus, Ohio, begins a secret affair with the boutique’s potential New York City business partner, she digs a cavernous hole of deception that not only threatens to end her blossoming career, but to destroy a life-long friendship.

Jennifer Vessells’s debut novel, LIFE IN PLAN B, encompasses everything classic chick lit should: the dynamics of friendship, the nuances of high-reaching career aspirations, and the struggles – both usual and unique – presented by romantic and familial relationships. An entertaining story at every turn, LIFE IN PLAN B is identifiable for readers of any age. In short, Ms. Vessells hits her debut novel out of the park!

EXCERPT

After a quick lunch on Lexington Avenue, I took the Southbound 6 Train to Spring Street.  The train was fairly empty in the early afternoon, and I was thankful for the chance to sit.  I abhorred having to grip the germ-infested poles to stabilize myself while standing on the subway.  I wasn’t a clean freak by any stretch, but I also wasn’t eager to share whatever organisms the millions of others riding the train may be carrying.

Stepping off of the train when it reached my stop, I was temporarily mesmerized by the early twentieth century mosaic tiles announcing my arrival at Spring Street Station.  Blues, greens, and oranges dominated the sign, forming a decorative triangular border at the bottom of the stark white “Spring St” letters on the subway wall.  Mosaic signs marked most, if not all, of New York’s subway stations, and all were strikingly beautiful, especially given the fact that they existed in the dank, smelly underground.  Although I’d seen them hundreds of times before, their unexpected grandeur never ceased to impress me.

Climbing up the stairs from the subway station, I felt a rush of excitement as I emerged onto the street.  SoHo was alive with people, all dressed in outfits more interesting than the last.  One woman passed by in a purple strapless maxi dress, paired with a short denim jacket and peep-toe leather print pumps.  Her dyed blond hair was pulled together in a long, relaxed braid, and her white Prada handbag was swaying back and forth as she marched down the street, chatting loudly on her phone.

To my left, I noticed a middle-aged couple holding hands as they waited on the corner to cross the street.  The man was dressed in fitted, cuffed jeans, a corduroy, brown jacket, and a neutral colored scarf wrapped loosely around his neck to keep out some of the cool spring air.  His curly dark hair was tied back in a low ponytail.  Although his back was turned to me, I could tell from his hands he had smooth, olive skin.  His partner was equally well put together and had the same beautiful skin color.  She had long brown hair that fell easily past her shoulders in loose curls.  She wore a pair of black skinny jeans, paired with an oversized, light blue sweater that peeked out beneath her cropped beige jacket.  Her flat-heeled boots, made of brown distressed leather, covered her to her knees.  I could tell they weren’t from New York.  Although their foreign language initially gave them away, their reluctance to jaywalk was also a clear sign that they were visiting.  No cars were coming from either direction, but the couple didn’t move until the signal beckoned them across.  No New Yorker worth his or her salt would have stood there for more than a couple of seconds before bolting across the street.

As I watched them cross, I felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy.  It was clear they were in love.  I watched them saunter casually across the street, holding each other tightly.  Once safely on the other side, the man pulled the woman in close for a kiss.  It was quick, but passionate.  Smiling as she pulled away, the woman let go of her lover’s hand to touch him lightly on the cheek.  He put his hand over hers affectionately in response and intertwined their fingers once again.  Turning their backs toward me, they continued walking together down the sidewalk, hand-in-hand, until they disappeared from view.

I caught myself daydreaming as I watched them fade out of sight.  I imagined myself in her place, walking hand-in-hand with my own gorgeous man who couldn’t walk too far without bringing me in close.  I found myself longing for that companionship, that easy love.

**Buy “Life In Plan B”: Amazon – Ebook   Amazon – Paperback   Barnes & Noble – Nook and Paperback

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**Click HERE to see more stops on Jennifer’s Chick Lit Plus Blog tours!

The Hole in the Middle

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the hole in the middle

The Hole in the Middle by Kate Hilton

Blurb:

Sophie Whelan is the epitome of the modern superwoman. When she operates at peak performance, she can cajole balky employees, soothe her cranky children, troubleshoot career disasters, throw a dinner party for ten and draft an upbeat Christmas letter — all in the same day.

But as Sophie’s fortieth birthday looms, her seamless life reveals disturbing web-like fractures. Conflict with her boss, blossoming jealousy of her husband’s femme fatale business partner and her feelings of hopeless inadequacy as a mother and daughter are cracking the edifice of her life.

Rescue may be at hand when Lillian Parker, a wealthy widow who befriended Sophie during her university days, makes Sophie an irresistible offer. Why, then, does Sophie hesitate? The answer is the reappearance of Lillian’s nephew, Will Shannon, the great unresolved love of Sophie’s life. As she remembers the vivid drama of their college romance, Sophie confronts the choices she has made in life and in love and looks for the one answer that has always eluded her: what does she really want?

The Hole in the Middle is a heartbreaking love story, a laugh-out loud portrayal of the twin demands of work and family and a fresh take on the hot debate about having it all.

Excerpt:

I show up at Sara’s house around eight, and book club is in full swing. I’ve come straight from the office, and my prescription is still in my purse. I’d say that I haven’t had time to fill it, but even I know that for once, lack of time isn’t the issue.

I ring the bell. Zoe answers and steps out onto the porch with me for a moment. “I was hoping it was you,” she says. “I’m not ready to tell anyone else about what’s going on with Richard, OK?” She gestures toward the house, where the rest of the book club is waiting.

“Of course,” I say. And in any event, I feel a little fuzzy on the details of Zoe’s marital crisis. Lunch feels as though it happened a week and not six hours ago.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

She shrugs. “It helped to see you at lunch,” she says. “But I think this is one of those situations where it’s going to keep feeling worse until something big changes. I’m just not ready to think about what the something big is.” I give her a hug, and we go in. “Look everyone,” she calls. “It’s a special guest appearance by Sophie!” She drags me into the living room, where the rest of the book club bursts into enthusiastic applause.

“I haven’t read the book,” I say.

“Don’t be silly,” says Laura. “No one ever reads the book.”

“I do,” says Sara pointedly. “And it would be great if we could make a tiny effort to talk about it once in a while, even for five minutes. Hi, Soph.” She pauses. “What did you do to your arm?”

“I sprained my wrist,” I say. “It’s nothing.”

“What was the book again?” asks Laura.

Sara raises an eyebrow. “Are you really interested, or are you just trying to humor me?”

Laura laughs. “Was it good?”

“Not especially,” says Sara. “We can stop talking about it now. What’s Megan going on about?”

Like Sara, Megan is one of my old friends from the student newspaper, and I’ve caught her in mid-rant. Nora is leaning back slightly to avoid Megan’s violent gesticulations, which are, as usual, aimed at hapless, absent Bob: “And then he looks into the stroller and says, ‘I’m starting to get to the point where I remember that he’s around. Do you know what I mean?’ And I think, ‘What kind of fucking question is that? It’s kind of hard for me to forget that our baby is around when he’s hanging off my tit 24/7, but I guess you don’t have that problem, do you Bob?’ Honestly! I just looked at him and said ‘I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.’”

Megan takes a breath, looks around, and realizes that she is the main attraction. “Hi, Sophie,” she says. “Good to see you.”

I wave. “Still married?”

Megan snorts. “Barely,” she says, but she smiles a little before turning back to Nora to continue itemizing Bob’s shortcomings as a husband and father.

“What can I get you to drink?” asks Zoe. “Prosecco?” I nod, and she disappears into the kitchen. I sit down next to Sara.

“How have you been?” she asks.

“Bad day to ask,” I say. “I’d say I’ve been stressed to the point of hysteria, while at the same time struggling to find enough meaning in my work to justify my level of anxiety. I mean, shouldn’t you have to care about a job to get this worked up about it?”

“Of course not!” Zoe reappears with my glass and plops down on the sofa with us. “Do you remember the I Love Lucyepisode where Lucy and Ethel are working on an assembly line at a chocolate factory? No? You know the scene in Pretty Woman where Richard Gere takes Julia Roberts up to the penthouse for the first time, and they have a fight, and then they make up, and then they stay up late watching TV?”

“Oh, yeah,” says Sara. “Right before she gives him the blow job.”

“Exactly. That moment where you think, am I really supposed to be rooting for these two to get together in the end?”

“Totally.” Megan and Nora have finished with Bob and rejoin the group. “But they aren’t watching the chocolate factory episode,” Megan says. “They’re watching the wine-making one, where Lucy runs around in a giant barrel and throws grapes at everyone.”

Zoe rolls her eyes. “The point I’m making,” she says, with the deliberate enunciation of a woman who has had too much Prosecco, “is that the chocolate factory is a perfect example of a job that is both stressful and meaningless. The chocolate starts coming faster and faster and they can’t wrap it quickly enough, and by the end they are stuffing the chocolates down their shirts and in their mouths and looking completely panic-stricken, but to no real end.”

“And this relates to Sophie’s job how?” asks Laura.

Zoe waves her hand vaguely. “Email, voicemail, staff meetings – the whole tedious routine is a modern-day, white-collar version of the conveyor belt.”

“Well, that’s a pretty bleak assessment,” I say.

“Only if you plan to be stuck beside the conveyor belt for the rest of your life,” says Zoe. “But since you don’t actually work in a chocolate factory, you have a few options. And if you would admit that you are having a midlife crisis, you could start looking at ways to change it up.”

“I’m not having a midlife crisis,” I say.

Laura laughs. “Everyone’s having a midlife crisis, Sophie,” she says. “You might as well join the club.”

kate hilton**About Kate Hilton:

Kate Hilton has worked in law, higher education, public relations, fundraising and publishing. She has an English degree from McGill University and a law degree from the University of Toronto. She holds down a day job, volunteers for community organizations, raises two boys, cooks, collects art, reads voraciously and likes her husband. In her free time, she writes. On good days, she thinks she might have it all. On bad days, she wants a nap.

The Hole in the Middle is Kate’s first book. Kate is represented by Beverley Slopen of the Beverley Slopen Literary Agency in Toronto.

**Contact Kate: Blog/Website   Facebook   Goodreads   Twitter

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

**GIVEAWAY**

**Anyone who leaves a comment on the tour page will be entered  to win a $20 Amazon gift card! Anyone who purchases their copy of The Hole in the Middle before  January 27 and sends their receipt to Samantha (at) ChickLitPlus (dot) com will get 5 bonus entries!**

The Champagne Diet

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Book review of “The Champagne Diet”

TheChampagneDietPic“The Champagne Diet” by Cara Alwill Leyba

Book Description:

This book is for the woman who wants to feel good about herself and her body, and learn how to start incorporating healthy habits into her life. It’s for the woman who doesn’t want to trade in her champagne for skinny jeans. It’s for the woman who is done with dieting, and ready to start paying attention to her health before that number on the scale. It’s for the woman who is ready to stop letting her weight define her, and is ready to understand why it always did. This is not a diet book. This is a lifestyle guide. This book will change the way you view your weight and yourself forever. You will walk away feeling empowered, inspired, and downright sexy (and probably craving a glass of bubbly). You will learn how to celebrate yourself and your body. You will learn to make your health a priority, always. And most importantly – you will learn to love yourself, exactly as you are. So get ready to embark on a complete dieting and lifestyle overhaul, sister. You are now on The Champagne Diet!

My Review:

As a champagne lover, I loved the title of Cara’s book! To have the words champagne and diet in the same sentence was music to my ears, so I was very eager to read it. The healthy tips are a lifestyle change that any type of woman could use — especially if they’re wanting to start off the new year the right way. The Champagne Diet emphasizes on choosing the right foods and living happy life, without feeling bad about yourself. Not only does it give tips on showing how sexy you can be, but also gives you tips on feeling sexy, too.

While this book was a good read and it did motivate me to be healthy while feeling sexy (with a glass of bubbly, of course), the only negative thing I can say about The Champagne Diet was that there was a lot of repetition.

I would recommend this book to anyone who loves champagne, and wants a fancy and fun lifestyle change.

I give this book 3 stars!

CaraAlwillLeybaPic**About Cara Alwill Leyba:

Cara Alwill Leyba is a best selling author and life coach from New York City who encourages women to live their most effervescent lives and celebrate themselves. She runs an international private coaching practice where she works with women who are ready to make their happiness a priority. Through loving guidance, support and an expert perspective, Cara empowers women to be the change agent in their lives.

Her blog, TheChampagneDiet.com has been featured in Glamour, Shape, Marie Claire UK, Cosmopolitan South Africa, and a host of other publications worldwide. Cara’s writing has been featured in The Huffington Post, Marie Claire, xoJane, Mind Body Green, and many other sites.

Cara is the author of two books: Sparkle: The Girl’s Guide to Living a Deliciously Dazzling, Wildly Effervescent, Kick-Ass Life, which was a #1 Amazon best seller in the Happiness and Self-Esteem categories, and The Champagne Diet: Eat, Drink, and Celebrate Your Way to a Healthy Mind and Body, which was a #2 Amazon best seller in Self-Esteem.

When she’s not popping bubbly and blogging, Cara spends her days leading a digital advertising team at MTV Networks. She lives in Brooklyn, New York with her husband and dog.

**Contact Cara: Facebook   Instagram   Pinterest   Twitter

**Buy “The Champagne Diet”: Amazon – Kindle   Amazon – Paperback

**Click HERE to see other stops on Cara’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours!