Women's Fiction

The Commitment Test

February 4, 2015 2 Comments

“The Commitment Test” by Amanda Aksel

Blurb: When a Valentine’s Day proposal doesn’t come with an engagement ring, Marin Johns begins to wonder if she and James will ever get married. As her closest friends begin to move forward with their lives, she refuses to be left behind.

Hope is restored as she devises a plan to get James down on one knee by becoming the ideal mate. Everything seems to fall into place until her college boyfriend resurfaces after a decade with his own ideas about their future. Will Marin be forced to choose between the man of her dreams and the diamond ring she’s always dreamed of?

**Purchase links: Kindle Nook iBook Kobo

**Click HERE to buy Amanda’s first novel, The Man Test (The Marin Test Series: Book One) on sale or $0.99!!

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**About the author:

Amanda Aksel is an author with an affinity for love. Becoming a couples therapist was her “backup” career, and after completing her BA in Psychology she was on her way to solving love’s most complicated quandaries one couple at a time. Now she plans to solve love’s most complicated quandaries one novel at a time.

**Contact Amanda: Website Facebook Instagram Newsletter Twitter

Give Your Heart a Break

February 2, 2015 2 Comments

“Give Your Heart a Break” by Helen Peterson

Blurb:

Gorgeous? Check.

Wealthy? Check.

Sweet? Double check.

When Rachel Thomas meets Mason Conner, it seems she has found a man who is everything she’s ever wanted. After years of the single girl life in New York City, she’s due for some luck in the romance department. But with her less than stellar track record, Rachel can’t seem to let go of her past failures to fall too hard.

That is until Mason’s ex-fiancé reappears, determined to steal him back. With more than winning Mr. Perfect’s heart on the line, is Rachel finally ready to give her heart a break?

Excerpt:

I was opening up portfolios when Sydney appeared by my side. “There you are! Where have you been hiding all morning?” Her sugary sweet voice made my skin crawl. Why today?

“I’ve been here all day, Sydney. At my desk. You saw me this morning.” And gave a weirdly enthusiastic wave at me, which freaked me out. I was just waiting for this moment all day. She probably wanted to brag about her new boyfriend or some other mundane thing that I didn’t give a hoot about.

“Right, right. Anywho, I wanted to ask you something.”

She paused, just smiling and blinking at me. “Okay. What?” Was I walking into a trap? Should I run away?

“How is your relationship with Mason going?”

I forced a smile on my face, surely fake, and said, “None of your business. Do you have something important to talk to me about?” My patience was waning.

“Oh, I do,” she said, looking down at her fresh manicure, then back at me. “But it’s none of my business, right?”

“If you have something to tell me, please just spit out. I’m busy and tired and need to get this done before—”

“You’ll want to make time for this,” she said, cutting me off. I noticed then the devilish spark in her eyes. Oh, fuck. I started to get concerned at that moment.

“Fine. Tell me.”

“So, I was at Kittachai in Soho last night. Do you know where that is?” she asked.

I was familiar with the restaurant but had never eaten there. “I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, it’s a super fancy restaurant in the Thompson Hotel. Quite expensive. Anyway, I went with some guy who wanted to take me out. I didn’t really care for him much and I wasn’t going to go, but I am so glad I did.”

“Okay, and?”

“I saw your little hot stud dining with some supermodel hot blonde,” she said smugly. “And to tell you the truth, he seemed smitten with her.”

Before I panicked at what Sydney was telling me, I remembered Mason did a lot of dinners with clients. And since Bradley had called him on our drive back to the city, I assumed he was working through dinner when he didn’t respond to my dinner invite text last night.

“Yeah, so Mason has lots of dinners with his clients. So nice of you to drop by and . . .”

She cut me off again. “I thought that may be the case as well. But you might want to stick around and here this.”

Goosebumps rose on my arms. Where the hell was she going with this? My fingers itched to check my cell phone to see if Mason had sent me a text yet.

“I just happened to run into the girl in the bathroom. Crazy, huh?” So she ran into Mason in the huge city of New York and managed to be in the bathroom with this chick at the same time? A paranoid part of my brain was sending out warning signals. Was Sydney a stalker? What was going on here? “I started making light chit-chat, talking about my boring date, and yadda, yadda. I asked if she was out on a date and guess what she said?”

“What?” I dreaded her answer.

“She said she was!” Sydney practically crowed, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “What’s even crazier—she said her date was actually her ex-fiancé. Wow. Crazy, huh?”

I didn’t say anything, just sat there and felt sick as she continued on. “It was great talking to her. Her name is Emily and she just moved back from Washington, where she moved for a work thing, and now work has moved her back. So, she’s back and here and her and her ex—Mason—are giving it another shot. Isn’t that a special story? She’s beautiful, too. And funny and smart and really personable.”

My heart was breaking listening to Sydney talk. What the hell? His ex-fiancée was back in New York and he hadn’t told me? He was—seeing her again? Was the wedding back on? Why would he take me and my friends to his house in the Hamptons if he was dating Emily? And why was Sydney talking this girl up like she was the next Miss America? My head throbbed, but I forced the tears to stay in my eyes. I couldn’t show weakness in front of Sydney.

“Sorry, Sydney,” I said. “Mason’s told me all about his ex.” I stressed the word, trying to keep my voice calm. “So, you can move along now.”

“So you know all about her, huh?” Sydney was challenging me. “You know that they are getting back together then? Emily told me about how Mason is the love of her life and they’re working on their relationship. Funny, she didn’t mention anything about him having a girlfriend that was in her way.”

With that, she turned on her heel and flounced away. My fears were full blown. Mason having dinner with his ex. Her being back in town, period. Him seemingly not mentioning the fact he was seeing someone. Her wanting him back. A tear slipped down my cheek then, and I was grateful Sydney was long gone at that point. Off to torture another co-worker no doubt.

**Find “Give Your Heart a Break”: Amazon Barnes & Noble GoodReads Kobo

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**Helen Peterson:

Helen is a native of Toronto Canada who went to college to pursue Marketing . She currently works at a bank as an administrative assistant but her love of writing and telling stories that others can relate to has helped her complete her first manuscript Give Your Heart a Break. Helen has always loved telling a story especially through song, Staring in all her high school musical theatre productions Like Oliver! And Anything Goes. Helen currently resides in Markham Ontario.

**Contact Helen: Facebook Twitter

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**Click HERE to see other stops on Helen’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours and to enter to win a $30.00 Amazon Gift Card!

Starting from Lost

January 28, 2015 Leave a Comment

“Starting from Lost” by S.K. Wills

Blurb: Love is a risk. If you lose it all, would you dare to risk it twice?

Hannah Rogers is lost: cynical, insecure, and withdrawn. Skeletons forged through a bad breakup that should have been a marriage proposal. Now four years later, Hannah follows her dead-end job to the big city where her only hope is to survive the next eight months as her flirtatious boss’s personal assistant. The last thing her predictable life needs is to collide with the boy responsible for breaking her heart, or the twist of fate that sends a sexy new neighbor to awaken feelings she’s long since put to bed.

Alex Sorrento doesn’t have any room in his life for another pet project. He’s already put aside his career and his personal dreams to follow his half-sister Mackenzie to the big city. Lost in the guilt over the events that nearly took her life, he feels he owes her that much. When Mackenzie befriends the new girl on the third floor, Alex finds himself defenseless against the sizzling chemistry between them and the sadness in her eyes. Can he protect Hannah from her ex without losing his heart?

In this turbulent journey about self-discovery, forgiveness, and love, some second chances aren’t worth taking, but others have their own rewards.

My Review:

After reading the blurb, I knew right away that I wanted to read “Starting from Lost.” It seemed like a great first read of 2015, and I was really looking forward to it.

Unfortunately, it took me a bit to get into, and had a hard time finishing it. I found Hannah’s character to be way too cynical to be likable, and found her to be a little immature, too, but I sympathized with her and can understand where she’s coming from. As for Alex and Mackenzie, I really liked enjoyed their characters.

For a debut novel, “Starting from Lost” was well-written. S.K. has a lot of talent as an author, but I just couldn’t get into this one. I will be on the lookout for more books to come by this author.

Overall, while I liked the idea of this book, I wish it would’ve moved along a little faster, and kept me wanting to turn the page. Also, I thought it could easily pass for a YA read.

I give this book 3 1/2 stars!

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**About S.K. Wills:

S.K. Wills grew up with reading in her blood; a favorite pastime passed down thanks to her two beautiful grandmas. Wanting to inspire others, like good books inspire her, she added “write a romance novel” to her bucket list, and ultimately, checked it off. Writing makes her soul happy, and since she’s now hooked on story-crafting, she’s decided to stick with it for as long as it will have her. S.K. lives in Southeastern Michigan, and juggles expertly (or so she thinks!) also being a passionate marketer and entrepreneur helping other authors reach their writing dreams. She fuels her insatiable dream-chasing with what some would consider an unhealthy amount of coffee, and she wouldn’t have her crazy busy life any other way. To learn more, visit her at: http://skwills.com/

**Contact S.K. Wills: Facebook Twitter

**Book Links: Amazon Barnes & Noble GoodReads

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**Click HERE to see more stops on S.K. Wills’s Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours!

Twin Piques

January 9, 2015 6 Comments

“Twin Piques” by Tracie Banister

Blurb:

Forensic accountant Sloane Tobin and kooky pet psychic Willa may have the same face, but that’s the only thing these identical twins have in common.

How she can read the hearts and minds of animals has always been a mystery to Willa, and her rotten luck with men is equally baffling. Although she’s been looking for “The One” for what feels like forever (A teenage marriage to a French mime and dating a guy named Spider seemed like good ideas at the time!), optimistic Willa refuses to give up on love. When she meets Brody, the handsome rose expert hired to save her grandmother’s garden, she’s instantly smitten, but why does he keep sending her mixed signals? Does he return her feelings, or is their attraction all in her fanciful head?

Unlike her twin, Sloane has zero interest in romance. Her passion is her job, where she uses her gift for numbers to take down slimy embezzlers and asset-hiding spouses. When she’s assigned two high profile cases, Sloane feels confident the promotion she’s been angling for is within her grasp. But will her plan to climb the corporate ladder be thwarted by difficult clients, her co-worker-with-benefits, or – most surprisingly of all – her own sister? And how’s she supposed to stay focused on the drama at work when her childhood friend, Gav, moves in next door and the spark between them becomes impossible to ignore?

To get what they both want, can Willa and Sloane band together and rely on each other’s strengths? Or will their differences drive them apart once and for all?

**Buy “Twin Piques” now:

Amazon – US Amazon – Global

Click HERE to find “Twin Piques” on Goodreads!

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**About author, Tracie Banister:

An avid reader and writer, Tracie Banister has been scribbling stories since she was a child, most of them featuring feisty heroines with complicated love lives like her favorite fictional protagonist Scarlett O’Hara. Her work was first seen on the stage of her elementary school, where her 4th grade class performed an original holiday play that she penned. (Like all good divas-in-the-making, she also starred in and tried to direct the production.)

Tracie’s dreams of authorial success were put on the backburner when she reached adulthood and discovered that she needed a “real” job in order to pay her bills. Her career as personal assistant to a local entrepreneur lasted for 12 years. When it ended, she decided to follow her bliss and dedicate herself to writing full-time. Twin Piques is her third Chick Lit release. The pet psychic character in this novel was inspired by Tracie’s rascally rescue dogs. She’d love to know what goes on in their heads!

**Contact Tracie:

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Something in the Heir

January 8, 2015 Leave a Comment

“Something in the Heir” by Jenny Gardiner

Blurb:

He’s a prince with a problem, she’s a commoner with a getaway plan.

Modern-day Prince Adrian of Monaforte has a most old-fashioned problem: his demanding mother wants him wed to her best friend’s daughter, the hard-partying Serena. When his refusal falls on deaf ears, Adrian decides it’s time for him to slip away from his gilded cage and figure out his life, all on his own. As luck would have it, event photographer Emma Davison, weary of a revolving door of lost-cause men and tired of her outsider-looking-in career, is in need of her own escape clause, just in time to help a wayward prince in need. And she soon discovers that sometimes a girl’s gotta sweep a prince off his feet.

For any girl that’s ever held out hope that some day her prince would come…or better yet, hoped that some day she’d come to him.

CHAPTER ONE TEASE

Emma Davison had a date with a prince. Well, not really a date, but yes, really a prince. Calling it a date would be a bit of a stretch, considering she would only be within breathing distance of the man by dint of her professional skills. Emma had been hired to photograph His Royal Highness Crown Prince Adrian William Philip Nicholas Winchester-Westleigh, future King of Monaforte, in a series of grip-and-grins with wealthy donors at a Washington, DC charitable event. Which worked out well, considering she’d sworn off dating men, and since a prince was a guy, and guys, well, she was totally over them, it wasn’t like she’d have entertained the idea anyhow. Not that it was even an option.

Besides, princes were a part of fairy tales, and Emma wasn’t a big subscriber to that sort of fiction. Having already tossed back into the swamp more than her share of warty toads over the years, she knew that at the end of the day, even a prince was just a man. And in her world, men hadn’t exactly panned out. Besides, she’d seen the tabloids: this pretty boy was a player, a new woman on his arm in every city, rumor had it. As far as she was concerned, they could keep him. Prince-schmince. She sure didn’t need another love ’em and leave ’em type in her life. She was here to do a job, and the sooner she did it, the sooner she could go home and take a nice hot bath with a good book and a glass of red wine.

As she awaited the arrival of His Royal Whatchamacallit, hovering just inside the cordoned-off velvet rope section in the palatial Great Hall of the Library of Congress, Emma mentally ticked off the essentials she needed to keep in mind for the shoot. She’d thoroughly reviewed the protocol handbook with the palace’s press secretary earlier in the week. All forty-six pages of it. She’d been told a curtsey would be a nice gesture, and warned not to shake the man’s hand, which sort of seemed annoying, as if her own wasn’t good enough or something. No doubt royals were snooty, but she was there to earn a paycheck, not to pass judgment on how full of himself the guy was. Which she assumed he was. Not that she was passing judgment or anything.

Emma had actually practiced how to address the prince for a good while in advance of the event so that she wouldn’t come across like a complete country bumpkin in his presence, repeating in front of the mirror, “Pleased to meet you, sir” till she could say it no more. She was ready. She’d even straightened her shoulder-length chestnut curls for the occasion, thinking straighter hair lent her a bit of gravitas. Yeah, Emma Davison did not care at all about impressing any prince.

She’d brought along her assistant and best friend Caroline McKenzie, whom she knew wouldn’t screw up—just as long as she didn’t hit on the man herself. Caroline, a green-eyed redhead with a penchant for serial flirtation, was known for her ability to pick up pretty much any guy she wanted. But Emma knew even Caroline had her limits.

Tonight Emma got to remain on the VIP side of the velvet rope as she set up to shoot the prince alongside all sorts of deep-pocketed D.C. dignitaries, with the President of the United States thrown in for good measure. Normally, it was hard to remain too starstruck in her line of work, shooting famous people as regularly as she did. But a prince and a president? As much as she liked to play it cool, even she had to admit that was none too shabby.

Caro, standing just behind Emma, squealed in surprise when the prince’s arrival was announced with blasts from those long royal trumpets draped with crimson flags bearing the Monaforte royal crest. It was straight out of a Disney movie when Prince Charming’s arrival was heralded to the guests at the ball. As soon as the trumpets fell silent, a deep blue velvet curtain parted and the prince, followed by his right-hand man, stepped forward to the thunderous applause of the audience.

Emma was close enough to see that he had mesmerizing bright blue eyes. Dammit, she was a sucker for blue eyes.

Just then a quartet struck up a tune and the music shattered her momentary reverie. She knew she had all of about two minutes to greet the prince and then get started with the host of images she needed to capture. There were titans of industry, political muckety-mucks and a collection of pandering celebrities already queued up, desperate for their own eight-by-ten glossy with famous royalty that they could mount on their wall like some taxidermied bear head. She had no time for gawking.

The prince walked slowly down the line, greeting one by one the organizers of the charitable event and members of the Monafortian embassy staff, all standing in the VIP zone near Emma. Everyone seemed to do a perfectly fine job with his or her allotted three seconds of undivided royal attention, making casual chitchat with the prince. Until it came to Emma. Because as soon as the man approached her, she felt as if her tongue had become a sandbag weighted down in her mouth. And while a curtsey wasn’t mandatory, it was what she’d planned on, until that very moment when her eyes made contact with his deep, sapphire ones, and she knew for certain she’d face-plant on his expensive royal bespoke Italian shoes if she dared try any tricky maneuvers.

Without staring too much like a creeper at those amazing eyes, Emma tried to give him a discreet once-over, but it felt awkward, like gawking at a stranger’s tattoo, or trying to read the T-shirt message on the chest of a person walking by. She knew she’d only look a bit stalkerish, and stalker-chic so wasn’t her style. But then she found herself focused on his thick, wavy black hair, which led to a fleeting fantasy that involved burying her fingers in it while he was busily…Oh, stop it! She tamped down that betraying though, dismissing it as some stupid latent celebrity crush, all the while recognizing that her darned body was selling her out and swooning over the guy despite her strong inner protestations.

So when Prince Adrian bent his head down but raised his gaze and continued to fix it on Emma’s eyes only, reaching both hands out for hers — totally defying royal protocol — she simply stammered, and wished that he’d lean more toward her mouth, darn it! And when he pressed his lips to the top of her hand, she could only gulp as she tried to clear what felt like a giant hairball lodged in her throat.

“Peas to greet you, slur,” she said, failing miserably to just mouth correctly those five simple words, turning about fifty shades of red in the process. She felt certain she was going to be fired on the spot.

But instead of calling for his royal bodyguards to toss her out into the cold December night on the grounds of insanity, he clasped her hand in both of his for a moment longer, his eyes continuing to hold hers, and smiled broadly. Emma could feel her heart beating in her throat, and she wondered for a minute if he was only holding onto her hands until someone else could grab them and haul her away. In handcuffs maybe. You’re under arrest for complete and utter lunacy.

“The pleasure is all mine. And please, call me Adrian,” he said in what seemed barely a whisper, adding with a wink, “Oh, and by the way, I’m most peased to greet you as well.”

Emma was so glad she wasn’t prone to throwing up because if she were, that would’ve been the unfortunate outcome of her moment in the spotlight with her “date.” Instead she let him cling to her hand a second longer while she trembled just a bit and hoped to God her palms weren’t sweating too badly.

The spell was broken when Caroline blurted out, and not in her inside voice, “Oh, my God. His accent is orgasmic. And did you get a look at that friend of his?”

Adrian and Emma’s heads followed her friend’s pointing finger, which led right to the tall, handsome brown-eyed blonde man standing beside the prince.

“You mean Darcy?” Adrian said, waving his hand dismissively. “He’s hardly anything to write home about!” He laughed as he elbowed his friend in the ribs.

“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Darcy said. “He’s just jealous that women always choose me over him.”

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**Buy “Something in the Heir” now!

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**Contact Jenny:

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New York Dolls

January 5, 2015 3 Comments

“New York Dolls” by Catherine L. Hensley

Blurb:

It’s Fashion Week in New York, and Denton Hodges just got her first big assignment for Glitter magazine.

Denton’s assignment: Get in the show at the posh Regency Viscount Hotel, and find a story. But a chance encounter with hard-partying starlet Amber Donovan forever changes the course of the night—and Denton’s life. After a night of being chased by the paparazzi, swimming in swag bags, and falling heart over heels for Hollywood hunk Chris West, Denton’s not just on the story. She is the story.

Suddenly, Denton’s no longer merely a low-level assistant. Amber’s latching on like a BFF from hell, Chris is flirting and cooking her dinner, and as Denton falls for the real people behind the tabloid screen, neither knows about her ties to Glitter. Only Denton holds the secret—or so she thinks. Is Anna Creel, Glitter’s icy beauty editor, on to her? Will Denton be able to write a story exposing her new friends? And is Chris more than just a friend, or did Glitter get the headline right—“Chris and Amber: Hot Nights!”

Step into the spotlight, and peek beyond the red carpet in New York Dolls.

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EXCERPT

Chapter 1

2008

“THE SHOW’S AT FIFTY-SEVENTH AND Seventh. Here’s your press badge and mini mic. If you see anyone, just be casual, make chit-chat, see what they think of the show. We’ve heard Amber Donovan may be there, but nothing’s confirmed. Just try to blend in, have some drinks. It starts at five thirty. Oh, and remember…you’re Anna Creel.”

Right. My first assignment! I never thought it would involve false aliases and conversational spying for Glitter magazine, but…my first assignment! At New York City’s Fashion Week nonetheless. Something I had absolutely no experience or serious interest in, but I wouldn’t have to worry about that tonight. I’d be Anna Creel. She knows all about the fashion in-crowd. Right?

“Isn’t Anna…?” I started to ask my boss, Liz. “She’s our fashion and beauty editor,” Liz replied. Right. Then why isn’t she…

“We have too many shows booked this week. She already has Malandrino and Posen tonight. She doesn’t have time for Isla Dominici. Just smile and keep your eyes and ears open when you get there. Be yourself!”

“As Anna Creel,” I muttered.

“Right!”

Liz was friendly. Maybe not one hundred percent genuine, but this was Glitter after all. You don’t get to be chief editorial assistant of the country’s biggest and most popular celebrity magazine by being your real self. I’d heard she was a Manhattan import, just like myself, but from some little town in Michigan. She hid it relatively well. No accent, three-inch stilettos, a skin-tight suit dress, and a conspicuously obvious D&G belt can make anyone look like a tried and true New York power woman. But Liz was plumper and didn’t look quite as polished as some of the other reporters, and she spoke with a monotone, to-the-point voice, all of which kept her from entirely fitting the Glitter mold. If I ever needed someone in the office to watch my back, I knew Liz, with our shared outsider origins, could do the job.

Watch my back? At Glitter? I couldn’t believe I was thinking so ruthlessly. But this place was cutthroat. I could tell after only a few days. (I bet the editorial assistant underlings at Martha Stewart Living weren’t so fearful. On second thought…maybe they were.) You didn’t advance at Glitter through sheer hard work and determination, and it certainly didn’t involve climbing the traditional corporate ladder. Getting the scoop—or the source—was your most important job function. Even if it meant seducing the married hunk who’s on the number-two-ranked drama on television.

“If something like that were to happen…and of course it does not… We obviously don’t condone that kind of behavior here,” Liz had told the other two EAs and myself after the office gossip broke on my second day. “But that wasn’t me.”

To get to the top of the hottest weekly celeb rag, apparently the rules of deception were the rules of the game. Anna Creel I would be then, for tonight at least.

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**Buy “New York Dolls”: Amazon (paperback & Kindle) Barnes & Noble (paperback & Kindle) Books-A-Million (paperback) 48fourteen (paperback & eBook)

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**About Catherine Hensley:

Catherine L. Hensley is a professional freelance editor and writer. From fiction and nonfiction manuscripts to academic pieces, she provides an extensive range of copyediting, proofreading, content editing, and writing services to a wide variety of clients located around the United States and abroad.

A native of south Louisiana, Catherine received her master of arts degree in creative writing and media studies from New York University and her bachelor of arts degree in English from Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, with minors in history and mass communication. Her writing has appeared in The Advocate (Louisiana’s largest newspaper), OT Practice magazine, Quiet Mountain: New Feminist Essays, and Mused, the BellaOnline Literary Review. For more, visit http://www.catherinehensley.com.

**Contact Catherine: Website Facebook GoodReads Twitter

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Give Your Heart a Break

December 23, 2014 1 Comment

HAPPY RELEASE DAY, HELEN PETERSON!

“Give Your Heart a Break” by Helen Peterson

Blurb:

Gorgeous? Check.

Wealthy? Check.

Sweet? Double check.

That is until Mason’s ex-fiancé reappears, determined to steal him back. With more than winning Mr. Perfect’s heart on the line, is Rachel finally ready to give her heart a break?

**Buy “Give Your Heart a Break”: Amazon Barnes & Noble Goodreads Kobo

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**About Helen Peterson:

**Contact Helen: Facebook Twitter

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**Check out other stops on Helen’s Release Day Tour:

Chick Lit Goddess
Jersey Girl Book Reviews
Polished and Bubbly
Samantha March
The Little Reading Cabin
Grace Snoke
Chick Lit Plus

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**GIVEAWAY**

Click HERE to enter to win a 3-month subscription to Birchbox!

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**Side note: As a beta reader for this book, I have to say that it was so good, so be sure to pick up your copy now!

That’s a Promise

December 16, 2014 2 Comments

“That’s a Promise” by Victoria Klahr

Blurb:

Pain isn’t new to me.
I’ve been to hell only to find it never really leaves when you get back. It haunts me through nightmares, unrequited love, lies, broken hearts, and now death.
A monster almost took my life.
My best friend carries half my soul a world away.
My boyfriend broke my heart but refuses to let me go.
And my father is dead.
I don’t believe in fate and I don’t believe in happily-ever-afters, but for some reason, I still hope.
Live, even with a tainted spirit.
Long for my other half to come back to me.
Risk another broken heart, just to feel loved again.
And refuse to let another horror break me.
In the face of my most recent tragedy, I have to decide whether forgiveness is something I can give. But even if that’s an option, can I be forgiven?

Excerpt:

I’M IN A SEA of black. The beautiful May day gives no impression that there is any sadness or grief in the air. It’s one of those days that you want to spend outside, smelling the new blooming flowers, getting some sun, and walking in the grass barefoot, but none of those things hold any interest for me.

Everything is a blur around me, a haze that mirrors my own depression. I know people are talking to me, but I don’t hear them. They express sadness in their words, but most of them never sympathized with us before today. They talk as if they know us, but where were they before? They live their lives talking shit behind people’s backs, but don’t see the hypocrisy in their fake condolences.

I’ve learned to ignore the whispers and stares, a lesson received repeatedly as I grew up in what some would call an “unconventional” household. Apparently punching everyone who bullies you isn’t the socially acceptable way to handle things, so I try to just ignore them. I don’t want or need to let any of their negativity in, so I remain quiet. There’s been enough sadness in our lives, and there’s no need for nasty words from nosey neighbors to pile onto that pain.

A person in a black suit finishes shoveling dirt into the cold, deep grave. I focus on the earth closing around the person I loved so immensely and to whom I felt so close. The ground consumes the casket and takes my loved one away into a lonely pit; permanently putting an end to the best person I will ever know.

I look at my dad sitting next to me. He is distraught, but well medicated for the occasion, only showing emotion when he remembers he just lost the love of his life. He seems to have aged ten years in the past week. He was once the strongest and most commanding person I knew, but today, he looks like a child. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything except for the essentials. He exists, but he’s not living. He looks up at me and I feel like maybe he wants to reach out and say something to comfort me, but I know his internal pain limits him from showing affection. I put my hand on his shoulder to show I’m here, hoping he understands what I mean.

People are finally leaving. Leaving us behind to grieve together in peace. That’s a lie. There is no peace for us, and there won’t be for a long time. With the preparations for the funeral complete, I have all the time in the world to sit and think about the gravity of what I just lost. That’s not peace. That’s torture.

“Dad,” I say, “I think that maybe we should head back to the house.” He sits there, giving no indication that he heard me suggest our departure.

“Dad,” I try again, after a minute. “Let’s say goodbye, and go home.” I can’t stand to be here any longer.

He stands slowly and walks over to the heap of dirt covering a life that was once vibrant and lively. He collapses onto the mound, and at first I’m startled by the sudden fall. Once I hear the heart wrenching sobs that escape his mouth, I understand he is saying his goodbye. I hear him murmuring about his undying love, and decide to give him some privacy.

I look toward the entrance of the cemetery, shaking myself out of the haze that I was in. I don’t even recall walking this far to get to the grave site, but I don’t want to remember, so I don’t try to conjure up the memory.

A figure leans against one of the nearby trees and I start to sweep my eyes past until recognition hits me in the chest heavily. I don’t think he wanted to be seen, but he was caught and he knows it. My throat starts to constrict and pain obstructs my chest.

He hasn’t changed much since the last time I saw him, except that he has no smile on his face today. He’s still breathtakingly handsome… but he’s also still the asshole I left behind at the café a year ago.

Why is he here? How dare he show his face here on a day like today?

I’m in such a state of shock that I lose concept of space and time. I stare at him for a good two minutes before I jerk back to reality.

He gives me a small wave and a slight lift of his beautiful lips. It is a sad and withdrawn smile, enough for me to know he understands exactly what happened.

I glare back at him, not in any mood to be civil, and start stomping my way toward him, intent on giving him a piece of my mind. He has no right to be here.

As I draw closer to him, he pulls himself from the tree and approaches. We meet up and stand so close I almost forget the reason why I came up to him. In my mind’s stuttering state, he speaks first.

“Hi Josie.” His deep, dominant voice washes over me, and I’m angry that it thrills me to hear his voice again. I swallow down the warmth, and try to keep my guard intact.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss. “I’m pretty sure I made it clear I never wanted to see you again. How dare you show your face here?”

“Jo… I just wanted to come and say how sorry I am about your loss. I heard about Will, and I needed to come see how you were doing,” he responds, sadness clear from the roughness of his voice.

Hearing him use my nickname with his gentle tone makes me weak. I wrap my arms around my body to try and keep my anger from being impacted by his kindness.

“I don’t want you here,” I whisper, looking anywhere but at him. I don’t want him to see me break down ever again, but between my loss and seeing him, I don’t know if I will be able to hold back. In that one sentence, filled with the longing and sadness that I didn’t want to show, I made it clear to him that I’m still hurting over what happened.

“I understand. I needed to make sure you’re okay. I know how hard this is for you.” He slowly starts to reach out his hand, and while my cheek tingles at the thought of him touching even an inch of my skin, I think he knows that it’s unwelcome. As I turn the slightest fraction away, he lets his hand fall back to his side, a look of regret crossing his face.

“I can’t do this. Dad needs me right now. I have to take him back to the house,” I say, wanting to get rid of him and the memories he is bringing back.

“Let me stay with you for the day. We can catch up and I can help you with things. Today is tough as it is, let me help,” he says, confidence and determination starting to come back into his personality. This is the man I knew.

I hear footsteps behind me as my dad walks up to us. He stands there, lost in a world I don’t want to enter. He said his goodbye and now he’s retreated back into his shell. I look up at my unexpected visitor and get ready to tell him goodbye for the last time.

“Mr. Sommers, I am so sorry for your loss,” he says softly to my dad. “Josie and I were talking about heading back to the house to catch up and throw away some of the food your neighbors sent over.” He gives me a sly smile and then returns his attention to my dad. “Would one extra person be okay?”

My dad grunts and gives a barely noticeable nod, and we both know him well enough to know that he has accepted the offer. I shake my head at his response.

“Dad, go ahead to the car. I’ll be there in a couple minutes,” I say, hoping to convince Blake Porter to leave. When Dad is almost at the car, I whip myself around to scowl at the same stubborn Blake I used to know. He has a small cocky smirk playing on his lips, and I don’t like how distractingly handsome he still is.

“You need to leave and never come back around here or me again. I can barely even look at you without wanting to punch you in your stupid face!”

The last part is only partially true; a part of me wants to hit him again, and the other part wants to kiss him. His smile grows a little after he hears me say that, because he knows me well enough to figure out that I really do want to hit him.

“I get that you never wanted to see me again after the last time, Josie. Just let me be here for you today. Let me be your friend this one time. I can help. You know I can help,” he says sincerely. I know he can help, but that scares me.

I take a deep breath and try to sort out my thoughts. He is the last person I need to be talking to, and the second person I’ve wanted to talk to since this happened. I know exactly who is standing before me, and I know without a doubt that if I let him back in, I will be hurt and betrayed all over again.

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**About author, Victoria Klahr:

Victoria Klahr (pronounced “Claire”) lives in Elizabeth City, North Carolina with her husband and daughter, Stephen and Alexis. She loves her chug (Pug/Chihuahua), Bandit, and daughter to pieces. She is a huge and proud book nerd who looks at her bookshelf in admiration daily. When she’s not daydreaming about book boyfriends and fantasizing about being a badass heroine like Rose Hathaway, she’s busy doing schoolwork for her Bachelor’s degree in Psychology and writing the stories that speak to her in her head. She loves peanut butter with Oreos, good friends, amazing gossip, driving in the middle of merge lanes, comedies, crude humor, pretending like she can dance, pretending like she can kick major ass, and a really, really good laugh.

**Contact Victoria: Email Website Facebook GoodReads

**Find “That’s a Promise”: Amazon Barnes & Noble GoodReads

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

One Day This Will All Make Sense

December 9, 2014 Leave a Comment

“One Day This Will All Make Sense” by Katie Jansson Shahin

Blurb: In the three years since Emma, Human Resource professional by trade and writer at heart, moved to Los Angeles from Sweden it has been anything but smooth sailing. When she was offered a new job Emma thought she had finally found the security she’d been looking for since moving to the city of her dreams.

The bliss is short-lived as Emma struggles to adjust in her new role and environment. She fails to learn how to play by the unwritten rules and office politics of corporate America, leaving her defenseless against a new boss who soon makes it clear that he wants her gone. After having put her writing before her HR career for so long, Emma knows it was just a fluke when she was hired and is determined not to let it slip away. But she cracks under the pressure and is ultimately fired. Will she be able to dig herself out again? Or has she peaked at 27? More importantly, will she survive in the city that represents everything she has dreamt of becoming?

EXCERPT

Not one day had passed since I had moved to LA two and half years earlier when I wasn’t grateful and aware of what city I was in. Not one morning had passed that I had driven to work, which was usually around six forty-five a.m., when my mind hadn’t gone completely quiet and at ease at the sight of Vine Street, coming off of the 101 South. I knew I was fortunate. Many young people in Sweden dreamed of moving to LA and tried so hard to find ways to stay once they made it here on a student visa. For the most part, people either got married or never found a way to stay. I, on the other hand, had been lucky. My dad had moved to the US almost twenty years earlier and since he’d become a naturalized citizen before I turned twenty-one, I had gotten a green card through him. I continued down Vine Street and saw the W Hotel sign up in the sky, and a few blocks farther down I passed the bright red building that housed The Redbury hotel, with the world famous Capitol Records Building on my right side.

As I got on to the 101 North, driving ten miles an hour in Friday traffic, I wondered to myself what it was about LA that had me so wrapped around its finger. The first time I fell in love with California was when I watched The O.C. Shortly thereafter my dad moved to Orange County from Wisconsin, and I was able to go visit the place I had only seen on TV. Of course, the entire show was filmed in LA, but I didn’t know that back then. I then discovered the show Entourage, and that’s when real things started to happen inside me. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. Was it the beautiful weather and the smell of freshly-cut grass all year round? Was it the wide streets you could barely cross in time before the streetlight turned red for the pedestrians again? Was it the buildings that on the outside looked like nothing more than a chunk of cement, but on the inside were beautifully decorated lounges? Was it the powerful rush I had gotten the first time I went ninety on the empty freeway at three a.m.? Or was it simply the fact that I knew I was in the same city where all the Hollywood movies came from?

While I saw all the beauty that LA had to offer, I wasn’t oblivious to all the things that other people usually saw as the downside of moving to LA: the constant sound of traffic and honking; the fuel-filled air and the fog; the enormous city where everything was separated by insane distances; the huge freeways; the above-ground electrical lines; the cracks in the pavement left by earthquakes. I saw all those things too. But my love for this city was an unconditional kind of love—I didn’t love LA despite its flaws. I loved it even more for them. We could be flawed together.

**Buy “One Day This Will All Make Sense”: Amazon – US Amazon – UK

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**About Katie Jansson Shahin:

Katie’s love for writing is versatile. Before taking the big leap into novel writing she focused mostly on screenwriting. In addition to that, she has a blog where she writes book reviews and articles on writing: An Authorista’s Blog.

Katie is originally from Sweden but moved to California summer 2010 and currently resides in the North Bay area just outside of San Francisco. When she’s not working on her writing, she is an HR and recruiting professional. Although her debut novel is not a biography, as you may have guessed, One Day This Will All Make Sense is heavily inspired by her own experience moving from Sweden to Los Angeles and her life there.

**Contact Katie: Blog Twitter

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