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Women's Fiction

Real Chick Lit for Real Chicks: The Meredith Schorr Collection

February 15, 2014 1 Comment

I’m a huge fan of Meredith Shorr, so i’m excited to share with you her box set of her books!

RealChickLit-Cover

Real Chick Lit for Real Chicks: The Meredith Schorr Collection

This boxed set brings together three favorites from bestselling chick lit author Meredith Schorr. Blogger Girl follows Kimberly Long, a book blogger asked to review the debut novel of her high school nemesis. In A State of Jane, “good girl” Jane Frank is looking for love, but when all of her dates flake out on her, she decides to turn the tables. In Just Friends With Benefits, Stephanie Cohen is determined to turn the one who got away into “the one” despite advice from a friend not to put all her eggs in one bastard. Meredith Schorr’s characters are believable, relatable, and authentic—women who are easy to root for, despite their flaws. The stories are humorous, heartfelt, and definitely real.

**Buy the collection!: Amazon   Barnes & Noble   iTunes – Coming soon!

**(It’s on sale now for only $0.99 cents!)**

MeredithSchorr

**About Meredith Shorr: A born and bred New Yorker, Meredith Schorr discovered her passionfor writing when she began to enjoy drafting work-related emails way more than she was probably supposed to, and was famous among her friends for writing witty birthday cards. After trying her hand writing children’s stories and blogging her personal experiences, Meredith found her calling writing “real” chick lit for real women.  When she is not hard at work on her next novel, Meredith spends her days as a trademark paralegal.  She is a loyal New York Yankees fan and an avid runner. Meredith is the author of three published novels, Just Friends with Benefits, A State of Jane and Blogger Girl and the full boxed set, Real Chick Lit for Real Chicks: The Meredith Schorr Collection.

**Contact Meredith: Website   Facebook   Twitter

Filed Under: Real Chick Lit for Real Chicks: The Meredith Schorr Collection Tagged With: Book sale, Books, Box set, Chick-Lit, Meredith Schorr, Real Chick Lit for Real Chicks: The Meredith Schorr Collection, Women's Fiction

Learning to Love

February 13, 2014 1 Comment

Books by Sheryl BrowneSBBooks

Learning to Love

Blurb:

Explores the Fragility of Love, Life, and Relationships ~

~ and the sometimes tenuous bonds that hold people together. At the heart of the story is an emotionally withdrawn, angry little boy who is grieving the loss of his mother. Ten-year old Jake’s repressed anger is aimed at his dad, who In Jake’s mind deserted his mum in her hour of need. Dr David Adams, Jake’s father, is carrying the heavy burden of guilt around the death of his wife. For all his training as a doctor, David had been as ill-equipped to deal with her decision to delay anti-leukemic treatment for their unborn baby’s sake, as he is to deal with his son’s grief. He feels Jake’s anger is justified. Now, alone with his son, he has no idea how to reach him.

Andrea Kelly, David’s neighbour, mum of three and carer to her mother, is forced by circumstances to take refuge at David’s house and becomes instrumental in bringing this lost little boy and his equally lost father together. Andrea also has relationship issues and, as her attraction to David grows, she wonders whether she should love a man who is, by his own admission, flawed.

CHAPTER ONE TEASE

‘Shi-ooot!’ Noting the time on his radio alarm, David Adams threw back the duvet and shot along the landing. Poised to press down the handle on his son’s bedroom door, he debated, and then knocked and waited. ‘Jake, clock’s ticking,’ he called. ‘Time to get up.’

Shivering in only his boxers, David curbed his impatience and wondered again what had possessed him to rent an Edwardian townhouse in an antiquated village, which retained many of its charming period features, including the plumbing. There was the “spectacular” view, of course, which the estate agent had assured him people would die for. Blowing out an icy breath, David glanced through the high-sashed landing window to where the distant peaks of the “majestic” Malvern Hills were eclipsed by a charcoal grey mist, and concluded if they’d viewed it from where he was standing, they very probably did.

Jake was right. The place was a dump. And David was deluded, thinking he might do a better job of parenting here than he had in Oxford. So, why were they here? For his son’s sake. David reminded himself why he’d made the decision to take the position at Hibberton Health Centre. So he could start afresh. Work locally, while Jake attended the local school; and try to rebuild his relationship with his son.

‘Jake,’ he called again, not really expecting an answer. The most Jake had offered by way of communication since his aunt had dropped him off yesterday was the odd monosyllabic grunt. David couldn’t blame him. If he were Jake, he wouldn’t have much to say to someone who hadn’t been much of a father either.

Swallowing back the bitter taste of regret, David tried again. ‘Jake, come on. Get showered and dressed, please, or we’ll be late.’

No response.

Despairing, David squeaked the door open. ‘Jake?’

Apparently determined to ignore him, Jake remained mute, moodily stuffing his feet into his trainers, his hair tousled from a fitful night’s sleep. Awake most the night himself, thanks to rattling pipes and creaking floorboards, David had heard Jake tossing and turning. ‘Come on, small-fry, move it. Don’t want to get a black mark on your first day, do you?’ He tried cajoling him.

That worked. Eye-contact nil, the boy bent to scoop his T-shirt from the floor and then attempted to push past David to the landing. ‘Jake!’ Standing his ground, David tried to inject some authority into his voice; his ten-year old son’s reply was an impudent, ‘What?’

Noting Jake’s now openly mutinous scowl, David sighed and stood aside. ‘Go and get washed,’ he said, an argument on the boy’s first day being the last thing he wanted. ‘You’ll need a clean shirt,’ he suggested, as Jake shuffled grudgingly onwards.

‘Don’t have none,’ Jake retorted, without a backward glance.

‘Any, Jake. And there are plenty of clean shirts on the dresser. I put them there last night. I’d like you to put one on, please.’

‘And I like this one,’ Jake imparted, before disappearing into the bathroom to slam the door shut behind him. Great. David raked a hand through his hair. He was testing him, he knew. Wearing his insolence like a suit of armour, all his emotions stuffed safely inside.

David wished he knew what say, how to reach him. Being there for him might be a start, he decided, steeling his resolve to make that his first, and only, priority: one-on-one quality time with his son. If only he could get to the place where Jake actually wanted to spend time with him, doing whatever ten-year old kids … David’s thoughts screeched to a halt as a reality-check hit him head on.

He didn’t know what Jake did.

He had absolutely no idea what Jake was currently into. Yes, he knew what films he liked, the cinema being the safest bet when he had seen him.

But what music or computer games were cool, David had no clue. And, other than Big Macs or popcorn, he didn’t even know what food his son enjoyed. He needed to bridge the gap somehow.

Maybe he should get him a dog? Jake had wanted one, been desperate for one, before. Curbing his thoughts before they wandered too far down that dark road, David sucked in a breath and attempted to focus on the here and now. He couldn’t realistically fit in walking a dog, though, could he? Training it. With Jake to look after and with a new job to start, he was going to be pushed for time as it was. Feeling defeated before he’d even got started, David headed back to his own room, wondering what he should make Jake for breakfast. He’d barely touched the pasta he’d offered him last night.

Burger and chips, maybe?

Still pondering, David reached for the curtains hanging precariously in the huge bay window. The agent had laughingly referred to these depressing brown and tangerine floral things as retro. He needed to get new ones. The place needed cheering up. The natural wood flooring could hopefully stay, but the 60s nylon carpet had to go. ‘Grrreat!’ David closed his eyes and silently counted to five, as the “retro” curtains pooled at his feet, complete with rail.

****

Oops. Andrea pulled her gaze away from the semi-naked male torso in the bedroom window opposite. Quite a tasty torso, too. Pity the window ledge interrupted the view.

**Additional comments by Sheryl:

A little about the story behind the story: Learning to Love started life as a short – the theme of which was bereavement in childhood, which was accepted by the Birmingham City University to be published in their Anthology, Paper and Ink.

Not an easy subject to tackle some might say. My reasons for doing so were feelings around loss in my own life. Featuring a widowed father and his son, Learning to Love looks at the loss of a parent in childhood and how a child dealing with such a tragedy might be encouraged to grieve. Life events had fuelled the emotion. Research, talking to children who had suffered in such a way and to the surviving spouse, provided the story I felt I needed to tell. What struck me above all was the coping mechanism devised by one lone parent. He called it The Memory Box: A simple shoebox, stuffed full of photographs of the child’s mother along with other personal trinkets that would remind him of her. Importantly, remind him of the good times, the positive things his mother brought to his life, the times they laughed together. It was easy to see how humour plays a great part in the healing process. I called my short The Memory Box, in honour of that father and his little boy.

Poignant, yet humorous – or as a reviewer put it “fiction that “deals with loss & betrayal in manner that lifts it far above average ‘chick lit’”, Learning to Love is truly written from the heart.

TheMemoryBoxSB

SherylBrowne**Contact Sheryl:

Sheryl’s Website  /  Safkhet Publishing   /  Amazon.co.uk  /  Amazon.com

Author Facebook  /  Romantic Novelists’ Association

Sheryl is a Loveahappyending Lifestyle Author and Feature Editor.

Twitter: @sherylbrowne

**Buy Sheryl’s books!:

Learning to Love  /  Somebody to Love  /  A Little Bit of Madness  /  Warrant for Love  /

Recipes for Disaster

Filed Under: Learning to Love Tagged With: Books, Chick-Lit, Learning to Love, Sheryl Browne, Women's Fiction

Mail-Order Groom

February 13, 2014 2 Comments

MailOrderGroomCover

Blurb:

A romantic comedy about an American woman who marries a stranger from Poland after her fiancé leaves her right before the wedding.

Lisa is about to marry the love of her life and have the wedding of her dreams, but her world is shattered when she finds her fiancé, Jeff, in the arms of another woman. When he calls the wedding off and struts around town with his new love, Lisa is heartbroken, and she wants revenge. She gets it by marrying a total stranger at the wedding who she found on Mail-Order-Grooms.Com. He’s from Poland, and he needs to marry an American woman so that he can stay in America. He’s willing to pay her money for it. Lisa thinks he’s the perfect answer. It won’t be a real marriage, and her best friend Daphne insists she won’t even have to live with him. Lisa races to the altar with her stand-in groom and says “I do,” but she soon discovers that revenge isn’t as sweet or as simple as she thought it would be.

About the author: Cindy Flores Martinez was born and raised in a suburb of Los Angeles. She has an MFA in Creative Writing with an emphasis in Screenwriting. She has been a screenwriting instructor, screenplay consultant, script reader, and screenplay collaborator. Cindy’s debut novel, Mail-Order Groom, which was inspired by her own Polish ancestry, started out as a screenplay and movie project. She spent years shopping it around Hollywood, New York, and other parts of the world and had two well-known actors, one of them Academy Award nominated, interested in portraying the main character’s parents. After not finding the success she wanted, Cindy officially canceled her film production company in November of 2009 and embarked on the journey of turning her screenplay into a novel. For more information, please visithttp://cindyfloresmartinez.com.

**Click HERE to buy the book for FREE on Amazon, (Feb. 12th, 13th & 14th)

MailOrderGroomFreePromo

**Click HERE to see other s tops on Cindy’s Fictionella Tours!

Filed Under: Mail-Order Groom Tagged With: Books, Chick-Lit, Cindy Flores Martinez, Fictionella Tours, Mail-Order Groom, Romance, Women's Fiction

Weightless

February 12, 2014 Leave a Comment

Book review of “Weightless”

WeightlessCoverPic

“Weightless” by Michele Gorman

Book Description:

Annabel’s not surprised when nobody recognizes her at her 10 year reunion. The spotty fat teen nicknamed AnnaBall by the school bullies is long gone. But standing on the edge of the popular crowd, she still feels like that girl. That is, until Jack, her teen crush, starts flirting with her. Much to her amusement, he has mistaken her for Christy Blake, Annabel’s chief tormenter before she moved to France in their last year.

It’s just a bit of fun at first, letting Jack believe she’s Christy. After all, he was nuts about her before she said au revoir to England. And when he asks Annabel out, the fun becomes something even more interesting. The more they date the deeper they fall for each other. So what if Annabel has to fib a little to keep up the façade?

As the lies start compounding, and she realizes that they’re falling in love, she has to tell him who she really is. But she’ll lose the love of her life if she does.

My Review:

“Weightless” by Michele Gorman was a cute and whimsical short story, (64 pages). There were a lot of twists and turns that I didn’t expect and that’s what I liked most. The end surprised me a lot, making it anything but predictable. Annabel’s (Christy’s) character was very well written and I liked her quite a bit. Jack’s character was also very intriguing, up until the very end. (Nope, no spoilers!)

If you’re looking for a quick book that you can read in a few short hours, “Weightless” is the book for you. Michele Gorman is a very talented author and I cannot wait to see what she comes up with next!

I give this book 5 stars!

*****

“WEIGHTLESS”

CHAPTER ONE

‘Ow.’ My beer bottle clinked against my teeth as I felt a hand gently grasp my shoulder from behind.

‘Oh my god, Christy, is that you? How great to see you!’

‘I’m not-’… Christy, I was about to say. But then I turned and saw whose hand it was. ‘Hi.’

‘Ten years, can you believe it?’ asked Jack as his smile threw me back to our last year in school.  ‘You look… different but I’d still recognize you anywhere. Did you come from France or are you based here now? Wait, we both need another drink and then we can have a proper catch-up.’ He pointed to my bottle. ‘Another beer? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, okay?’

He loped off to the bar where our former classmates jockeyed for the overworked barman’s attention. And I admit it, dear Reader. I ogled him. I took in his broad shoulders beneath the fitted black jacket, his long jeans-clad legs and wavy blonde mop of hair.

Jack Winslow, my unrequited love, had actually just spoken to me. He was buying my beer! … All right, so he thought he was buying Christy’s beer, but still, beggars shall not be choosy about free drinks.

When the reunion invitation arrived with the school’s annual newsletter I chucked it into the bin. Those newsletters arrived every year in December, as welcome as a urinary tract infection. They’d wheedled my mailing address from my Dad and I didn’t have the guts to ring them to opt out for fear that they’d extort me for a donation for the playing fields or something. I’d been miserable on those fields. I hated every rain-soaked blade of grass that slipped me up and each ankle-twisting rut.

Jack returned with our drinks. He set my empty bottle on a nearby table for me. ‘Cheers. To old times,’ he said.

‘Cheers. Jack Winslow, I can hardly believe it’s you. Here’s to new times, eh?’

His grin faltered, then widened. Great work, Annabel. Two minutes into the conversation is just the right time to suggest a future together.

‘Believe it,’ he said. ‘So tell me what you’ve been doing for the last decade. Are you living in London now?’

I nodded. ‘I live in Notting Hill. Well, according to the real estate agents anyway. My closest Tube is Shepherd’s Bush though. Where are you living?’

‘Well as long as we’re speaking in real estate agent, then I’m in South Hampstead. If we’re being honest then I’m off Finchley Road.’ He stared at me. There were tiny lines around his grey eyes and his lashes were darker than I remembered. ‘I’m really happy you’re here.’

I smiled, surprised that he even knew who I was. Then I remembered that he didn’t. To him I was Christy. Of course he’d be happy to see her. Christy and Jack were our school’s answer to Brangelina, though I don’t think they actually went out together. They just swanned around the school in their own golden glow, the central figures in our teenage romantic fantasies.

Jack and I stood at the edge of the room together watching the crowd. Five minutes ago I was just Annabel Markham, aka AnnaBall, Annabell-end, all-round bully fodder and soft target. Suddenly I was promoted to head of the class.

What a difference short-sightedness makes.

‘Do you wear glasses?’ I asked before taking a swig of my beer.

His brow furrowed as he hesitated. ‘Ah, well, no. Why?’

‘Oh, well, I guess I remembered you with specs, that’s all. I wasn’t implying that you need them.’ Please shut up, Annabel.

‘Oh, you mean reading glasses. Yes, I did sometimes, for my astigmatism. But that’s been corrected now.’

He kept staring at me like he had more to say. Surely he’d figured out that I wasn’t Christy. Aside from being among the tallest girls in our year, we looked nothing alike. My hair had been much darker, for one thing. And my waistline had been much bigger for another.

But he really did seem to think I was Christy. Which wasn’t at all how I imagined my night would go when I’d first walked in.

I nearly didn’t turn up at all. Who willingly goes back into the bear pit once they’re freed? Someone who’s flippin’ out of her mind, that’s who.

My heart started rattling in my chest before I’d even set foot through the Richmond pub’s door. Upstairs, a table was set up beside the function room’s entrance. Two women waited to label the alumni but I didn’t recognize them and it was easy enough to sidestep their markers and Scotch Tape. I was well-practiced in the art of creeping about.

I should never have let Kate convince me to come. Of course all the feelings I’d packed away over the years wouldn’t stay neatly stowed. They’d wait till I was surrounded by my classmates to spring their locks.

To my relief, at least there was no break in conversation when I stepped in to the room. A few faces turned curiously but, recognizing neither friend nor foe, quickly turned away again. After twenty minutes I was still alone on the fringes of the party. I may as well have been sixteen again.

Actually, that’s not quite true, because I was rarely left alone then. Given the alternative, this was a bit better.

So Jack’s chattiness came as quite the surprise. He’d said about ten words to me during the whole of secondary school.

‘Do you see any of the old crowd yet?’ he asked, scanning the room.

My skin suddenly crawled with dread. What if Christy herself was somewhere in the room? Or her friends? They’d know in a second that I was an imposter. Then they’d single me out in front of the whole room and it’d be eleventh grade all over again.  ‘No, no, I don’t see anyone.’ I started edging toward the door.

‘Me neither. But I might not recognize some of them. People can change a lot in ten years.’ He glanced again at the crowd. ‘Isn’t it odd? When you’re in school you can’t wait to get away from everyone and when you’ve left you’re excited to see them again.’

Speak for yourself. ‘Surely you didn’t hate school though. What’s there to hate when everyone loves you and you’re the teacher’s pet?’

He laughed before catching himself. ‘You’re exaggerating. I was never the teacher’s pet.’

‘But everyone did love you, so there’s no use denying it.’

‘What about you? The school went into mourning when you moved to France. Seriously, they flew the flags at half-mast. Bereavement counsellors were called in.’

I could think of at least one girl who wasn’t in mourning when Christy moved away. ‘No black arm bands?’

‘They changed our uniforms. Head to toe widow’s weeds for the girls and black suits for the boys.’

‘Well that was a long time ago,’ I said. ‘They probably renamed a building or something and went back to the usual uniforms eventually.’

He touched his beer to mine. ‘Immortalized in concrete. That’s my dream. Hey, what do you say we get out of here? No one else is here that we know anyway.’

‘Definitely! Let’s go.’ Before Christy sodding Blake turned up.

I’d tell him later about the confusion.

CHAPTER TWO

To my relief, we left Richmond completely. The last thing I needed was for poor Jack to see Christy sodding Blake and think he was having a doppelganger moment on the sidewalk. Though I still couldn’t believe we actually looked alike.

The Christy I knew had cold blue eyes. Cold-as-a-shark, dead-soul blue eyes. This detail was burned into my memory because she never looked away when she tormented me. That girl had not one ounce of shame in her.

My eyes were green. Dad said they were beautiful, like cat’s eyes, but he had a parental duty of kindness.

People can change a lot in ten years and small details get forgotten or misremembered. So Jack didn’t seem to notice the color change as we chatted all the way into Soho. I was surprised when he pointed to his office on Soho Square. I’d always pegged him as the City type.

‘You really work for Fox?’ I said as we found a tiny corner table in the crowded pub nearby. ‘Oiling the great wheels of Hollywood? Do you get to walk down the red carpet and get papped falling out of nightclubs with your knickers showing?’

He looked uncomfortable as he sipped his winter ale. ‘I’m not an actor, or Paris Hilton, despite the tiny dog I like to carry around in my gym bag.’ He saw my face. ‘Joking,’ he said as I laughed. ‘I don’t go to the gym.’

‘You don’t really have a-’

‘Dog? No. And I’m just a lowly marketer. I’m the cog inside the cog inside the cog inside the great wheels of Hollywood.’

‘Do you like it?’

‘I love it! What’s not to love about getting to see new releases before everyone else?’

‘Are you the one who hires the cheesy voiceover man? One man, one banana, one unholy love story,’ I intoned in my best radio announcer voice.

‘I wish I was, but they’re cheesed up before I get my hands on them. We’re the ones who create the marketing for Europe. It’s not glamorous but I work with a lot of nice people. What about you? Did you stay in France after school?’

Uh oh. There was really no way to answer his question without fibbing. A guilty pang made my stomach lurch. Was this where I had to tell Jack the truth, and watch that friendly, open smile fade as he realized we didn’t really have a history together? I knew what would happen then. The easy banter we’d shared all evening would dry up. It wouldn’t matter that it had nothing to do with who we’d been ten years before. Then he’d quickly finish his ale and make some excuse to leave.

I didn’t want that to happen. Not when we were having so much fun.

I could, however, tell him the truth about me. At least then it was just one omission rather than a series of lies that he’d hate me for.

‘I went to university here. In Leeds. I’ve been in England all along. How about you?’

He hesitated. Maybe when he said “school”, he meant university. Christy probably kept in touch after she moved, wrote him long letters that were definitely not postmarked Leeds. I steeled myself for his next response.

‘I took a year out and then went to Edinburgh,’ he said. ‘What a great city. Have you been?’

Relief flooded through me. Then I remembered that it was only a momentary stay of execution. ‘I’ve been up for the Fringe a few times,’ I said. ‘It is a great city. Did you travel the world on your year off, just you and your backpack and your little dog?’

‘Something like that, minus the dog and the backpack. What are you doing now?’

I told him about my dietetics practice. Like Jack, I loved my work. Unlike him, my job was about as far from glamorous as you could get without cleaning motorway lavatories for a living. ‘I’m really glad we ran into each other,’ I said as we sipped our drinks. My tension was easing away with distance from our old classmates. I was having a tremendous time, the kind of time I’d dreamed of all through school. There was no harm in carrying on the charade for a bit longer, just until I found a natural way to introduce the fact that I was another person altogether. No big deal.

‘I nearly didn’t go to the reunion,’ I said. ‘I didn’t-’

‘How could you even think about not going? You were the most popular girl in school!’

I clamped my mouth shut on my next words. I was about to tell him about not wanting to see the girls who’d bullied me. Girls like Christy. Must remember you are Christy. Obviously I’d make an excellent secret agent. Lips as secure as Fort Knox, that’s me.

‘It’s fate,’ he continued. ‘I mean really, what are the chances?’ He was staring into my eyes with a look that I’d begun to recognize in the past few years, since losing seventy pounds and gaining a social life. It wasn’t fate on Jack’s mind.

‘Well, it was a gathering of former classmates,’ I said, not daring to believe what I was seeing. ‘It would have been more fateful if we’d run into each other randomly in London.’

I hadn’t just had a crush on Jack in school. I truly thought I could love him one day, if only he knew I was alive. But I was about three miles below his radar, which was ironic since in those days I was probably visible from space. So I gathered bits of him wherever I could. His every utterance, and the cloying, spicy scent of his AXE Fusion, were committed to memory. I went to all his home football matches, even when it rained, even when I was almost the only one standing there, sodden at the edge of the hated playing field.

‘Well, fate or not, this is fantastic,’ he said.

He was doing it again. Looking at me like I was the last handful of Doritos in the bag. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

‘Could I see you again, do you think?’

Again I nodded. I wondered how he felt about muteness in a date. Wait a minute. Was he asking me on a date?! ‘I’d love that.’

Gently he leaned forward and put his warm lips to mine. It was a deal with the Devil, sealed with a kiss. By the time we traded cell numbers and said good night, I was floating about six inches above the London sidewalk.

*****

**From February 11th to February, get “Weightless” for FREE on Smashwords, using the coupon code: ZH34Q (not case-sensetive)**

**Buy “Weightless”: Amazon – US   Amazon – UK   Barnes & Noble

MicheleGormanPic**About author, Michele Gorman:

Michele Gorman is the #1 best-selling author of Bella Summer Takes a Chance and the Single in the City series. She also writes upmarket commercial fiction under the pen name Jamie Scott. Born and raised in the US, Michele has lived in London for 16 years.

Michele is represented by the Hardman & Swainson Literary Agency (www.hardmanswainson.com).

Michele can sign eBooks for yourself or as gifts through http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/expatdiaries. The personal inscription goes straight to the email or kindle of your choice.

**Contact Michele: Website   Blog   Facebook   Twitter

**For enquiries please contact michelegormanPR@nottinghillpress.co.uk**

Filed Under: Book Review, Weightless Tagged With: Book review, Books, Chick-Lit, Michele Gorman, Reunions, Weightless, Women's Fiction

Storm in a B Cup

February 12, 2014 4 Comments

Book review of “Storm in a B Cup”

StormInABCup

“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!

Filed Under: Book Review, Storm in a B Cup Tagged With: Book review, Books, Breast Cancer, Chick-Lit, CLP blog tours, Lindy Dale, Storm in a B Cup, Women's Fiction

Michelle Lam

February 11, 2014 2 Comments

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About author, Michelle Lam: Michelle is an author from a small town in Manitoba, Canada. She is a part-time stay-at-home-mom of two young kids, and a part-time English teacher for a rowdy group of 6th graders. She writes at night when the rest of the world (mostly her household, really) is sleeping. She has travelled in Thailand and Indonesia and currently lives in Vietnam. She loves to read, try new restaurants, and spend time with friends and family.

INTERVIEW

Describe yourself in five words: quirky, fun, adventurous, passionate… can “chocolate-lover” count?

Tell us about your book, “The Accidental Prophetess”: It’s a book about a woman named Natalie Richards (27). She gets fired over a dish soap ad, complains about her boss, and finds herself abducted, whisked to an underground facility, and proclaimed to be a long-lost prophet destined to save the world. The book is light-hearted, fast-paced and all around hilarious. Oh, and there’s a touch of romance, too.

What was the writing/editing/publishing process like for you? Honestly, I’ve loved it all. Most people say they love writing but hate the rest, but that hasn’t been true for me. I sometimes have to pretend to be an alternate identity in order to edit effectively, but talking aloud to your laptop is always improved with a fake accent, so what’s to worry about?

How did you celebrate your book being published? I danced around the house for a few minutes, then spent the next few days drastically alternating between elation (published! PUBLISHED!) to downright fear (What if my Grandma reads this and sees the word “hooha?”).

How did you come up with the title? I remember thinking about how odd it would be for someone to be telling the future without realizing they were doing it. I mean, how would they know? Would they ever find out? Who would tell them? Unless there was a secret society monitoring all communications…

Coffee or tea? Tea.

If your book were to be turned into a movie, who would you want to play the leading roles? Elisha Cuthbert would be Natalie. Chad Michael Murray would be Ethan. Channing Tatum would be Marc.

How has social media helped your career? I’m on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. I also have a blog. It’s great to develop a network of friends, fans, and like-minded people. I am learning so much from those who have gone before me, and I find it encouraging to hear what people have to say about my work.

What’s the best advice you’ve been given? Once you’re done your novel, set it aside and work on something else for at least a month. Then come back to it and edit ruthlessly.

Where is your favorite place to write? On my laptop sitting crosslegged on my bed. I have a desk, but I rarely use it.

Every author must have a…: Every author must have an idea. It all starts with an idea. Beyond that, having a never-say-die attitude and a big bag of M&Ms helps.

What are you working on right now? Right now I’m working hard on launching The Accidental Prophetess. As soon as it goes out, I’ll be back to writing again. I’ve got a lot of ideas bouncing around my brain and I’m excited about getting back to creating.

**Contact Michelle: Blog   Facebook   Twitter

TheAccidentalProphetess**Buy “The Accidental Prophetess”

Barnes & Noble   iTunes   Kobo   Smashwords

Filed Under: Michelle Lam Tagged With: Books, Chick-Lit, Guest Interview, Michelle Lam, The Accidental Prophetess, Women's Fiction

Amanda Brookfield

February 5, 2014 Leave a Comment

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About author, Amanda Brookfield: I have two elder sisters and a twin brother who is a lot quieter than me and with much longer legs. Our Dad was in the Foreign Office so we spent our childhood living in far-flung places like Shanghai and Stockholm. In fact, until the age of 32 I had never spent more than 3 years under the same roof. It’s left me with the opposite of ‘itchy feet’ – I like roots!

I fell in love with writing aged 11 when our English homework was to write a ghost story and I had my first taste of the thrill of being able to make it all up! My story was read out to the class for being so original so I knew I was onto something. Studying English at Oxford was, quite literally, a dream come true, but then real life got in the way (ie the need to pay bills) and I embarked on a career in advertising, climbing the greasy pole for four years, helping sell things like washing-powder, cold remedies and computers.

At 25, I got the chance to go and live in Argentina. I left advertising, set myself up as a freelance journalist and wrote my first novel, ‘Alice Alone’ which was published to critical acclaim in the UK and the USA in 1989. I haven’t stopped, or looked back, since.

I am now published by Penguin. At the last count I had produced fifteen novels and two sons. There will be no more offspring, but lots of books I hope.

GUEST INTERVIEW

Describe yourself in five words: Romantic. Energetic. Fun. Talkative. Sensitive.

What is your writing/editing/publishing process like? Long! I write a little bit every day, but beginning always by re-writing what I wrote the day before, so ‘progress’ can be extremely slow.  Gradually a first draft builds. Then I read through and re-write the draft.  That takes about 3 months.  Then I do a final re-write – which has been known to take anything from one week to five months.

Coffee or tea? BOTH: Tea to wake-up.  Coffee to stay awake.  Tea to wind down.

What gave you the inspiration for “Relative Love”? My own family, which is huge and messy, but wired through with love.

Hard/paperbacks or eBooks? For me personally, I prefer to hold a ‘real’ book in my hands.  It is a tactile relationship.  I like the solidity of a book, the way it smells, the way it ‘ages’ both during the course of reading and then on my shelves.  I also love the way an old book is a trigger for memories of where I was and what was going on in my life when I read it.  In this way all the books on my shelves are like old friends, each containing  a potted history of me and my journey through the world.

Describe your typical day: My alarm goes at 7.30am.  I hate waking up.  I go back to bed with tea and the newspapers, until….until a sense of personal disgrace persuades me (usually around 8.45) that it is time to get serious.  I need a measure of ‘order’ around me in order to work well, but if I am not careful I get sucked into writing emails instead of fiction.

I always stop for lunch – something sensible but with chocolate to follow– and do the Times Crossword while I eat.  It refreshes my brain to think cryptically. The afternoon is harder.  I am less sharp.  But on a good day I will manage another two hours writing.  I switch off with gentle jogs round the park opposite my house, singing (I am in several choirs) and eating out with friends.  I love a night in front of the TV too.  I always have a glass of wine, but never more than two if I am working the next day.

Do you have a favorite book you’ve written? If so, what is it? I am not just saying this but…Relative Love is my favourite book!  I grew so attached to the characters and their ordeals.  That is why I wrote a sequel.  In fact, one day I would love to turn it into a trilogy.

If you could meet any author, who would it be? If we are talking ANY author (as in, including the deceased!) I would have to say George Eliot, just so I could ask her about her wonderful and complex novel ‘Middlemarch’ – whether she planned it all from the start, or whether it just flowed…

If we are talking a ‘living’ author then I would love to meet Elizabeth Strout.  All four of her books have blown me away – such warmth, such intelligence, such story-telling, I adore her work.

When writing, do you prefer noise or silence in the background? Absolute silence.

What’s your favorite word? What an impossible question!  I love so many many words….So here are a few: Cherish. Forlorn. Kerfuffle.

Do you have any 2014 writing goals? My writing goal for 2014 is to finish the book I have been working on for the last two years.  I have told my agent there will be a manuscript for her to read by July…

Can you tell us about any upcoming projects? The book I hope soon to finish is about two sisters, their strange and difficult childhood and how that impacts on them as adults.  It is a book about identity and the difficulties of holding onto love through suffering.

After that I plan to take a 6 month sabbatical – a writer has to ‘live’ life in order to be able to write about it! – and then turn my hand to writing a third story about the Harrison family.

**Additional comments by Amanda: “Reading makes us feel less alone.  I love the idea of my characters entering and filling other people’s lives.”

GUEST POST

FIRST LOVE

It’s corny to say a book can change your life, but it can.  It happened to me when I read E M Forster’s Howards End at the age of sixteen.  I had always enjoyed English.  Reading stories, grappling with ideas rather than facts – choosing Literature as a subject for my sixth form had been a no-brainer.  My main love however, was drama.  I had even been toying with the idea of becoming an actress.  Reading Shakespeare and Edward Albee in the classroom, my hand was always first up in the hope of being selected for a part.  I had got through a good number of novels by then too – classics by Dickens and Hardy (on the school syllabus) and anything off my parents’ shelves that looked promisingly racy (Nabokov, Murdoch, Amis) – but Howards End was the first book which utterly, totally, from the first word to the very last, STOLE MY HEART.

You could say (at the risk of even greater corn) that I fell in love….not with the Schlegel sisters themselves of course, or poor Leonard Bast, or the Wilcoxes (ballsy and noisy apart from the first, elusive, mystical Mrs Wilcox,) or even the beautiful, spiritually-infused bricks and mortar of Howards End itself.  And I certainly entertained no private passion for E M Forster, who was famously gay and somewhat forlorn and even a little seedy when it came to his own quests for fulfilment beyond the business of writing.  No, what engaged me from that memorable opening line – ‘One may as well begin with Helen’s letters to her sister’ – was Forster’s story and the truths that rang out from it.  I had read great narratives and I had read worthy sentiments, but it wasn’t until Howards End that I experienced the power emanating from a perfect fusion of the two.

My sixth form copy of the book is trampled with biro, most of it simply marvelling at the sanity, the wisdom, the humour, the breath-taking perceptions, rather than offering any helpful pointers towards constructing a well-argued essay.  But as I came to see, the real ingenuity lay in how Forster had woven all those component parts together, binding them with his trademark, effortless imagery and a page-turner of a story that still makes me laugh out loud just as often as I reach for the Kleenex.  Wow.  Such simple ingredients, such a magnificent concoction; small wonder that by the second page my sixteen-year-old attitude had shifted from a lazy interest to something more akin to awe.

Thirty years on and every time I return to the book it gives me goose-bumps, for being so powerfully true and for resonating with the clunk of my sixteen year old intellect, making its first lurching move into a new world. First Love gets you like that, changing your life, grabbing you in the gut, never letting go.

RelativeLoveCoverPic**Contact Amanda:

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Filed Under: Amanda Brookfield Tagged With: Amanda Brookfield, Books, Chick-Lit, Guest Interview, Guest Post, Relative Love, Women's Fiction

Laura Chapman

January 31, 2014 3 Comments

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Author, Laura Chapman: Laura Chapman found a way to mix her love of romance and humor as a women’s fiction author and blogger. A 2008 graduate of the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, Laura studied journalism, English and history. She traveled across the United States as a writer/photographer before settling into a career in communications. She also maintains Change the Word, a blog devoted to promoting women’s fiction and documenting her experiences as a writer.

Born and raised in Nebraska – in a city, not on a farm – she is a devoted fan of football, British period drama, writing in bars and her cats, Jane and Bingley.

INTERVIEW

Describe your writing style in five words: Quirky. Humorous. Romantic. Hopeful. Representative. (I hope!)

When did you want to know you wanted to be a writer? I can’t pinpoint a moment. I’ve always loved stories and knew I wanted to tell them. The first book I remember writing was in first grade. It was pretty much a plagiarized version of a Halloween song we sang in music, but it was fully illustrated.

During writing your book, “Hard Hats and Doormats”, describe your writing/editing/publishing process: It was definitely a process. I spent almost two years thinking about the story and developing the characters before I started. Then, I wrote the first 50,000 words during National Novel Writing Month in 2010. I finished the first draft a few months later and went through about four more drafts over the next three years.

During editing I removed and added several scenes, tightened up the text, changed the POV, and gave the story more focus. Some of the edits came from suggestions from beta readers and editors, and others were ones I felt needed changing the longer I spent with the story.

After a couple of years of unsuccessfully querying editors and publishers, I finally found the right home for my story with Marching Ink in August. Publishing went smoothly thanks to Samantha. She guided me through the process and shouldered the heaviest parts of the load. At the same time, she gave me the opportunity to have a voice in everything from the cover design and editing to the marketing and promotion. Working with her was a dream and made this process enjoyable.

Hard/paperbacks or eBooks? I love reading paperbacks when I’m in need of reading for comfort. When I’m reading for work – or back when I did book reviews – I preferred eBooks. For some reason they help me concentrate better. I think I’ll always prefer a physical book to eBooks, but my limited bank account and shelf space disagree.

What inspires you to write? The stories constantly brewing in my head.

Who is your favorite author? I have lots of favorites, but Nora Roberts is the one I admire most. She’s able to meld creativity with efficiency to be highly productive and prolific. I wish I had her dedication and stamina. I also have mad respect for my girl, Jane Austen. The lady was the original women’s fiction writer, and she managed to write timeless pieces that still reach readers more than 200 years later.

Where do you get your ideas for story lines? Everywhere. Sometimes I’ll hear a phrase or see an image that inspires me. The idea for Hard Hats and Doormats started when I saw the jumbled pile of maps, hard hats, steel-toed boots, and flip-flops littering my rental car floor. I do a lot of my heavy thinking while I’m driving and cooking.

What is something about you that people would be surprised to know? In high school I played several musical instruments. The oboe was my main instrument, but I also regularly played saxophone, English horn, piano, and percussion. I spent about half of high school planning to be a music teacher and professional performer.

How has the social media helped your career as an author? It connects me with fellow writers who give me support and readers who can talk books with me.

Coffee or tea? Both. I drink coffee first thing in the morning, or if I need a boost later in the day. Hazelnut is my favorite flavor. I drink tea throughout the rest of the day – usually English breakfast tea. I also have an unhealthy addiction to Diet Dr. Pepper and Diet Pepsi. Basically, my body runs on caffeine, and I’ll feed that need however I must.

What’s the best advice you’ve been given? Treat others the way you’d want them to treat the people who matter most to you. Usually, you want better for your loved ones than you do for yourself, and you should always strive to give your best to others.

What are you working on at the moment? In addition to promoting my debut novel, I have a couple of projects in the pipeline. I’m finishing up a round of edits on my second novel – a modernization of Jane Austen’s Persuasion – and the first draft of my third novel. Both are chick lit with plenty of romance and dry comedy. I also have a list of future project ideas I’m anxiously looking forward to writing.

GUEST POST

Five Dos and Don’ts During the Writing Process

Do: Keep good notes and documentation. Whether you’re a plotter or a pantser, it’s a good idea to keep track of everything you do. That could be keeping a journal or jotting down comments on a Post-it note. It will help you refocus on where you need to pick up next when you have to take breaks. At the same time, it’s a good record to have to keep track of your journey.

Don’t: Feel like you have to stick to your original plan. I’m a plotter by nature, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to veer off the path if a better idea comes along. For example, Hard Hats and Doormats contains several scenes I never expected to pen when I carefully outlined the first draft. At the same time, I nixed a few before I even wrote them.

Do: Save and back-up your files. Your computer is one spilled latte away from turning on you. Save your novel to a flash/external/Internet drive – or all of the above. If you think losing a sock is a bummer, imagine losing half of your novel.

Don’t: Spend too much time on social media. I love Facebook and Twitter like crazy, and they serve their purposes. But they’re also one of the biggest distractions out there. Schedule time to devote to your social media platforms and focus on your other tasks the rest of the time. This is easier said than done, but it’s a nice goal to have.

Do: Carry a notebook, pen, or some other writing instrument with you at all times. You never know when inspiration will strike, and you’ll be annoyed or angry with yourself if you forget your beautiful idea, because you couldn’t find a pen.

Don’t: Stay at the party after you’ve outstayed your welcome. Sometimes, we writers fall in love with our characters and hate to say good-bye to them. I’ve heard a few writers mention that you should start your story as late as possible and end it as soon as possible to maximize the impact it has on readers or viewers if you’re a screenwriter or playwright. The ending to Hard Hats and Doormats comes sooner that I thought it would when I sketched out the plot. I cut out the original final scene after the second draft, and I never wrote the epilogue, because it made the story better. That being said, I’ve read and enjoyed many epilogues – there isn’t a hard, fast rule for every story.

Do: Draw inspiration from other sources, like your favorite books, movies and songs. Personally, I feel myself most motivated to write something awesome after I finish reading a beloved book or watching a favorite movie. I get to the end, and I’m like, “I want to do that. I want to write something that leaves someone saying, ‘Hell yeah.’” I also draw a lot of inspiration from music. Not only do I create playlists for each of my books – which I add onto and remove from throughout the process – but I’ll often listen to a song on repeat to help me get through a scene. If I’m writing something sad, a tearjerker will put me in the right mindset. If I need to get through a more technically challenging scene, I stick to instrumental music, because there aren’t any words to distract my thoughts. (I’m listening to “Songs for Sienna” as I’m writing this post.)

Don’t: Be too critical of yourself or others. It’s good to have guidelines and expectations, but everyone needs a break sometimes. The more you stress and worry, the harder – and less enjoyable – the process becomes.

Do: Be kind to the other writers and readers you meet along the way. Pay it forward whenever you can, whether that means beta-reading, participating in a launch party, or offering a friendly word of support. Someday, someone will do the same for you, and it will mean the world.

Don’t: Take yourself – or the process – too seriously. There will be moments for hunkering down and focusing, but make sure you don’t get too focused on the destination that you forget to enjoy the ride. Find something to laugh at – even if it means being the butt of your own joke. I always figure if you can’t laugh at yourself on occasion, you shouldn’t laugh at anything else. If you can keep your sense of humor through the tough moments, you’ll be better when you come out on the other side.

Hard Hats and Doormats“Hard Hats and Doormats” by Laura Chapman

Blurb: Lexi Burke has always been a stickler for following rules and procedures. As a human resources manager for a leading Gulf Coast chemical company, it’s her job to make sure everyone else falls in line, too.

But after losing out on a big promotion–-because her boss sees her as too much of a yes-woman––Lexi adopts a new policy of following her heart instead of the fine print. And her heart knows what it wants: Jason Beaumont, a workplace crush who is off limits based on her previous protocol.While navigating a new romance and interoffice politics, Lexi must find the confidence to stand on her own or face a lifetime of following someone else’s orders.

Who says nice girls have to finish last?

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Alexis Burke @theLexiBurke

Can a person refer to employees as Jackass 1 & 2 in an official report? Asking for a friend. #HRProblems #ThisIsMyLife

The universe keeps telling jokes and I’m the punch line. #IHaveProof

Okay, seriously. When did this become my life? Can I get a mulligan? #ObscureGolfAnalogyForLife

In kindergarten Sunday school, Lexi Burke imagined Hell as a fire-ridden, hate-filled pit below Earth’s surface. On a mighty throne of blackened steel and skulls, Satan preyed on the souls of the damned for eternity.

Twenty years later, she discovered a new version of Hell. It was a windowless conference room on an oil platform off the coast of God-only-knew-where Texas in the middle of May. The devil took form in two men, both middle-aged and madder than a hornets nest. Despite the sweat building on her neck, she shivered.

When did babysitting old guys become my job?

How mad do hornets get, and what does their nest have to do with it?

Where did I come up with that analogy?

Solving those mysteries had to wait. Casting a glance at the figures gathered around the badly chipped table, she considered the situation at hand. The two men, their union reps, and a team of local managers were going yet another round in their verbal sparring without a semblance of resolution. The representatives wanted the men to go back to work. The managers wanted to give them pink slips.

As the HR manager assigned – albeit at last-minute – to the investigation, she wanted to keep everyone from killing each other. Not an easy task, considering the two men under investigation already gave murder their best shot.

According to the initial report, the incident happened over the weekend. The men engaged in a particularly heated discussion about college football. The man to her right apparently took offense to the one on her left using derogatory names to describe his beloved team.

She grimaced at the list of profanities. Three or four of them merited HR intervention on their own. Then again, others struck her as downright creative. Note to self: Use “dag nab ass backwards pile of swamp waste” in a sentence later today.

The fight escalated when Mr. Right expressed his displeasure by raking his broken glass across Lefty’s face. A few days later, the wounds swelled red and blotchy. Her stomach churned when she examined their faces closely.

His opponent fared no better. Lefty managed a couple of solid jabs with a shard from a shattered plate. His cheek and eyebrow were held together with the help of twenty-two stitches.

How did these men still have jobs? Surely trying to kill your co-worker violated the Employee Code of Conduct. But because they had no previous violence on their records, the company’s agreement with the union guaranteed them the right to an investigation – this investigation.

“I told ‘em to back off and leave my Tigers alone,” Idiot Number One shouted. “But he started waving around his God-damned glass. I had to grab hold of something to protect myself. A man’s got a right to defend himself and his pride.”

“What the hell are you talking about, son?” Moron Number Two chimed in. “You were the one bent outta shape in the first place. He’s pissed because my Hogs’ll beat the hell out of this pussy lover’s team next year.”

Hogs? Tigers? Did these men seriously put their jobs and lives on the line over the Arkansas and LSU football teams? Did Lexi have to take team allegiances into consideration when she hired new employees to avoid catastrophe? Were SEC fans this torn up about football year-round?

Will we have full-on riots come September?

She struggled to recall the last two football seasons, but nothing came to mind. In her early days at Gulf America, she’d spent most of her life adjusting to the heavy travel schedule of a field HR representative. Current events, sports, and anything unrelated to HR dealings never entered her mind. She instead concentrated on getting through each day, never mind remembering what happened in the rest of the world.

What kind of fights should she expect when the Big 12 schools in Texas started beating up on each other in the fall?

God help us all.

Pulling her shoulder-length brown hair off her neck, she longed for a breeze. Not the kind from men yelling at each other, but a real, honest-to-God breeze.

She sighed and stared back at her notes. Even if the investigation proved the men deserved firing, she wouldn’t make the decision. Her worthless boss would be using whatever recommendations she gave him.

Dale seldom left his office during the work day. Unless he heard an ice cream truck. Then he raced out the door with a dollar in hand. Why bother leaving for something important–– like his job–– when he had minions like her to do his dirty work in the field? He reserved his energy to sweep in at the end when he took credit and – by all appearances – saved the day.

This time, he didn’t even have the courtesy to make his decision before dawn. In her eagerness to please – the department had a promotion up for grabs – she overlooked the faux pas that sent her straight to hell. Sure the Assistant Regional Director job would be more work, but it came with a healthy salary increase and less travel. And at twenty-four, she’d be the youngest director at headquarters.

The shouts escalated.

Is a promotion worth this?

Another realization hit Lexi like a ton of bricks. Damn, another random metaphor. This dispute would have long-term implications impacting more than her chances of promoting within the company. The safety department would surely ban glass cups and plates from company premises before the end of the week. The idiots had proven breakables were a liability Gulf America would no longer risk.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of one man knocking his coffee mug to the floor. Damn. Another dish casualty. The shattered mug brought Lexi’s attention back to the present. One of the local managers sent her a silent plea. Clearing her throat, she filled her lungs with the heavy air weighing on her chest.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she began, in her sweetest drawl. A Midwesterner by nature and nurture, she spent the past two years cultivating her fake accent. It was useful in tense situations like this one. “I appreciate you sharing your perspectives. I’m sure both of your teams value loyal fans like you. But I need you both to take a few deep breaths and listen to what I say.”

She politely glared at the men. Their chests rose up and down in suppressed fury, but their mouths stayed shut.

“Violence is never the answer. It has no place in the sports arena or at work. Remember, you come from the same conference. Y’all should treat each other with the mutual respect your fine teams deserve.”

She paused for dramatic effect. She used a variation of the speech at least a dozen times in the past month alone. In her experience, a few well-timed beats of silence struck fear into the hearts of men better than a million words.

After giving her words room to settle uncomfortably, she continued. “Y’all need to treat each other respectfully. Not only because you’re co-workers and conference mates, but because you’re both good men with families who depend on you. Consider how you’d want someone to treat the people you love most. That’s how y’all should treat each other.”

The men had the good grace to bow their heads in shame. She mentally patted herself on the back for not flinching when she said “y’all.” Three times. When she moved to Texas after college, she swore she would never pick up the strange jargon.

It only took a month for the Southern slang to find its way into her vocabulary.

Sensing the men had finished their moaning, Lexi nodded at one of the managers to begin his end of the investigation. Leaning back in her chair, she scribbled on a copy of the report. She bored easily when her mind wasn’t constantly engaged. Doodling helped her maintain some focus on a situation without actively paying attention. As an added bonus, writing on paper gave everyone else the illusion she was busy.

On this day, she found paying attention to the investigation exceptionally difficult. Her afternoon meeting back at Corporate Headquarters would determine her future with Gulf America.

She made a note to dust off the training video about respectful language. More than likely, the oil rig’s crew would moan about having to sit through thirty minutes of bad acting. They’d also likely ignore the message, but she had to try.

For the men, she added a few suggestions for her boss to consider. They at least needed anger management counseling. Offering them a buyout in exchange for early retirement would satisfy the union and the company.

With her work done, she turned over her notes to doodle a picture. She drew two donkeys. One held a glass, the other a plate. Leaning back in her chair she admired her work, both the drawing, and the much more relaxed atmosphere in the conference room.

Damn she was good.

**Contact Laura: Website   Blog   Facebook   GoodReads   Twitter

**Click HERE to watch the book trailer of “Hard Hats & Doormats”

**Buy “Hard Hats and Doormats”: Amazon — Print & eBook   Barnes & Noble – eBook   Kobo – eBook   Marching Ink – Print

**Click HERE to enter to win a prize package of Lexi’s favorite things!

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**Click HERE to see more stops on Laura Chapman’s Chick Lit Plus Tours!

Filed Under: Laura Chapman Tagged With: Author, Books, Chick-Lit, Five Dos and Don’ts During the Writing Process, Guest Post, Hard Hats and Doormats, Interview, Laura Chapman, Women's Fiction, Writing

The Consequences

January 28, 2014 Leave a Comment

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“The Consequences” by Colette Freedman

Blurb:

In the riveting follow-up to her acclaimed debut novel, Colette Freedman explores the aftermath of infidelity from three different perspectives–husband, wife, and mistress.

The end of an affair may be only the beginning. . .

Over the course of one tumultuous Christmas Eve, Kathy Walker confirmed her suspicions about her husband’s affair, confronted his mistress, Stephanie, and saved her marriage. She and Robert have eighteen years, two teenagers, and a film production business between them–plus a bond that Kathy has no intention of giving up on. Yet though Robert is contrite, Kathy can’t quite silence her doubts.

While Robert reels from his wife’s ultimatum and his mistress’s rejection, Stephanie makes a discovery: she’s pregnant. Her resolve to stay away from Robert wavers now that they could make a real family together. And in the days that follow, Stephanie, Robert, and Kathy must each reckon with the intricate realities of desire, the repercussions of betrayal, and the secrets that, once revealed, ripple through lives and relationships in thoroughly unexpected ways.

ColetteFreedmanPic**About author, Colette Freedman:

COLETTE FREEDMAN- An internationally produced playwright with over 25 produced plays, Colette was voted “One of 50 to Watch” by The Dramatist’s Guild.

Her play Sister Cities was the hit of the 2008 Edinburgh Fringe and earned five star reviews:  It has been produced around the country and internationally, fourteen times including Paris (Une Ville, Une Soeur) and Rome (Le Quattro Sorelle). The film version has been optioned and is in pre production.

She  has co-written, with International bestselling novelistJackie Collins, the play Jackie Collins Hollywood Lies, which is gearing up for a National Tour.

In collaboration with The New York Times best selling author Michael Scott,  she wrote the thriller The Thirteen Hallows  (Tor/Macmillan).

Her novel The Affair (Kensington) came out January 29, 2013. The play of the novel earned both critical and commercial success as it toured Italy February through May 2013.

Her novel The Consequences (Kensington) comes out January 28, 2014, (TODAY!).

**Contact Colette: Website   Pinterest   Twitter

Filed Under: The Consequences Tagged With: Affairs, Blurb, Book feature, Book Release, Books, Chick-Lit, Colette Freedman, The Consequences, Women's Fiction

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