Review of NEVER COMING HOME by Hannah Mary McKinnon

On May 27, 2022 By vickleaIn Book Review2 Comments

Lucas Forester is the antagonist in this twisted tale about domestic drama with thrills up the wazoo. He is a guy I just couldn’t hate because he was so intelligent and figured out all of the possible scenarios before he acted. His very wealthy wife Michelle is missing and Lucas has a plan already in play for when she is declared dead. Notice that the word I used is “when” not “if.” You see, Lucas planned her murder, hired someone to carry it out and is not just waiting for the declaration of her death so that he can be independently wealthy. He had lots of ideas for what he could do while he waits for Michelle to be found. In fact, the entire plot revolves around Lucas’s plans which are constantly evolving as the situation changes. There is a complication to his well-thought out plan when it appears that the killer he hired from the dark web is sending him photos to blackmail him. Another problem for the very devious Lucas to contend with! The characters are mostly likable but very complex. The book has a well-developed plot, but the whole story is actually centered around the characters and what makes them act the way they do. All of them are sympathetic characters except for Lucas who is just plain old despicable. I think I liked him because he is like Wiley Coyote, always trying to catch the roadrunner and always running into trouble for his efforts. The plot has some great twists in it and innumerable red herrings. This is the kind of book that I really get caught up in because it kept me guessing all the way until the end. And the surprise twist at the end is just perfect, absolutely perfect! I would love this book to be made into a movie because I can just picture the story unwinding on the big screen, complete with deception and maliciousness as well as the conniving that takes place. This was such a good book and so well-written that I was sorry that it had to end. Fans of domestic thrillers will want to get this book and discuss it with others.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guidelines Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

Caution for my readers: This is an intense book with several triggers in it, including drug addiction, abuse and violence. I would rate it a hard PG but actually think it is best suited for adults who enjoy domestic thrillers with a psychological twist.

**Hannah Mary McKinnon** was born in the UK, grew up in Switzerland and moved to Canada in 2010. After a successful career in recruitment, she quit the corporate world in favor of writing, and is now the author of The Neighbors, Her Secret Son, Sister Dear and You Will Remember Me. She lives in Oakville, Ontario, with her husband and three sons, and is delighted by her twenty-second commute. **Social Links:**
Author Website
Twitter: @HannahMMcKinnon
Instagram: @hannahmarymckinnon
Facebook: @HannahMaryMcKinnon
Goodreads

Excerpt:

SUNDAY

The steady noise from the antique French carriage clock on the mantelpiece had somehow amplified itself, a rhythmic tick-tick, tick-tick, which usually went unnoticed. After I’d been sitting in the same position and holding my ailing mother-in-law’s hand for almost an hour, the incessant clicking had long wormed its way deep into my brain where it grated on my nerves, stirring up fantasies of hammers, bent copper coils, and shattered glass.

Nora looked considerably worse than when I’d visited her earlier this week. She was propped up in bed, surrounded by a multitude of pillows. She’d lost more weight, something her pre-illness slender physique couldn’t afford. Her bones jutted out like rocks on a cliff, turning a kiss on the cheek into an extreme sport in which you might lose an eye. The ghostly hue on her face resembled the kids who’d come dressed up as ghouls for Halloween a few days ago, emphasizing the dark circles that had transformed her eyes into mini sinkholes. It wasn’t clear how much time she had left. I was no medical professional, but we could all tell it wouldn’t be long. When she’d shared her doctor’s diagnosis with me barely three weeks ago, they’d estimated around two months, but at the rate of Nora’s decline, it wouldn’t have come as a surprise if it turned out to be a matter of days.

Ovarian cancer. As a thirty-two-year-old Englishman who wasn’t yet half Nora’s age I’d had no idea it was dubbed the silent killer but now understood why. Despite the considerable wealth and social notoriety Nora enjoyed in the upscale and picturesque town of Chelmswood on the outskirts of Boston, by the time she’d seen someone because of a bad back and they’d worked out what was going on, her vital organs were under siege. The disease was a formidable opponent, the stealthiest of snipers, destroying her from the inside out before she had any indication something was wrong.

A shame, truly, because Nora was the only one in the Ward family I actually liked. I wouldn’t have sat here this long with my arse going numb for my father-in-law’s benefit, that’s for sure. Given half the chance I’d have smothered him with a pillow while the nurse wasn’t looking. But not Nora. She was kindhearted, gentle. The type of person who quietly gave time and money to multiple causes and charities without expecting a single accolade in return. Sometimes I imagined my mother would’ve been like Nora, had she survived, and fleetingly wondered what might have become of me if she hadn’t died so young, if I’d have grown up to be a good person.

I gradually pulled my hand away from Nora’s and reached for my phone, decided on playing a game or two of backgammon until she woke up. The app had thrashed me the last three rounds and I was due, but Nora’s fingers twitched before I made my first move. I studied her brow, which seemed furrowed in pain even as she slept. Not for the first time I hoped the Grim Reaper would stake his or her claim sooner rather than later. If I were death, I’d be swift, efficient, and merciful, not prescribe a drawn-out, painful process during which body, mind, or both, wasted away. People shouldn’t be made to suffer as they died. Not all of them, anyway.

“Lucas?”

I jumped as Diane, Nora’s nurse and my neighbor, put a hand on my shoulder. She’d only left the room for a couple of minutes but always wore those soft-soled shoes when she worked, which meant I never heard her coming until she was next to me. Kind of sneaky, when I thought about it, and I decided I wouldn’t sit with my back to the door again.

As she walked past, the air filled with the distinctive medicinal scent of hand sanitizer and antiseptic. I hated that smell. Too many bad memories I couldn’t shake. Diane set a glass of water on the bedside table, checked Nora’s vitals, and turned around. Hands on hips, she peered down at me from her six-foot frame, her tight dark curls bouncing alongside her jawbone like a set of tiny corkscrews.

“You can go home now. I’ll take the evening from here.” Regardless of her amicable delivery, there was no mistaking the instruction, but she still added, “Get some rest. God knows you look like you need it.”

“Thanks a lot,” I replied with mock indignation. “You sure know how to flatter a guy.”

Diane cocked her head to one side, folded her arms, and gave me another long stare, which to anyone else would’ve been intimidating. “How long since you slept? I mean properly.”

I waved a hand. “It’s only seven o’clock.”

“Yeah, I guess given the circumstances I wouldn’t want to be home alone, either.”

I looked away. “That’s not what this is about. I’ll wait until Nora wakes up again. I want to say goodbye. You know, in case she…” My voice cracked a little on the last word and I feigned a cough as I pressed the heels of my palms over my eyes.

“She won’t,” Diane whispered. “Not tonight. Trust me. She’s not ready to go.”

I knew Diane had worked in hospice for two decades and had seen more than her fair share of people taking their last breaths. If she said Nora wouldn’t die tonight, then Nora would still be here in the morning.

“I’ll leave in a bit. After she wakes up.”

Diane let out a resigned sigh and sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the bed. A comfortable silence settled between us despite the fact we didn’t know each other very well. I’d first met Diane and her wife Karina, who were both in their forties, when they’d struck up a conversation with me and my wife Michelle as we’d moved into our house on the other side of Chelmswood almost three years prior. Something about garbage days and recycling rules, I think. The mundane discussion could’ve led to a multitude of drinks, shared meals, and the swapping of embarrassing childhood stories, except we were all what Michelle had called busy professionals with (quote) hectic work schedules that make forging new friendships difficult. My Captain Subtext translated her comment as can’t be bothered and, consequently, the four of us had never made the transition from neighbors to close friends.

Aside from the occasional holiday party invitation or looking after each other’s places whenever we were away—picking up the mail, watering the plants, that kind of thing—we only saw each other in passing. Nevertheless, Karina regularly left a Welcome Back note on our kitchen counter along with flowers from their garden and a bottle of wine. Not one to be outdone on anything, Michelle reciprocated, except she’d always chosen more elaborate bouquets and fancier booze. My wife’s silent little pissing contests, which I’d pretended to be too dense to notice, had irked me to hell and back, but when Nora fell ill and Diane had been assigned as one of her nurses, I’d been relieved it was someone I knew and trusted.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you,” Diane said, rescuing me from the spousal memories. “It’s not fair. I mean, it’s never fair, obviously, but on top of what you’re going through with Michelle. I can’t imagine. It’s so awful…”

I acknowledged the rest of the words she left hanging in the air with a nod. There was nothing left to say about my wife’s situation we hadn’t already discussed, rediscussed, dissected, reconstructed, and pulled apart all over again. We’d not solved the mystery of her whereabouts or found more clues. Nothing new, helpful or hopeful, anyway. We never would.

Silence descended upon us again, the gaudy carriage clock ticking away, reviving the images of me with hammer in hand until the doorbell masked the sound.

“I’ll go,” Diane muttered, and before I had the chance to stand, she left the room and pulled the door shut. I couldn’t help wondering if her swift departure was because she needed to escape from me, the man who’d used her supportive shoulder almost daily for the past month. I decided to tone it down a little. Nobody wanted to be around an overdramatic, constant crybaby regardless of their circumstances.

I listened for voices but couldn’t hear any despite my leaning toward the door and craning my neck. I couldn’t risk moving in case Nora woke up. Her body was failing, but her mind remained sharp as a box of tacks. She’d wonder what I was up to if she saw my ear pressed against the mahogany panel. Solid mahogany. The best money could buy thanks to the Ward family’s three-generations-old construction empire. No cheap building materials in this house, as my father-in-law had pointed out when he’d first given me the tour of the six bedrooms, four reception rooms, indoor and outdoor kitchens (never mind the abhorrent freezing Boston winters), and what could only be described as grounds because yard implied it was manageable with a push-along mower.

“Only the best for my family,” Gideon had said in his characteristic rumbly, pompous way as he’d knocked back another glass of Laphroaig, the broad East Coast accent he worked hard to hide making more of a reappearance with each gluttonous glug. “No MDF, vinyl or laminate garbage, thank you. That’s not what I’m about. Not at all.”

It’s in the houses you build for others, I’d thought as I’d grunted an inaudible reply he no doubt mistook for agreement because people rarely contradicted him. As I raised my glass of scotch, I didn’t mention the council flats I grew up in on what Gideon dismissed as the lesser side of the pond, or the multiple times Dad and I had been kicked out of our dingy digs because he couldn’t pay the rent, and we’d ended up on the streets. My childhood had been vastly different to my wife’s, and I imagined the pleasure I’d find in watching Gideon’s eyes bulge as I described the squalor I’d lived in, and he realized my background was worlds away from the shiny and elitist version I’d led everyone to believe was the truth. I pictured myself laughing as he understood his perfect daughter had married so far beneath her, she may as well have pulled me up from the dirt like a carrot, and not the expensive organic kind.

Of course, I hadn’t told him anything. I’d taken another swig of the scotch I loathed, but otherwise kept my mouth shut. As satisfying as it would’ve been, my father-in-law knowing the truth about my background had never been part of my long-term agenda. In any case, and despite Gideon’s efforts, things were working to plan. Better than. The smug bastard was dead.

And he wasn’t the only one.

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Review of THE HONEYMOON COTTAGE by Lori Foster

On May 25, 2022 By vickleaIn Book Review1 Comment

The story of small-town life is front and center in this romantic tale by Lori Foster. Yardley Belanger is living with her aunt and mother, both of whom have a tendency to criticize her constantly. She is running the family business of wedding planning as well as helping out anyone in the community who needs it. Meanwhile, her own dreams are put on hold, to the point that she dares not dream a future for herself. In planning a wedding for his sister, Yardley meets Travis, a hunky contractor who is attracted to her and vice versa. The story of their romance is one for the ages, with a few bumps but mostly a lot of humor. Yardley’s way of speaking is so realistic that I could just hear her rambling on from topic to topic at a high rate of speed. I think her conversations were my favorite part of the book. I liked getting to know all of the characters of the small town of Cemetery, especially Betty, a disagreeable older woman who wants everything to stay the same. The characters were well-developed and each was given a different and intriguing personality. Mimi, Yardley’s best friend and protector, was charming and witty as she dealt with being a new mom and trying to encourage romance in her life. The plot rolled along at a good pace, perfect for the story and engaging to read. Fans of light romance will enjoy this stroll down the path of romance and will particularly enjoy getting to know the residents of Cemetery.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guidelines Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

*Rated PG-13 because of sexual references and innuendo. Also, an unmarried couple is living together in this book.*

Lori Foster is a New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestselling author with over 10 million books sold. She received the Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews and her books have been chosen as editors picks by Amazon multiple times. Foster is actively involved in charity work, and all of the author proceeds from her anthologies have gone to various organizations, such as the Animal Adoption Foundation, the Conductive Learning Center, and One Way Farm. She lives in Ohio with her high school sweetheart.
**SOCIAL LINKS:**
Author Website
Twitter: @LoriLFoster
Facebook: Lori Foster
Instagram: @lorilfoster
Goodreads

Chapter 1, Excerpt

“Mother, didn’t you plan to go out?” It was nearing noon, and Aurora Belanger had yet to leave. Lilith, her mother’s sister, also lingered in the foyer right outside her office. It was as if they knew she had an appointment and they wanted to oversee the process. It was a fact that no matter how she succeeded, they expected her to fail, or sometimes they just disapproved of how she succeeded.

“Why the rush?” Aurora asked as she adjusted the V-neck of her sleeveless blouse to show more cleavage.

Granted, for an almost-fifty-year-old woman, her mother still had it. The problem was that she knew it, and she focused on looking sexy more than she did on making the business work. Yardley forced her mouth into a smile. “I thought you had some local honeymoon locations to scope out today.”

“I don’t scope out locations. And stop slouching.”

Automatically, Yardley straightened, but damn it, she hadn’t been slouching anyway. “So, what would you call it?”

“I visit, investigate, and collect valuable information that will enhance our clients’ experiences.” She shot Yardley a superior look. “It’s a key part of the business, you know. Certainly, the locations I suggest are more appropriate than that rustic Honeymoon Cottage you always recommend.”

“The cottage is amazing and you know it.”

Aurora sniffed. “Most people are more interested in their honeymoon than the actual wedding.”

Meaning her mother’s contributions were more valuable than Yardley’s efforts? Baloney. She knew one thing though: Aurora’s choices were certainly more expensive. Folding her arms, Yardley said, “Huh. I guess a lot of happy clients didn’t realize that, because more than half choose the cottage, so—”

“Because it’s so disgustingly cheap,” Aurora insisted.

“Affordable,” Yardley countered, but why she bothered, she didn’t know. They’d disagreed on the point too many times to count.

“I need to leave soon for the café,” Aunt Lilith interrupted. She was four years Aurora’s senior, and though they shared similar features, she was more concerned with flaunting her intellect than her sex appeal. At least the niche, tea-parlor-type café Lilith owned turned a small profit, even though they’d transitioned from meeting prospective clients there to having them at the home office instead.

Lilith focused on Yardley with nerve-rattling acuity. “Whatever are you up to, Yardley? Do you have an appointment, hmm?”

“Yes, I do, and I need to prep for it. So… I’ll see you both later.” She took a step back. Then another. Neither of them budged. Damn.

Lilith gave her a longer look. “Don’t you have something more appropriate to wear?”

Looking down at her summer dress, Yardley frowned in consternation. It was one of her favorites. She adored the way the soft, flowing material gently draped her body. The skirt ended mid-calf, and it had just enough adornment to make it professional while still being comfortable. Plus Mimi had told her that the pretty blue floral pattern matched her eyes. “I love this dress.”

“It doesn’t scream professionalism,” said her aunt.

“I’m not sure I want my clothes to scream.”

Ignoring that, her aunt said, “Yellow would be better for you, to offset your dark hair. Perhaps a business suit.”

A yellow business suit? She’d look like a block of butter.

“Nonsense,” said her mother. “Just the opposite is true. It wouldn’t kill you to wear something a little less matronly.”

“My dress isn’t matronly.” Was it? No, no, it was comfortable, damn it.

“You have breasts. Even though they’re small, you should showcase them.”

Yardley started to sweat. “Look, both of you—”

Aunt Lilith cut in. “Only you, Aurora, would think she needed to be sexy to sell a wedding. If you’d furthered your education, as I did, instead of getting pregnant so young—”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Aurora gasped in affront—as she always did when this debate got started.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t mine.” Lilith scoffed. “I didn’t have unprotected sex.”

“Likely because you, dear sister, have never experienced real passion.”

Lilith’s face went red. “No one said passion must equal an unwanted baby—no offense, Yardley.”

Yardley obligingly replied, “None taken.” This whole argument was so old, she knew the lines by heart. There was always some variant of the same thing. Over and over again.

It infuriated Mimi. If her friend was here now, she’d be blasting them both.

“I did the responsible thing,” Aurora specified with flair. “I raised my daughter. You’d probably have given her up.”

“How dare you?” Lilith pointed one manicured finger Yardley’s way. “I love Yardley.”

“Now you do. But while I was carrying her?”

“I was attempting to be the reasonable one.”

“You didn’t want her around, but now you try to claim her as your own.”

“At least I don’t advise her to show off her breasts!”

Yardley lifted her phone to look at the time…and then she heard two things. A man clearing his throat, and a young woman giggling.

OMG. Awash with humiliation, she turned to face her clients…and holy crapola. Pretty sure her ovaries just danced.

Travis Long was a feast for the peepers. She knew because her eyes were gobbling him up from head to toe.

He wasn’t the intended, thank God, just the brother. Is he married?

Good Lord, why did she care? But she answered herself real quick as she took him in feature by feature. Sandy-blond hair, steaked by the sun.

Dark brown eyes, fringed by ridiculous—like, really ridiculous—long, thick lashes.

Broad muscled shoulders.

Lean torso.

Long, strong legs.

Of course he had to be married. He’d probably had a dozen proposals by now. Some lucky woman would have snatched him up already.

Unless… Remembering her initial phone conversation, she thought maybe he was too aloof. Too unfriendly. A discerning woman wouldn’t be reeled in by mere good looks. Somehow she didn’t feel all that discerning right now.

Whatever this man does for a living, it works in his favor.

The young woman laughed aloud this time. “Don’t worry, Ms. Belanger. He has that effect on everyone.” She nodded at Aurora and Lilith, and Yardley realized they were both gawking, too.

Appalled, Yardley loudly cleared her throat—and accomplished nothing. Her mother and aunt continued to stare.

“I’ve told him he could have made more money as a model,” the young woman said, “but no, my brother went into construction instead.”

Attempting to ignore the heat in her face, Yardley stepped forward, hand extended—toward the woman. Who would be her client. She was the one who mattered. “Hello. You must be Ms. Long.”

“Soon to be Mrs. Borden, with your help.”

“Oh, I do hope so. That I get to help, I mean. Not that you become Mrs. Borden. I’m sure that’s a foregone conclusion or you wouldn’t be here.” Shut up, Yardley. “Please, just call me Yardley.”

“If you’ll call me Sheena.”

Beside her, Travis shifted but said nothing. Compared to him, his sister looked extra petite. Her hair, lighter blond than Travis’s, hung just past her shoulders. They shared the same striking dark eyes and sinful lashes.

Sheena appeared to be just out of her teens. Maybe twenty or twenty-one. Young, excited, and brimming with optimism. Total opposite of her silent, possibly brooding, brother.

What could she say with her aunt and mother still eyeballing him as if they’d never seen such a fine specimen before? Honestly, in Cemetery, they probably hadn’t. “I’m thrilled for the opportunity to help plan your wedding.” Reluctantly, because she wasn’t yet prepared to gaze on him again, Yardley turned to Travis. It took her a second to get her lungs to work, and then she gasped, “I take it you’re Travis Long, the Victorian home enthusiast?”

“I am.” He briefly clasped her hand.

Very perfunctory. Not at all personal. Purely business.

But he had magic hands or something because she felt that touch radiate everywhere. With her tingling palm, she lamely gestured to the gawking duo. “My mother, Aurora Belanger, and my aunt, Lilith Belanger.”

Sheena greeted them with a little less warmth than she’d shown Yardley.

Travis merely gave them a nod, then said to Yardley, “I’m relieved to see you’ve kept the house true to the period.”

Oh goody, a safe subject, and one she was comfortable with. She could talk about the house and stare at him. “I’ve tried. Remodeling it has been a pleasure, but a slow process.” She wrinkled her nose. “Matching all that trim, finding the right valance windows, the iron railings—”

“And the slate roof. That impressed me.”

Oh, hey. She’d impressed him. Score one for her. “Most recently the kitchen got a facelift. I hope I did it justice.”

Sheena glanced around. “It’s beautiful. Can we do a tour of it later? I know it’d make this whole trip worthwhile for Travis.”

She shot a warning look at her mother and aunt. “Absolutely. I’ll show you everything.” What? “I mean, every part of the house. All the rooms. And stuff.” If only her mouth had a spigot she could turn off. “Even the upstairs rooms have been remodeled.” Had her mother and aunt left when they were supposed to, she’d have tidied their rooms for them. Now she couldn’t, meaning they were probably messy disasters.

Oh, how sweet it was to have a little payback against them. They were fanatics when it came to designing their rooms, but not so big on keeping them decluttered. Yardley knew exactly how they’d react—and they didn’t disappoint her.

“Excuse me,” Lilith said, exiting in a dignified, unhurried stride…until she was out of sight. Then they all heard the rushed clomping of her short heels on wood treads as she raced up the stairs.

Aurora managed a wan smile. “Yes, I should go as well. Good luck, dear. Oh, not that my daughter needs luck, of course. She’s quite the talented wedding planner. Very popular here and in the neighboring towns. Why, her vintage weddings are heavily trending, or so she tells me. Personally, I prefer something a little more chic, which of course she offers.”

“Mother,” Yardley said, feeling her cheeks burn. “You don’t want to be late.”

“Oh, no. No, I don’t.” Aurora barely lowered her voice when she said in an aside, “Don’t slouch.” Then she turned and sashayed away, making a little less noise on the stairs than Lilith had. Unfortunately, they could hear them rushing around in their rooms, probably tucking away bras and shoes, clearing clutter from their desks, and hopefully tidying their beds.

It was the one thing she had in common with them: they each loved to show off the house. Since Aurora and Lilith had personally helped with the decor choices for their rooms, they were especially proud of them and loved to show them off.

Yardley pinned on her most professional smile. “We finished the upstairs as a divided living area, so both my aunt and my mother have their own private suites with bedrooms, bathrooms, and seating areas. My mother chose the side with the balcony, and Aunt Lilith has that romantic turret.”

“You live here, too?” Sheena asked.

“Yes, my bedroom is off to the right of the foyer, and the kitchen is to the left.” She gestured down the hall. “Only the dining room is used as my office. If you’d like to come this way, we can all get comfortable while you share your wedding ideas. Once I have a grasp of what you’re thinking, I can show you my portfolio and we can go over the budget.”

Available now at your favorite retailer.

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Review of MIDNIGHT DUNES by Laura Griffin

On May 23, 2022 By vickleaIn Book ReviewLeave a comment

This is the third book in the Texas Murder Files series and is just as good as the gorgeous cover presents. It can be read as a standalone, but I did read the other two books and really enjoy the series. In this latest romance thriller, Macey Burns comes to Lost Beach to film a tourism commercial and gets caught up in a murder investigation. There she meets Detective Owen Breda, a quiet man with a lot of responsibility to catch a killer who seems to be escalating. The book begins with the description of a murder scene and the action ramps up from there and goes full steam ahead all the way to the end. As Owen investigates and Macey films, a killer is walking among them and they both know it but cannot seem to figure out who it is. There are red herrings, which I love, and plenty of twists in the story. The love affair that begins between Macey and Owen begins slowly and builds as each discovers a need for each other. All of the characters are well fleshed out but especially Macey and Owen. Some of the other characters were more fully developed in the other books and are a welcome addition to this one. I enjoyed the relationships, both professional and personal between the police officers at Lost Beach. They are dedicated to the pursuit of justice and don’t mind losing sleep to find it. I liked that Macey had a less than stellar past and that she is not afraid to admit it and move on. Mostly, I enjoyed the cat and mouse game that the police engaged in with the murderer. With missing cars, assaults on innocent bystanders and lots of action in every chapter, this book kept me reading until reached the ending, with a sigh of satisfaction and a desire to go back to Lost Beach for the next adventure there.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guidelines Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

*Rated PG-13: violence, sex (not graphic descriptions though)*

**Information and photos from the author’s website at** http://www.lauragriffin.com

MIDNIGHT DUNES releases tomorrow, but you can pre-order today. Purchase Links:

Review of ALL THAT FILLS US by Autumn Lytle

On May 21, 2022 By vickleaIn Book Review4 Comments

This book gets my nomination for book of the year, hands down. It is he breathtaking and awe-inspiring story of a young woman named Mel Ellis who suffers from an eating disorder and a lack of self worth that is slowly killing her. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, she decides to take a pilgrimage on foot from Grand Rapids, Michigan to Mount Ranier in Washington state. The people she meets along the way are both memorable and inspirational. They don’t only insist on feeding her physically, but they also feed her hungry soul. What she is searching for is not found in a protein bar or fewer pounds on the scale, but it is found within herself if she can only survive to discover that truth. This book is a testament to the God who created each of us and who loves each of us as though there is only one of us. Mel realizes that she is damaged goods and throughout the book she has to come to terms with the fact that she can never do enough or be enough to be accepted. She just has to accept that she is. Her pilgrimage is a story that needed to be told and is told in a sweeping saga, complete with beautiful imagery of all that she sees and experiences. My favorite characters besides Mel are Chrystal and David, a sister and her young brother, who offer Mel shelter, first aid and a family that accepts her just as she is. I loved this book and all of its beautiful descriptive passages, but mostly I enjoyed the heartfelt message of hope that it gives.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Revell via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

**This is the author’s debut novel and it’s a wow read!**

*This book deals with the sensitive topic of anorexia so may not be for all readers. It is Christian fiction and there are no objectionable scenes or expletives. Rated G.*

***For information about this amazing new author, go to her website at*** https://autumnlytle.com

This book is available now and I cannot recommend it highly enough. Purchase Links:

Review of FATAL CODE by Natalie Walters

On May 20, 2022 By vickleaIn Book ReviewLeave a comment

I am absolutely in love with the SNAP AGENCY series and could not wait to get my hands on this newest one. I was not at all disappointed as it is the best one so far. Telling the story of Kekoa, the gentle computer giant from Hawaii, was brilliant as he is a favorite character with a mystery in his past. I have wanted to know more about Kekoa since book one and this book definitely satisfied my thirst for knowledge about his background. In the latest story, Kekoa is tasked with finding out who is selling secrets from a lab and his discovery actually upsets him. His neighbor, the quiet and unassuming Elinor, appears to be the culprit and Kekoa is overwhelmed with dismay because he is attracted to her. I was also dismayed because I liked Elinor a lot and wanted her and Kekoa to get together. There is a lot of technical information in this book that I can’t say that I really understood, about pigpen codes and algorithms that are dangerous to the person with the skill to decode them. The characters were very well-developed, with a lot of information about Kekoa’s roots and family back in Hawaii as well as Elinor’s beloved grandfather who recently died. There were also some really humorous parts like when Kekoa and Elinor went out in the rain and slid down a grassy hill on boogie boards. Cheehoo! The entire regular cast of the Snap Agency is present, with Walsh taking more of a leading role in this book and Lyla and Garcia still teasing a romantic interlude between them. The plot is fast-paced and intense, with the security of the U.S. at stake and the team plus the FBI working together to find out what is happening and why. I must admit that I was fooled all the way until the reveal about who the villains were. One person I did guess, but not the real motive, so there were lots of great revelations for me at the end. I loved Kekoa’s story and look forward to the next Snap Agency book already. This team is like NCIS, only so much smarter and better!
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Revell via Netgalley. I also purchased my own copy because I love this series so much. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

*Very intense action but no graphic violence or sex scenes. Rated PG.*

Available for purchase now! Purchase Links:

Review of FREQUENCY by Lisa Harris

On May 19, 2022 By vickleaIn Book Review5 Comments

The third book in the Fallout Series is a stunner, with action on every page, romance blooming and the people of Shadow Ridge still surviving the unthinkable. The focal character in this book is Tess McQuaid, the youngest daughter of former sheriff Garrett McQuaid. Tess is a young woman with the heart of an artist and the courage of a mama tiger. She wants to find truth and justice and is willing to make sacrifices to pursue it. When her life is disrupted by unexpected danger, she is rescued by Deputy Kellen Grey and together they have to survive a winter storm and killers chasing them. The plot is fast-paced and riveting while the characters are realistically vulnerable as well as strong, in a way that complements each other. I love the family dynamics of the McQuaid family and have enjoyed meeting them in each of the books of the series. This book can be read as a standalone, but I highly recommend reading the prequel as well as the first and second books. I’m sure that you will not want to put them down and, just like me, you will be ready for the next book as soon as your finish this one. The genre is Christian romantic suspense, with plenty of action but nothing objectionable or too intense in it.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author via BookFunnel. I was not required to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guidelines Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

**For info about Lisa Harris and all of her amazing books, check out her website at** http://www.lisaharriswrites.com

Available for purchase now at this link:

https://amzn.to/3l8BbSD

***All the books in the series. The ones on the first row and Frequency are all available NOW! Don’t miss out on this series that promises to hold you on the edge of your seat!***

Review of THE SWEET LIFE by Suzanne Woods Fisher

On May 19, 2022 By vickleaIn Book ReviewLeave a comment

The story of Dawn Dixon and her mom Marnie is one that will long remain with me because of the relationship that the two establish during the course of the novel. Marnie is recently widowed and a breast cancer survivor, so she decides on what seems to be a whim to buy an ice cream shop and start her own business. Dawn becomes a reluctant participant in her mom’s plans after her own plans to get married to Kevin, the love of her life, fall apart. With a new perspective on life at the beach, in a little town called Chatham, a vision is born of a successful business and an enduring partnership. What a lovely, heartwarming story! The tale was not without conflict since there is a formidable foe in the shape of Mrs. Nickerson-Eldredge, the head of the Historical Commission who wants to stop the Main Street Creamery from opening. The way the characters all come together was magical, with a theme of preserving the past but also looking forward to a new future. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know all of the characters, but Linc, the handyman who just pitches in to help and seems to always know when Marnie needs him, was my absolute favorite. He was unassuming, humble and offered common sense advice that he gave from his heart. All of the characters were realistic and I could almost taste the ice cream flavors that Dawn created. Blackberry with chocolate chunk? Sign me up! This is a feel-good story that engaged me from beginning to end and made me cheer for a happy ending for all. With wisdom from the Bible subtly interwoven into the story as well as a heartfelt prayer or two, this is Christian fiction at its best!
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Revell Books via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

*A completely clean Christian fiction suitable for all who enjoy reading!*

*Image from the author’s website at* http://www.suzannewoodsfisher.com Biographical information and info about her books can be found at this site.

This sweet book of faith and resilience can be purchased now by following one of these links:

Review of BEACH HOUSE SUMMER by Sarah Morgan

On May 18, 2022 By vickleaIn Book ReviewLeave a comment

Two strong female protagonists find their strength in supporting each other when they try to leave the spotlight behind and move to Joanna’s former hometown. Joanna Rafferty Whitman has been divorced from her philandering celebrity chef husband for over a year when he is killed in an auto accident. Unfortunately, he has a young woman, Ashley Blake, with him in the car. From the beginning of the book, Joanna shows her heart for other people and how much she sincerely cares about their troubles. She unexpectedly shows up at the hospital and offers to shelter Ashley from the unscrupulous media pursuing both of them. Together, they go to Silver Point and Otter’s Nest, Joanna’s renovated childhood home that is a dream on a beach waiting for occupants. The story is fast-paced and totally engaging, with characters that were fun to get to know. By the end of the book, I was completely invested in happy endings for all. This is a book about second chances, new beginnings, misunderstandings and friendship that endures. I loved the messages and the way the story moved seamlessly between the lives of the characters, showing their weaknesses as well as how they could bond and help each other. The setting is scenic, the story is memorable and the characters are my new friends. Fans of romance with a little steam (not too graphic, though) will enjoy this sweet story of finding yourself again after two decades of floundering.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

*Rated PG-13 because of content (teen pregnancy and extramarital affairs)*

Sarah Morgan is a USA Today and Sunday Times bestselling author of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She has sold more than 21 million copies of her books and her trademark humour and warmth have gained her fans across the globe. Sarah lives with her family near London, England, where the rain frequently keeps her trapped in her office. Visit her at http://www.sarahmorgan.com.
**Social Links**:
Author Website
Twitter: @SarahMorgan_
Facebook: Sarah Morgan
Instagram: @sarahmorganwrites
Goodreads

Questions and Answers with Sarah Morgan:

Q&A With Sarah Morgan

1) I love the title and synopsis. Where did the inspiration for the book come from?

I’m fascinated by the idea of celebrity, and how it must feel to live in the spotlight. I was pondering on how much I’d hate that when I came up with the character of Joanna, who is an ‘accidental’ celebrity by virtue of her marriage to a high profile celebrity chef who both relishes and relies on media attention. Joanna didn’t just marry him, she married the lifestyle he’d chosen and she was never comfortable with it. As I was writing, I reflected a lot on how someone lives a private life, and how they keep secrets, if their every move is conducted under a spotlight. Those were some of the issues I wanted to explore. It was a fun book to write!

2) What was the best part about writing this book and why?

So many things. I enjoyed exploring the dynamics between the characters who are all quite different, and also being able to give Joanna a second chance at love (I’m a big believer in second chances!). But I confess that one of the best parts of writing this book was the setting. It takes me around six months to write a book, and during that time I’m immersed in the place as well as the people. Beach House Summer is set on the coast of California, which gave me the excuse to research beautiful beach houses. I was transported, and I hope the reader will feel that way too.

3) What was the most difficult part about writing this book and why?

Giving my characters a hard time – in particular subjecting poor Joanna to all the media attention, which she hated and found distressing. I felt so cruel! But writers sometimes have to be cruel to their characters, it’s part of the job, and a story where the characters are all happy in their lives and have no challenges to face would end on page one. But even knowing that, it’s always difficult when you’ve grown to love the people you’ve created. I remind myself that no matter how many obstacles I throw their way, I always, always give them a happy ending. That makes the whole thing easier.

4) Who is your favourite character and why?

That’s a tough question. I love all the characters, but in particular I enjoyed exploring the way that Joanna and Ashley interact, and how they gradually support each other and change over time. I find multigenerational friendships to be intriguing and interesting to write. With Joanna and Ashley, their age difference doesn’t stop them learning from each other and that part was such fun to write.

5) I have your books Sleigh Bells in the Snow, A Wedding in December and a Christmas Escape. Do you prefer writing books set in summer or winter and why? Which is easier or more challenging and why?

I love writing books set in winter and have done so almost every year since I’ve been published, but I wouldn’t want to only write Christmas books. It takes me around six months to write a novel, and by the time I’ve finished I’m ready to move on to a new set of characters, a new set of problems, and a new season! Each comes with its own set of challenges, but I enjoy writing both. In the end, whatever the season and whatever the setting, I aim to deliver and emotional story that will keep readers turning the pages.

6) The characters, plots and settings in your books are so memorable. What are your top tips for creating great characters, plots and settings, especially seasonal (summer, winter) settings?

The most important element is always the story itself. When you’re writing commercial fiction, you want to make your reader feel something. It’s important to create unique characters, with their own strengths and flaws, and to give them a problem or a dilemma that will keep the reader turning the pages. Sometimes you can turn the seasonal element to your advantage, and whenever possible I make sure that the season and the setting is integral to the plot. With a Christmas book, I try and give the reader all the magic of a cosy, snowy winter without any of the reality (freezing fingers and toes, scraping ice from the car etc). With my next book, Snowed in For Christmas, the season plays a big part in bringing the characters together, not just the weather but also the seasonal tradition of family gatherings. With summer books I want readers to feel as if they’ve had their own summer escape. If it’s a beach book (like Beach House Summer!) then I want them to feel the sand under their toes and the sun on their face.

7) Can you give some advice for those writing in the same genre as you?

Write the story that you’re passionate about. If you’re excited to write it, then there’s a good chance someone will be excited to read it. Create characters you really care about and give them a conflict that will keep a reader turning the pages. If you are rooting for that character, then the chances are the reader will be too.

8) Do you have plans for any other novels? When will they be released?

My next Christmas novel is called Snowed in For Christmas, and it will be out in September in the US and Canada. I had so much fun with this book and it includes all the elements I love including in my writing – family dynamics, friendship and romance. I laughed aloud when I wrote it, and I hope it will make readers smile when they read it.

This book was released on May 17, 2022. Purchase Links:

Review of ON A QUIET STREET by Seraphina Nova Glass

On May 16, 2022 By vickleaIn Book ReviewLeave a comment

The story of a quiet, suburban neighbor hood in Oregon explodes off the page with all of the secrets of the residents. Paige is grieving the death of her son and is almost a psychopath in her quest to find out the truth about what happened to Caleb. The fact that her husband Grant would rather separate from her than stay with her to console each other together says everything about their relationship. Cora is married to philandering Finn, a man with so many secrets that he can’t afford for them to be exposed. And Georgia, the lady married to the powerful and well-known local judge, is an enigma. She comes out on her porch with her infant every day but she never goes anywhere or tries to form friendships with the neighbors. Her secret is devastating to her and the neighbors. The story weaves in and out and is told by all three main characters, relating their secrets and their desires to have their own sweet taste of revenge. When the paths of these ladies cross, then this quiet suburb isn’t quiet any longer! The story was fast-paced and riveting with characters that were relatable and sympathetic. There are some triggers in the book (abuse and violence) so just be warned about that. The men are all seen as controlling, deceptive and manipulative. In general, the husbands are stereotypes of who not to marry. (There is one good one, but I will leave out the identity so that other readers will be surprised.) The plot is well-developed with plenty of twists and action. Fans of domestic thrillers will enjoy this book and want more of the story of these three unbeatable women.
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”

***Rated M for mature audiences due to content and triggers in the content***

Seraphina Nova Glass is a professor and playwright-in-residence at the University of Texas, Arlington, where she teaches film studies and playwriting. She holds an MFA in playwriting from Smith College, and she’s also a screenwriter and award-winning playwright. Seraphina has traveled the world using theatre and film as a teaching tool, living in South Africa, Guam and Kenya as a volunteer teacher, AIDS relief worker, and documentary filmmaker.
Social Links:Author Website
Twitter: @SeraphinaNova
Facebook: Seraphina Nova Glass: Author
Goodreads

Excerpt:

ONE

Paige

Paige stands, watering her marigolds in the front yard and marvels at how ugly they are. The sweet-potato-orange flowers remind her of a couch from the 1970s, and she suddenly hates them. She crouches down, ready to rip them from their roots, wondering why she ever planted such an ugly thing next to her pristine Russian sage, and then the memory steals her breath. The church Mother’s Day picnic when Caleb was in the sixth grade. Some moron had let the potato salad sit too long in the sun, and Caleb got food poisoning. All the kids got to pick a flower plant to give to their moms, and even though Caleb was puking mayonnaise, he insisted on going over to pick his flower to give her. He was so proud to hand it to her in its little plastic pot, and she said they’d plant it in the yard and they’d always have his special marigolds to look at. How could she have forgotten?

She feels tears rise in her throat but swallows them down. Her dachshund, Christopher, waddles over and noses her arm: he always senses when she’s going to cry, which is almost all the time since Caleb died. She kisses his head and looks at her now-beautiful marigolds. She’s interrupted by the kid who de-livers the newspaper as he rides his bike into the cul-de-sac and tosses a rolled-up paper, hitting little Christopher on his back.

“Are you a fucking psychopath?” Paige screams, jumping to her feet and hurling the paper back at the kid, which hits him in the head and knocks him off his bike.

“What the hell is wrong with you, lady?” he yells back, scrambling to gather himself and pick up his bike.

“What’s wrong with me? You tried to kill my dog. Why don’t you watch what the fuck you’re doing?”

His face contorts, and he tries to pedal away, but Paige grabs the garden hose and sprays him down until he’s out of reach. “Little monster!” she yells after him.

Thirty minutes later, the police ring her doorbell, but Paige doesn’t answer. She sits in the back garden, drinking coffee out of a lopsided clay mug with the word Mom carved into it by little fingers. She strokes Christopher’s head and examines the ivy climbing up the brick of the garage and wonders if it’s bad for the foundation. When she hears the ring again, she hollers at them.

“I’m not getting up for you people. If you need to talk to me, I’m back here.” She enjoys making them squeeze around the side of the house and hopes they rub up against the poi-son oak on their way.

“Morning, Mrs. Moretti,” one of the officers says. It’s the girl cop, Hernandez. Then the white guy chimes in. She hates him. Miller. Of course they sent Miller with his creepy mustache. He looks more like a child molester than a cop, she thinks. How does anyone take him seriously?

“We received a complaint,” he says.

“Oh, ya did, did ya? You guys actually looking into cases these days? Actually following up on shit?” Paige says, still petting the dog and not looking at them.

“You assaulted a fifteen-year-old? Come on.”

“Oh, I did no such thing,” she snaps.

Hernandez sits across from Paige. “You wanna tell us what d id happen, then?”

“Are you planning on arresting me if I don’t?” she asks, and the two officers give each other a silent look she can’t read.

“His parents don’t want to press charges so…”

Paige doesn’t say anything. They don’t have to tell her it’s because they pity her.

“But, Paige,” Miller says, “we can’t keep coming out here for this sort of thing.”

“Good,” Paige says firmly. “Maybe it will free you up to do your real job and find out who killed my son.” Hernandez stands.

“Again, you know we aren’t the detectives on the—” But before Hernandez can finish, Paige interrupts, not wanting to hear the excuses.

“And maybe go charge the idiot kid for trying to kill my dog. How about that?”

Paige stands and goes inside, not waiting for a response. She hears them mumble something to one another and make their way out. She can’t restrain herself or force herself to be kind. She used to be kind, but now, it’s as though her brain has been rewired. Defensiveness inhabits the place where empathy used to live. The uniforms of the cops trigger her, too; it reminds her of that night, the red, flashing lights a nightmarish strobe from a movie scene. A horror movie, not real life. It can’t be her real life. She still can’t accept that.

The uniforms spoke, saying condescending things, pulling her away, calling her ma’am, and asking stupid questions. Now, when she sees them, it brings up regrets. She doesn’t know why this happens, but the uniforms bring her back to that night, and it makes her long for the chance to do all the things she never did with Caleb and mourn over the times they did have. It forces fragments of memories to materialize, like when he was six, he wanted a My Little Pony named Star Prancer. It was pink with purple flowers in its mane, and she didn’t let him have it because she thought she was protecting him from being made fun of at school. Now, the memory fills her with self-reproach.

She tries not to think about the time she fell asleep on the couch watching Rugrats with him when he was just a toddler and woke up to his screaming because he’d fallen off the couch and hit his head on the coffee table. He was okay, but it could have been worse. He could have put his finger in an outlet, pushed on the window screen and fallen to his death from the second floor, drunk the bleach under the sink! When this memory comes, she has to quickly stand up and busy herself, push out a heavy breath, and shake off the shame it brings. He could have died from her negligence that afternoon. She never told Grant. She told Cora once, who said every parent has a moment like that, it’s life. People fall asleep. But Paige has never forgiven herself. She loved Caleb more than life, and now the doubt and little moments of regret push into her thoughts and render her miserable and anxious all the time.

She didn’t stay home like Cora, she practically lived at the restaurant. She ran it for years. Caleb grew up doing his homework in the kitchen break room and helping wipe down tables and hand out menus. He seemed to love it. He didn’t watch TV all afternoon after school, he talked to new people, learned skills. But did she only tell herself that to alleviate the guilt? Would he have thrived more if he had had a more nor mal day-to-day? When he clung to her leg that first day of preschool, should she have forced him to go? Should he have let him change his college major so many times? Had he been happy? Had she done right by him?

And why was there a gun at the scene? Was he in trouble, and she didn’t know? Did he have friends she didn’t know about? He’d told her everything, she thought. They were close. Weren’t they?

As she approaches the kitchen window to put her mug down, she sees Grant pulling up outside. She can see him shaking his head at the sight of the cops before he even gets out of the car.

He doesn’t mention the police when he comes in. He silently pours himself a cup of coffee and finds Paige back out in the garden, where she has scurried to upon seeing him. He hands her a copy of the Times after removing the crossword puzzle for himself and then peers at it over his glasses.

He doesn’t speak until Christopher comes to greet him, and then he says, “Who wants a pocket cookie?” and takes a small dog biscuit from his shirt pocket and smiles down at little Christopher, who devours it.

This is how it’s been for the many months since Grant and Paige suffered insurmountable loss. It might be possible to get through it to the other side, but maybe not together, Paige said to Grant one night after one of many arguments about how they should cope. Grant wanted to sit in his old, leather recliner in the downstairs family room and stare into the wood-burning fireplace, Christopher at his feet, drinking a scotch and absorbing the quiet and stillness.

Paige, on the other hand, wanted to scream at everyone she met. She wanted to abuse the police for not finding who was responsible for the hit-and-run. She wanted to spend her days posting flyers offering a reward to anyone with information, even though she knew only eight percent of hit-and-runs are ever solved. When the world didn’t respond the way she needed, she stopped helping run the small restaurant they owned so she could just hole up at home and shout at Jeopardy! and paper boys. She needed to take up space and be loud. They each couldn’t stand how the other was mourning, so finally, Grant moved into the small apartment above their little Italian place, Moretti’s, and gave Paige the space she needed to take up.

Now—almost a year since the tragic day—Grant still comes over every Sunday to make sure the take-out boxes are picked up and the trash is taken out, that she’s taking care of herself and the house isn’t falling apart. And to kiss her on the cheek before he leaves and tell her he loves her. He doesn’t make observations or suggestions, just benign comments about the recent news headlines or the new baked mostaccioli special at the restaurant.

She sees him spot the pair of binoculars on the small table next to her Adirondack chair. She doesn’t need to lie and say she’s bird-watching or some nonsense. He knows she thinks one of the neighbors killed her son. She’s sure of it. It’s a gated community, and very few people come in and out who don’t live here. Especially that late at night. The entrance camera was conveniently disabled that night, so that makes her think it wasn’t an accident but planned. There was a gun next to Caleb’s body, but it wasn’t fired, and there was no gunshot wound. Something was very wrong with this scenario, and if the po-lice won’t prove homicide, she’s going to uncover which of her bastard neighbors had a motive.

She has repeated all of this to Grant a thousand times, and he used to implore her to try to focus on work or take a vacation—anything but obsess—and to warn her that she was destroying her health and their relationship, but he stopped responding to this sort of conspiracy-theory talk months ago.

“What’s the latest?” is all he asks, looking away from the binoculars and back to his crossword. She gives a dismissive wave of her hand, a sort of I know you don’t really want to hear about it gesture. Then, after a few moments, she says, “Danny Howell at 6758. He hasn’t driven his Mercedes in months.” She gives Grant a triumphant look, but he doesn’t appear to be following.

“Okay,” he says, filling in the word ostrich.

“So I broke into his garage to see what the deal was, and there’s a dent in his bumper.”

“You broke in?” he asks, concerned. She knows the How-ells have five vehicles, and the dent could be from a myriad of causes over the last year, but she won’t let it go.

“Yes, and it’s a good thing I did. I’m gonna go back and take photos. See if the police can tell if it looks like he might have hit a person.” She knows there is a sad desperation in her voice as she works herself up. “You think they can tell that? Like if the dent were a pole from a drive-through, they could see paint or the scratches or something, right? I bet they can tell.”

“It’s worth a shot,” he says, and she knows what he wants to say, also knows he won’t waste words telling her not to break into the garage a second time for photos. He changes the subject.

“I’m looking for someone to help out at the restaurant a few days a week—mostly just a piano player for the dinner crowd—but I could use a little bookkeeping and scheduling, too,” he says, and Paige knows it’s a soft attempt to distract her, but she doesn’t bite.

“Oh, well, good luck. I hope you find someone,” she says, and they stare off into the backyard trees.

“The ivy is looking robust,” he comments after a few minutes of silence.

“You think it’s hurting the foundation?” she asks.

“Nah,” he says, and he reaches over and places his hand over hers on the arm of her chair for a few moments before getting up to go. On his way out, he kisses her on the cheek, tells her he loves her. Then he loads the dishwasher and takes out the trash before heading to his car. She watches him reluctantly leaving, knowing that he wishes he could stay, that things were different.

When Paige hears the sound of Grant’s motor fade as he turns out of the front gate, she imagines herself calling him on his cell and telling him to come back and pick her up, that she’ll come to Moretti’s with him and do all the scheduling and books, that she’ll learn to play the piano just so she can make him happy. And, after all the patrons leave for the night, they’ll share bottles of Chianti on checkered tablecloths in a dimly lit back booth. They’ll eat linguini and clams and have a Lady and the Tramp moment, and they will be happy again.

Paige does not do this. She goes into the living room and closes the drapes Grant opened, blocking out the sunlight, then she crawls under a bunched-up duvet on the couch that smells like sour milk, and she begs for sleep.

Available on May 17, 2022. Purchase Links:

Review of WHEN THE MEADOW BLOOMS by Ann H. Gabhart

On May 13, 2022 By vickleaIn Book Review5 Comments

This is such a heartwarming and sweet story of a family in crisis who need to find each other in order to survive. Rose Meadows is a widow with two young daughters, barely surviving in 1925, when she contracts tuberculosis and has to be put into a sanatorium. With no other recourse, Rose has to leave her two daughters, Calla and Sienna, at a local orphanage, supposedly for only a short while. The short time keeps getting extended because of Rose’s health and the girls are having a hard time surviving the dictates of the leadership at the orphanage. Calla and Rose both write a letter to the only person that they think may be willing to help, their reclusive uncle and brother-in-law, Dirk Meadows. The story is so well told that it was like I was seeing a movie in my head of all of the past hurts and all of the healing that had to take place. Dirk was hurt physically, but more than than, he was wounded emotionally and spiritually. In helping Rose and her girls, he opens himself up to more pain but also to a healing beyond his imagination. This book includes some suspense about how to get the girls out of the orphanage as well as a mystery as to what happened to Dirk’s first love who seemingly disappeared after his accident. Calla’s desperation to stay at Uncle Dirk’s farm was evident and gut-wrenching. She was willing to sacrifice everything just to have a place to live that was good for her little sister. Sienna touched my heart with her simple love of nature and acceptance of all things good. Rose’s predicament was realistic and horrifying and then such a sweet turn-around when she is safely ensconced in her new home at The Meadows. The whole story was fast-paced and a joy to read. I raced through the pages to find out what would happen to Rose and the girls, but I also wanted to know what, if anything, would open up Dirk to forgiveness and love again. I cannot recommend this book highly enough to those who enjoy historical fiction, romance and mystery because this book has it all!
Disclaimer
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Revell via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”