Hi there!
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.
I don't know about you, but the heat has really decided to become a relentless companion this past week. I know, it just started, but I'm telling you! We were all 70 degrees and fine to 90 degrees and melting in the blink of an eye. It's enough to make me wish I could reach into today's title to snag one of those orange popsicles! ~whew~ Anywho...
Today, we're taking a walk through the pages of a newly released Women's Fiction title via The Story Plant, currently touring with Providence Book Promotions. It's a title filled with interesting characters, good humor, and heart...but not all the experiences are smile worthy for everyone within. Ready or not, fair readers, I give you today's book of choice...
Crossing the Street
by Molly D. Campbell
Genre: Women's Fiction
Published by: The Story Plant
Publication Date: May 9, 2017
Number of Pages: 290
About the book...
This wasn’t the way Beck Throckmorton had planned it. She wasn’t expecting to find herself in her thirties writing erotica and making flat whites for a living while she stewed over that fact that her ex had wound up with her sister. She never saw herself living in a small suburban Ohio town with an octogenarian neighbor best friend. And she definitely wouldn’t have imagined the eight-year-old great-granddaughter of that friend turning her world upside down.
As summer comes around, Beck’s life is unsettled in every way. And that’s before the crazy stuff starts: the sister taunting her with her pregnancy, the infuriatingly perfect boyfriend, the multiple trips to the emergency room. The needy, wise-beyond-her-years little girl finding places in her heart that Beck didn’t even know existed.
Beck has found herself at an emotional intersection she never anticipated. And now it’s time to cross the street.
CROSSING THE STREET is a funny, touching novel that brims life’s complexities. Filled with characters both distinctive and welcomingly familiar, it is a story that will entertain and enlighten.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Read an excerpt:
My life isn’t exactly bright and shiny. My name is Rebecca Throckmorton. I live in a small town, and I muddle along as best I can. Four scenes from my world:
Scene one: I am at the grocery store. Aimlessly wandering down the produce aisle, looking at the grocery list, as usual, in my mother’s elegant hand. What the hell is a rutabaga, and why do we need one? Suddenly, I see my father, who is long gone from our family—divorce. He is wearing a gold golf shirt, his khaki slacks, crisp and unwrinkled. His hair from the back is a bit silvery, as I am sure it would be after being away from our family for all these years. My heart lurches—He’s back! He came back! I abandon my cart and nearly bowl over a woman studying kiwis, knocking the one in her hand to the ground. I don’t even stop to apologize, because my dad. I come up behind him, breathe in his cologne—yup, Eau de Sauvage. I reach out to touch his shoulder, and he turns around. I gasp. The man is definitely not Dexter Throckmorton. Instead of a Roman nose, this guy has a schnozz. There is awful hair growing out of his nostrils. His eyes are not velvety and black, like my father’s—they are a watery gray and clouded with cataracts. He hears me gasp and asks, “Do I know you?” I abandon the rutabaga and rush out of the store, grocery list still crushed between my fingers.
Scene two: My sister’s wedding. I am wearing a sleeveless, misty green satin dress with two small lines of silver sequins along the bodice. The misty green is reflected in my coloring and makes me look slightly vomitous. I feel about to vomit, since my sister Diana is marrying my former boyfriend, Bryan Dallas, who stands at the end of the aisle, beaming, his horn rims polished so highly I worry that he might start a fire with their refractions into the balcony. As D comes down the aisle on my mother’s arm (see divorce, above), my mother looking for all the world like an aging Audrey Hepburn in a slender tube of taupe silk, I look down at my bouquet and stifle the impulse to hurl it in my sister’s smug, highly-made-up-with-false-eyelashes-and-dewy-lip-gloss face.
Scene three: Me and my girlfriend, Ella Bowers. I sit with her in front of the TV. We like to watch really old reruns of Lawrence Welk that I found for her on the Family Network. Ella pats down her soft, fluffy lavender white hair, and every time Myron Floren comes on comments how much her mother “just loved that man and his accordion.” I nod and agree, because I don’t intend to hurt her feelings—Ella is eighty-three, and I don’t want her to get riled up and have a stroke. I notice my cut glass tumbler of iced tea is empty, and I offer to go into the kitchen of her cozy bungalow and get us each some more.
Scene four: My day job and what really pays the bills. I get home from my part-time job at Starbucks at four. I stretch, try to do the downward facing dog, and fail, as usual, about three quarters of the way down. My cat, Simpson, ambles over for a purr, and then I go and pee, change into sweats, and sit down at my computer, where I pound out a scene in which four orgasms occur within the space of twenty minutes between Travis and Crystal, who are extremely talented genitally. My latest book, Boys on the Beach, is under contract and due at my publisher in two months. When I think about this, sweat pools into the cups of my bra, because I am behind schedule, and erotica pays the bills, not venti lattes.
There you have it.
Scene one: I am at the grocery store. Aimlessly wandering down the produce aisle, looking at the grocery list, as usual, in my mother’s elegant hand. What the hell is a rutabaga, and why do we need one? Suddenly, I see my father, who is long gone from our family—divorce. He is wearing a gold golf shirt, his khaki slacks, crisp and unwrinkled. His hair from the back is a bit silvery, as I am sure it would be after being away from our family for all these years. My heart lurches—He’s back! He came back! I abandon my cart and nearly bowl over a woman studying kiwis, knocking the one in her hand to the ground. I don’t even stop to apologize, because my dad. I come up behind him, breathe in his cologne—yup, Eau de Sauvage. I reach out to touch his shoulder, and he turns around. I gasp. The man is definitely not Dexter Throckmorton. Instead of a Roman nose, this guy has a schnozz. There is awful hair growing out of his nostrils. His eyes are not velvety and black, like my father’s—they are a watery gray and clouded with cataracts. He hears me gasp and asks, “Do I know you?” I abandon the rutabaga and rush out of the store, grocery list still crushed between my fingers.
Scene two: My sister’s wedding. I am wearing a sleeveless, misty green satin dress with two small lines of silver sequins along the bodice. The misty green is reflected in my coloring and makes me look slightly vomitous. I feel about to vomit, since my sister Diana is marrying my former boyfriend, Bryan Dallas, who stands at the end of the aisle, beaming, his horn rims polished so highly I worry that he might start a fire with their refractions into the balcony. As D comes down the aisle on my mother’s arm (see divorce, above), my mother looking for all the world like an aging Audrey Hepburn in a slender tube of taupe silk, I look down at my bouquet and stifle the impulse to hurl it in my sister’s smug, highly-made-up-with-false-eyelashes-and-dewy-lip-gloss face.
Scene three: Me and my girlfriend, Ella Bowers. I sit with her in front of the TV. We like to watch really old reruns of Lawrence Welk that I found for her on the Family Network. Ella pats down her soft, fluffy lavender white hair, and every time Myron Floren comes on comments how much her mother “just loved that man and his accordion.” I nod and agree, because I don’t intend to hurt her feelings—Ella is eighty-three, and I don’t want her to get riled up and have a stroke. I notice my cut glass tumbler of iced tea is empty, and I offer to go into the kitchen of her cozy bungalow and get us each some more.
Scene four: My day job and what really pays the bills. I get home from my part-time job at Starbucks at four. I stretch, try to do the downward facing dog, and fail, as usual, about three quarters of the way down. My cat, Simpson, ambles over for a purr, and then I go and pee, change into sweats, and sit down at my computer, where I pound out a scene in which four orgasms occur within the space of twenty minutes between Travis and Crystal, who are extremely talented genitally. My latest book, Boys on the Beach, is under contract and due at my publisher in two months. When I think about this, sweat pools into the cups of my bra, because I am behind schedule, and erotica pays the bills, not venti lattes.
There you have it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beck was an interesting character. I mean, I could relate to her in many ways and often found myself chuckling at her antics, outbursts, and ponderings. The difference between her "day job" versus "pays the bills job" was like night and day, but it just goes to reinforce the idea of not judging a book by it's cover because really, would you have ever thought she was a writer in her night hours, let alone of erotica? Yeah, I think not. Before you get your feathers ruffled, I'm not judging the genre, merely making a point. You get an idea of what they should or shouldn't look/live like in your head and BOOM...it sticks. Anywho...
Beck had a lot of heart, shown incredibly by her wonderful friendship with the Ella, the octogenarian next door, and reestablished (if there was any doubt) when young Bob pays an extended visit. Who's Bob? Ah, yes...well, SHE'S a darling little girl, Ella's granddaughter to be precise, and she's hit more than her share of rough patches in her young life. Right now, she's motherless (by a choice not a passing) and missing her father dearly (military), so she's a bit lackluster in spirits understandably, but Beck will have none of it. She puts in extra efforts to not only make Ella's new responsibilities easier on her but to liven up young Bob and put a smile back on her face. There's no question the depth of the heart that runs throughout the book, even with the occasional swerve into family troubles, and erotica scene writing escapades.
There was but one flaw for me though, and that was Beck's love life. Now, I'm not saying she should live what she writes, but the decisions she makes or rather forces herself to accept seemed out of character for her. What's that? I didn't write the character so how can I say that? Ah, well you got me there, but that doesn't me I can't feel the way I do...and I do. Her somewhat forced relationship with her sweaty handed gentleman suitor felt off from the start. I mean, just because he sounds good doesn't mean he's the one for you...sometimes you have to wait for that popcorn moment. (You'll get it when you read it....)
In the end, it was a good read, certainly worthy of crossing the street for (book title joke! ^-^), and one I think Women's Fiction readers will find a good home for on their bookshelves.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author Bio:
Molly D. Campbell is a two-time Erma Bombeck Writing Award winner and the author of one previous novel, Keep the Ends Loose. Molly blogs at http://mollydcampbell.com. Also an artist, Molly’s work can be found at http://www.cafepress.com/notexactlypicasso. Molly lives in Dayton with her accordionist husband and four cats.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And now...
HERE'S YOUR CHANCE TO WIN!
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Providence Book Promotions for Molly D. Campbell and The Story Plant. There will be 1 winner of 1 Amazon.com Gift Card AND 3 winners of 1 eBook copy of KEEP THE ENDS LOOSE by Molly D. Campbell. The giveaway begins on May 1st and runs through July 8th, 2017. This giveaway is for US residents only. Void where prohibited by law.
Visit Providence Book Promotions for more great reads!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Special thanks to Gina at Providence Book Promotions for the chance to bring this tour to you as well as for the copy for review. (THANKS!) For more information on this title, the author, THIS TOUR, or those on the horizon, feel free to click through the links provided above. This title is available now, so be on the lookout for it on a bookstore shelf or virtual retailer of your choosing.
Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!
2 comments:
Since I read this book, I agree that it should be book of the day! I loved it so much that I am hoping there is a sequel!
Thanks for having me! 🍭
Post a Comment