Bridges by Maria Murnane

Hi there!

Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.

Today, we're diving into book two from a newish to me author whose previous work I loved (no, really!  Check out my review for WAIT FOR RAIN and you'll see!) and most recent release, aka the title featured today, was a wonderful follow-up.  It's book two in the Daphne White collection and while yes, it would be most wonderful if you read the preceding book first as the relationships are that much brighter, the laughter that much more fulfilling, and the struggles that much more understandable, if you're simply unwilling to budge, it can work as a standalone.  Trust me though, you're not gonna want to leave it at just that.  *wink wink*  Anywho, before I fan girl on, allow me to introduce today's book of choice...

Bridges:

A Daphne White Novel

by

Maria Murnane

About the book...

It’s a piece of news Daphne never expected to hear: Her globe-trotting friend Skylar, who vowed never to get married, is engaged! Time to celebrate in Manhattan—Skylar’s treat, of course. After years scaling the corporate ladder, she can more than afford it.

Daphne arrives in NYC with news of her own—the novel she’s finally finished appears to be going nowhere but the trash bin of every publishing house around. She’s devastated but plans to keep her disappointment under wraps, something that becomes trickier when she sees Skylar’s spectacular apartment. Could her life have been like this if she’d chosen a different path?

What Daphne doesn’t know is she’s not the only one with a secret. Skylar and their friend KC are also holding something back, but what? As the trip unfolds, the truth about each woman emerges, along with tears.

And laughter. And love.

The fun-loving trio readers fell for in Wait for the Rain is together once more. Here's to the power of friendship!

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Here we are with another adventure for the spunky, fierce, and simply lovable trio we first met in Wait for Rain, only this time, the venue is NEW YORK CITY!  Woo hoo, right?  Well, it is and there is much to celebrate...but there is also much to uncover.  You see, although they are the closest of friends, they're still human so insecurities, fears, and doubts rear their ugly heads from time to time creating tiny rifts that when put under increased pressure tend to explode in spectacular ways.  Let's just say that between Daphne's attempts at being published, and the secrets that both her besties are hiding, we're looking at a relocation for Mount Vesuvius.  Good thing true friendships are built to last...supporting us through our hard times and bringing us together to celebrate the best of them...and these ladies are about as true blue as you can get.

It was a pleasure catching up with the gang again and seeing the sights that the big apple has to offer, even when it's a whirlwind of a short stay.  I won't go into too much detail because the secrets are half the surprise, but I will say that each one harbors it for their own reasons, and, once out, are better for it.  I was surprised by Daphne's intense interest in keeping the results of her publishing quest silent after all the soul searching and revelations in book one, but then again, it went with her nature.  Still, I wanted to give her a big hug and the clichéd "it's going to be alright" speech because seriously, she was in pain!  Speaking of pain, our girl K.C....OMG!  What the hey!  I could instantly tell something was up as she just wasn't herself, but goodness!  Trying to keep that in with all the emotional tidal waves she was having...talk about strength.  It IS good to be able to lean on other sometimes though, and I'm so glad she has these two.  Last but not least, the girl of the hour...Skylar!  Her news is probably most surprising, given her personality and past, but you can't help but be happy for her.  The growth she shows (and we're not talking monetarily) is heart warming, truly.

In the end, another checkmark in the WIN column of my book for this author.  It was a short but wonderful read, perfect for a summer vacay pick up or weekend indulgence.  Recommended for Chick Lit, and Women's Fiction fans in the older teen and adult age ranges....not for content, but for the maturity of the story.

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About the author...

A former PR executive who abandoned a successful career to pursue a more fulfilling life, Maria Murnane is the best-selling author of the Waverly Bryson series (Perfect on Paper, It’s a Waverly Life, Honey on Your Mind, and Chocolate for Two, which received a starred review in Publishers Weekly), as well as Katwalk, Wait for the Rain, Bridges and International Book Award winner Cassidy Lane. At her speaking engagements Maria shares the “story behind the story,” an entertaining tale of courage, passion and perseverance that has inspired audiences across the country to follow their dreams—no matter what.

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Special thanks to author Maria Murnane for the ebook for review.  (THANKS!)  For more information on this title, the author, or her complete body of works, feel free to click through the links provided above.  This title celebrated its book birthday just last month, so seek thee out a copy at your favorite online retailer.

Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!

BOOK BLAST: Under the Cherry Tree by Lilac Mills - SPOTLIGHT + EXCERPT!

Under the Cherry Tree

by

Lilac Mills

Chick Lit

Date Published:  05/31/2017

Only $0.99!

“A feel-good, heart-warming, tear-jerking love story.”

The best sort of holiday read, recommended for fans of Jane Costello, Erica James, and Lucy James

“My dog didn't like men. Actually that was a lie – she didn't like the men I chose. The only ones who rocked her world had been my father (who was no longer with us), Ross (who was gay), and the butcher on the high street (for obvious reasons).

When Jenni Meadows has the opportunity to expand her dog-grooming business she takes it, and when a nice man appears on her horizon but fails to make any sparks fly, she decides she has enough on her plate with her business without adding a boyfriend into the mix.

Besides, Millie doesn’t like him and when her dog doesn’t like a man, Jenni knows all about it. So why does Millie take a very strange liking to the new vet, especially since he has a taciturn expression, wears a wedding ring, and wields a needle?

Under the Cherry Tree is a tale of love and hope, waggy tails, and cold noses.

Amazon  |  Barnes and Noble  |  Kobo  |  iTunes  |  Book Launch

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Excerpt 

His name was Rupert, and that should have told me all I needed to know. Not that I’m nameist or anything, but with a name like that there was no way he came from the council estate up the road; the other kids would have decimated him! And he wasn’t a kid, not by a long stretch, not if that chest and those arms were any indication. He was tall too, like many rowers tend to be.

Rupert and I moved in entirely different circles, and I don’t know what on earth possessed me to agree to go out on a date with him, though the three glasses of white wine I’d drunk may have had something to do with it. I was drinking for two, because Amber had just that morning found out she was pregnant, and that meant I had to drink her share. Oh, and don’t forget that chest. It bulged and rippled and clung to his body like I wished I could. I only took my eyes off it long enough to make sure he didn’t have two heads. The face above a set of extremely broad shoulders looked nice enough, so I didn’t bother to check again.

But why the hell had I agreed to let him take me shooting? Who actually did something like that on a first date? Dinner, a drink, maybe a concert, ice-skating at a push – but definitely not clay pigeon shooting.

The only redeeming thing was that he told me I could bring Millie. And did I mention his chest?  If that’s what rowing did for a man, I made a vow to meet more rowers (if this one didn’t pan out).

Rupert the Rower. I should have realised, even without the accent, that he was way out of my league. He was an ex-Kings student (private school – very private, because mummy and daddy had to have a great deal of money to send their children there, and he was the youngest of three boys).

Then there was the house, or should I say, mansion. As I trundled up the gravelled drive in my little Micra, Millie panting on the passenger seat, I was under the impression this was where the shooting meet was taking place, not that Rupert actually lived there.

I pulled my ten-year-old car into a space between a brand-new Range Rover and a top-of-the-range Jag, and clambered out. Hollington Hall. Nice. I wondered if they did wedding receptions. Not that I had any plans on getting married any time soon (had to find the right guy first), but it was something to consider for the dim and distant future. At least I wasn’t like some of my friends who had picked the dress, the shoes, and the bridesmaids’ outfits, all before their sixteenth birthdays! I was merely mildly interested.

Surprisingly, for a hotel, the front door was firmly closed.

After unclipping Millie from her harness, I carried her up the steps and placed her gently on the ground between a pair of tall columns, and tried to turn the door handle. Locked.

There didn’t appear to be a bell, but there was a huge knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, so I banged it a couple of times and waited until  it was opened by an elderly woman in a pinny. She frowned at me.

‘I’m here for the shooting,’ I said.

She gave me a blank stare.

‘With some guy called Rupert? Sorry, I don’t know his last name.’ Perhaps I hadn’t got the right place either, because the large hallway behind her looked nothing like a hotel reception area. It lacked a front desk, for starters. A sleepy spaniel lifted its head and blinked, but made no move to get up. It was probably so used to guests that another one, even one with a dog, was nothing to get excited about.

‘Master Rupert,’ the woman said, issuing me with a stony stare.

‘Pardon?’

‘His name is Master Rupert Hollington.’

‘I thought Hollington was the name of this place?’

‘It is.’ She opened the grand door a little wider, and moved to the side with a sigh. ‘I’ll let him know he has a guest.’

I stepped into the hall, my eyes on stalks. Rupert Hollington of Hollington Hall. Rupert the Rower, who’d gone to Kings and had a plummy accent, and who thought taking a girl clay pigeon shooting on a first date was a good idea.

I wanted the highly polished, black-and-white tiled floor to open up and swallow me.

The maid/servant/housekeeper (I had no idea what to call her – she might be his long-suffering nanny for all I knew) stalked down the hall and disappeared through a door at the far end, leaving me to stare up at the sweeping staircase with my mouth open. The place was huge!

‘Jessie, how lovely you could make it.’ Rupert strode up to me, both hands outstretched, and moved in for a double cheek peck.

‘Jenni,’ I corrected him, mortified.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Erm…yes?’

‘Jenni it is then, though I could have sworn you told me your name was Jessie.’

‘It was noisy in the pub,’ I said, trying to make him feel better, though to be fair, he didn’t seem in the least bit fazed that he’d got my name wrong.

Never mind, it was an easy mistake to make.

‘I see you’ve brought your dog,’ he said. ‘Does it retrieve?’

I glanced down at Millie, with her white fluffy fur and pink diamante collar. ‘Not even a stick,’ I admitted, wondering why he thought a West Highland Terrier would double up as a retriever. Now if he’d asked about her ability to dig holes…

Rupert looked a little put out, but recovered quickly. ‘No bother. Just don’t let it off the lead, or it might interfere with the real dogs.’

Was he calling my dog fake? Huh! She was as doggy as any other canine.

I had a feeling this date wasn’t going to go as well as I’d hoped, especially when he asked, ‘Are your wellies in the car?’

Wellies? What wellies? Oh dear; I hadn’t thought to dress for mud, assuming my leather boots and chunky jacket would be outdoorsy enough. Clearly not. When I took the time to really look at him, I realised he was wearing a Barbour jacket and a pair of green Wellington boots. Both the jacket and the wellies were liberally spattered with mud.

‘Is the shoot in a field?’ I asked, pleased to be able to display some shooting terminology.

He gave me an odd look. ‘Where else would it be?’

Maybe I should have done a bit more research on Google. ‘I’ve never handled a gun before,’ I admitted. ‘The only thing I know about it, is that you call “pull” and then do your best to hit the thingy.’

I was unprepared for his sudden burst of laughter. ‘Oh, my dear girl, you’re priceless!’

‘Eh?’ So what if I didn’t know the correct term for those flying disk things? I’d already confessed I knew nothing about shooting.’

‘We’re shooting pheasant,’ he said, taking my arm and guiding me towards the door he had appeared from.

I pulled back. ‘Wait. What? As in real, live birds?’

He nodded.

‘Ew. No thanks.’

‘You don’t have to touch them,’ he said, giving my arm a tug.

It wasn’t the touching which bothered me – it was the killing itself. Millie, close by my side, gave a small grumble in the back of her throat, half warning, half concern, and nudged my leg with her nose. I bent to pat her, using the movement as an excuse to shake off his hand.

‘Is it friendly?’ he asked, leaning forward and holding out his fingers for her to sniff.

Millie drew back behind my legs.

‘She,’ I emphasised the word, ‘is perfectly friendly.’ And Millie promptly made me into a liar by emitting a low growl.

I tugged at her lead in annoyance, vowing to give her a good telling off later. Not that it would do any good; if a dog had to be admonished for bad behaviour, the ticking off had to take place immediately after the event, else the dog would have no idea why its owner was cross.

‘I don’t think shooting is for me,’ I said, and turned to leave. Even if Rupert suggested doing something else instead, I wasn’t sure he was my kind of guy.

Millie simply confirmed my thoughts when I glanced down at her.

She was weeing on his wellies.

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About the Author

Lilac spends all her time writing, or reading, or thinking about writing or reading, often to the detriment of her day job, her family, and the housework. She apologises to her employer and her loved ones, but the house will simply have to deal with it!

She calls Worcester home, though she would prefer to call somewhere hot and sunny home, somewhere with a beach and cocktails and endless opportunities for snoozing in the sun…

When she isn’t hunched over a computer or dreaming about foreign shores, she enjoys creating strange, inedible dishes in the kitchen, accusing her daughter of stealing (sorry – “borrowing”) her clothes, and fighting with her husband over whose turn it is to empty the dishwasher.

Website  |  Twitter  |  Facebook  |  Promo Link

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Special thanks to Cami at Reading Addiction Book Tours for the chance to bring this promotion to you.  (THANKS!)  For more information on this title, the author, or those tours on the horizon, feel free to click through the links provided above.


Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!

RELEASE DAY BLAST: About Last Summer by Patricia B. Tighe - SPOTLIGHT + EXCERPT!

   

Hello Readers! Welcome to the Release Day Celebration for

About Last Summer by Patricia B. Tighe

presented by Swoon Romance!

Check out the excerpt below, and find your next read!

   

Happy Book Birthday, Patricia!

     

 

 

About Last Summer

 by

 Patricia B. Tighe

Publication Date: May 30, 2017

 Publisher: Swoon Romance

Available for Purchase: Amazon

Pretend to be from Spain? Act like she can barely speak English? Sure, why not? It wouldn’t be the first time Gabby Vega had agreed to a challenge from her best friend, Kenzie. Besides, it’s only for a week of vacation with Kenzie’s cousins. Gabby will prove to Kenzie she can keep up the fake identity for the whole trip—that she’s not a quitter.

There’s just one major surprise. Noah Jernigan is also staying with Kenzie’s cousins. Noah, the boy she fell in love with at drama camp last summer and the boy she had to dump when it was over. The boy who knows who she really is. Noah can’t believe it when Gabby appears at the Bryson’s vacation home in the New Mexico mountains. He hasn’t seen her in a year. It practically took that long just to get over her. And now she’s Gabriela from Spain? All he wants is to get as far away as he can. Or maybe the exact opposite. Stick as close to her as possible and find out what the heck happened last summer. And definitely get some payback. Now Gabby has to keep Noah at arm’s length as she pretends to be Gabriela. She doesn’t want to answer his questions or rehash last summer. Because one thing is clear—the more time she spends with Noah, the more she’s in danger of falling for him all over again.

 

 
 

Gabby

We entered a bright corner room with windows on two sides and twin beds. It was pretty, but I couldn’t really take it all in.

“Sit down,” Kenzie said, taking the backpack from my shoulder. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve lost your best friend, and I’m still right here, so talk.”

I sat on one of the beds and slid my hands under my thighs. “Remember last fall when I was getting over the guy from drama camp?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s him. Noah Jernigan.”

Kenzie’s mouth fell open. “No way.”

I nodded.

“But, how could—? I mean, I thought he lived far away from Austin, like San Diego or something.”

“No, San Antonio.”

Kenzie was shaking her head. “And he goes to Geoff’s school. What are the odds?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t stay here. This is a nightmare.”

“No, you have to stay. That would be quitting. You wanted a challenge, didn’t you?”

“This is more than a challenge. I have no idea what he’s going to do. He knows me, Kenz. He can tell everyone who I am.”

She plopped onto the opposite bed. “But you don’t know that for sure. I mean, he went along with it outside, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, but it was so sudden. After he thinks about it, he’ll probably want to stand on the table and announce it to everybody.”

Kenzie laughed. “Still. He didn’t give you away, and he could’ve.” She got up and walked to the window. After staring out for a second, she turned back. “I say wait it out. See what he’s going to do. He might be really cool about it.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Would you? If someone dumped you and a year later you saw them pretending to be somebody else … would you be nice about it?”

***

 

Noah

I took a swig of Coke and chanced another look at Gabby. She was staring at Kenzie who was describing the nearby town and things to do. Gabby’s dark brown hair hung around her shoulders in loose curls. I could still remember how it felt to wrap one of those silky curls around my finger, and then let it slide free.

The conversation went on, but I wasn’t listening anymore. What would it be like to run my hands through Gabby’s hair again, to have her look only at me? And, as if she heard my thoughts, she made eye contact. Her smile fell away. There was a weird look in her dark brown eyes. One I’d never seen before. And then it sank in. Fear.

Gabby was afraid of me.

I turned back to my plate, but it was empty. I couldn’t remember finishing the sandwich. A pasty taste filled my mouth, so I chugged the rest of my soda. What did she have to be afraid of? I almost laughed out loud. Stupid question. I knew who she was. I could ruin her little game. The Spanish girl. Anger surged back through me.

The girl from Spain, who was really the girl from Austin, who was the girl who’d dumped me, who was the girl I’d been in love with. It had hurt. It was embarrassing how much it had hurt. Had she cared at all? I doubted it.

But she was afraid. The opportunity for revenge appeared as easily as if I’d asked someone at the table to pass it to me.

Hey, Geoff, pass the revenge.

Sure. Mind if I take some first?

Not at all. Help yourself.

Everything inside me settled into determination. No way was I going home early. Not when I could spend a week getting back at Gabby Vega. I smiled. She was scared of what I might do? Good. Because I was just getting started.

***

 

 

Gabby

With a sigh, I fell back against the soft sheets and stared at the flawless white ceiling. No cracks to stare at to pass the time. I knew I couldn’t focus on a book. Not when I kept reliving that warm look in Noah’s eyes after I’d done the chicken impression. It was almost like he wasn’t mad anymore. Like he was enjoying everything. Even being around me.

But then the look had slid off his face as if he were thinking about the worst memory of his life. Was that me? Was I his worst memory? I had no idea. But it was probably the reason he was going to so much trouble to make me look stupid.

He was punishing me. Guilt and frustration warred in my chest. Never in a million years had I thought I’d hurt him so badly. I’d figured he’d be over me in a couple of weeks and get on with his life. That I was the only one hurting. Guess I was wrong. How long had it taken him to get past it all? If he was like me, way too long.

I stood and went to the window facing the back of the house. A wooden deck partially blocked the view of Kenzie and the guys shooting baskets. Laughter sounded, clear even through the closed window. Kenzie jumped up and launched the ball through the air.

“You suck!” Geoff’s voice rang out.

I smiled. Kenzie’s shot must have gone in.

Noah came into view, shooting what looked like the same shot, his body long and graceful in the air. I leaned my cheek against the cool glass of the window. He was so beautiful to watch. But the bang of his shot hitting the rim jerked me out of my semi-swoon. I gave my head a quick shake. I had to stop this. If I didn’t, I’d repeat my mistake from last summer and fall in love with him.

Only this time there was no chance he’d make the same mistake. He hated me.

***

Gabby

“Gamma?” Geoff asked, without looking away from the cards in his hand. “Did I hear you say ‘Noah’?”

“Yes.”

“Have you seen him?” he asked.

“Yes, a while ago, though. He went out the back door, carrying his guitar.”

Geoff grunted. “He probably won’t be back for a while then.”

True. When he played guitar, Noah traveled to another world. I couldn’t stop myself. I pushed away from the window. “Excuse me,” I said to no one in particular and left the room. I eased out the front door and dropped into one of the huge wooden rocking chairs that lined the porch. The sounds of a faraway guitar floated through the air like a feather that refused to land.

I exhaled, relaxing into the sound, wishing I was sitting across a campfire from him, watching his fingers dance across the strings. A sudden pain left me pressing a hand to my chest.

The realization of how much I’d missed his music, missed him, left me almost gasping for air. Why here? Why now? I massaged my breastbone with the heel of my hand, trying to rub the ache into nonexistence. Nothing could change between us. I’d made my decision last summer. It wouldn’t be fair to act like we could start over.

I set the rocking chair into motion. Forget all of that. Just listen to the music. I let the strumming sound wash over me for several minutes until my pulse returned to normal. Then the sound dipped too low for me to hear. I leaned forward, straining with everything I had, but it was no good. A few notes rose up to tease me, then dropped away again.

I was being stupid. It was just Noah playing guitar. And I wanted to hear it better. There was no special meaning behind it. None. I rose, jogged down the steps, and headed around the side of the house.

***

 

Noah

I was three measures into a different Celtic song when a sound broke my concentration. A footstep? Probably not. I frowned and kept playing. But somehow, the shades of darkness shifted. I squinted. Someone stood on the blacktop where we shot baskets, half hidden by the side of the deck.

My heart rate picked up. There was only one person it could be. The others were inside, and Amanda didn’t go anywhere without Haley. I kept playing, just more quietly. “You can come out,” I said. “I know you’re there.”

Gabby’s voice came from the blackness. “How?”

I waited until she reached the bottom of the steps. “A shadow moved or something.”

“Oh.” She stepped up and sat on the stair just below the deck’s floor. “That sounds familiar.”

Crap. I’d been playing her song again. I purposely plucked the wrong string, the flat note twanging out like a slap. “Haven’t played it in awhile.” Idiot, idiot. You played it a few minutes ago. If she was outside, she heard it.

She leaned back on her elbows and faced the backyard. “It’s still good.”

I could’ve switched songs. I so wanted to. But a perverse need to show her just how great the song could be filled me with determination. So I let myself fall completely into the music, each note ringing out with precision and aching sweetness.

Finally, when my chest was so tight I could barely breathe, I stopped. My body still rocked uncontrollably forward and back, the last notes reverberating into the night.

She said nothing. Just sat there as if she deserved the whole performance.

And I was caught. I wanted to jump up and go inside. But I also wanted to lean toward her. Remember how much you liked that last summer? Do you still? I had to be the biggest fool between here and whatever the hell river ran through Texas.

She sighed, and it broke through the Gabby-cloud in my mind. “What’re you doing out here, Gabby?”

She looked over her shoulder at me, but I couldn’t see her face in the darkness. Just her soft voice floated out. “Why didn’t you play games with everybody?”

I picked idly at the guitar strings. “I’m tired of games. Especially ones I can’t win.”

 

 

 

 

The mother of two grown sons, Patricia B. Tighe lives in West Texas with her husband and dog. She eats way too much pizza, drinks way too much coffee, and watches way too much NFL football. On the bright side, she also reads and writes teen fiction. She promises to include as much romance, angst, and adventure as possible in her books.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr | Instagram | Goodreads

 

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It's all in the cards...: Destined by Gail Cleare

Hi there!

Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.

To all my stateside readers, wishing you a Happy Memorial Day and my heart goes out to all the families of those that gave their life serving our country.

*a moment of silence, please*

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Thank you.

Now, we head back to the stacks as we tackle a book set on revealing your destiny, or at least that of the leading lady, in due time.  It's classified as a Magical-Realism Romance, a grand name for literally what it sounds...a romance tinged read with earthy magic running through its roots.  Are you game?  Well then, let's discover what we will as today's book of choice makes its presence known...

Destined

A Novel of the Tarot

by

Gail Cleare

9781461007760

About the book...

IS YOUR LIFE DESTINED?

This is the year Emily learns how to deliberately shape the future. She finally gets the courage to walk away from her safe routine and takes a job at the fabulous curio shop owned by Henry Paradis, an occult scholar. Recognizing her psychic talents as the valuable gifts they are, Henry teaches Emily to accept her magical nature and “look forward.” She chooses the path to light and happiness, opening her heart to brave its inevitable obstacles. She finds lifelong friends, falls in love with an incredibly sexy man, learns the power of desire and intention, faces her worst fears and is swept toward awakening. The mystical images of the Tarot’s archetypal trump cards chart the way, 22 sequential steps along the path to success known as “The Fool’s Journey.” Illustrated by images from the Payen Tarot of Marseilles (1713), which is the oldest surviving Tarot deck.

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This isn't my first go round with this author, in fact I just came off reading The Taste of Air when this title came to my attention, but they are definitely two different peas in two different pods.  The aforementioned book was Women's Fiction and had what I felt was a more sweeping storyline...this one was curious but didn't grab me so much.  Allow me to explain...

Emily is a great gal and I love her new age way of approaching life.  I mean, being guided by the stream of existence in lieu of constantly trying to MAKE something happen...hello?  Can we say just how much more relaxing that sounds even as a concept?  Yes, we can, and I did...just now.  Allowing for the reduction in stress levels, one can easily see meditation being a favorite pastime, an easier time of creating connections with those we'd like to call friend, and a greater chance at an embraceable love life...all of which totally happen for our girl.  Grant it, it's not as easy as "think it and it will happen", but it definitely steps towards the "positive thinking brings positive results" way of living.  She has struggles and uncertainties to face (as well as those who would do her harm!), but with her "forward" outlook and surrounding support, there's not much that can keep our girl down.

Now, the story follows the path of the tarot giving Emily her ups, downs, and in-betweens, but the connections forged throughout the story are definitely what kept me reading.  The neighborhood is filled to the brim with interesting characters, families you'd want to call your own, good friends in waiting, and even potential in the heartthrob department.  My favorite?  Henry, her boss and mentor.  He's a wily old gent with a heart of gold, that is equally endearing while reminiscing about Marie, as he is comical when he's excited about a new find.  They definitely make a colorful web of life for Emily to both navigate and feel secure within.

In the end, it was a curious read with many heart warming moments along the way, but it just didn't quite live up to the expectations I set for it in my head...and I had a rough time with some of the one on one dialogue feeling a bit stilted.  What can you do?  No really...if you're asking, have a read for yourself!  After all, one reader's so-so adventure can be just the ticket you were looking for to escape your own humdrum summer.  Oh and P.S....the illustrated tarot card chapter openers, definitely an amazing detail, as is the included meaning generally accepted for the card itself.  A nice little bonus for those readers wishing to explore that concept further.

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About the author...

USA Today bestselling author Gail Cleare has written for magazines, newspapers, Fortune 50 companies and AOL. Her award-winning ad agency represented the creators of the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. She was the turle Leonardo's date for the world premier of the second movie, and got to wear a black evening gown and sparkly shoes.

As a fine art and nature photographer, Gail's work is held in private collections across the US, and she can often be found stalking creatures with a 300 mm lens.

Her first novel, Destined, a novel of the Tarot, won honorable mentions at the New England Book Festival and the Green Book Festival. Her second novel, women's fiction titled The Taste of Air, will be released by Red Adept Publishing in September, 2016. The unedited manuscript won a gold medal from HarperCollins' website Authonomy, and was shortlisted for a Somerset Award.

Gail Cleare lives on an historic farm in New England with her family and dogs, cats, chickens, black bears, blue herons, rushing streams and wide, windy skies.

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Special thanks to author Gail Cleare for the copy for review.  (THANKS!)  For more information on this title, or the author, feel free to click through the links provided above.  This title is available now in both ebook and print formats, so click or visit your favorite retailer today to pick up a copy to call your own.

Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!