The Borgia Confessions by Alyssa Palombo – Spotlight

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Alyssa Palombo, who is celebrating tomorrow’s release of The Borgia Confessions.

During the sweltering Roman summer of 1492, Rodrigo Borgia has risen to power as pope. Rodrigo’s eldest son Cesare, forced to follow his father into the church and newly made the Archbishop of Valencia, chafes at his ecclesiastical role and fumes with jealousy and resentment at the way that his foolish brother has been chosen for the military greatness he desired.

Maddalena Moretti comes from the countryside, where she has seen how the whims of powerful men wreak havoc on the lives of ordinary people. But now, employed as a servant in the Vatican Palace, she cannot help but be entranced by Cesare Borgia’s handsome face and manner and finds her faith and conviction crumbling in her want of him.

As war rages and shifting alliances challenge the pope’s authority, Maddalena and Cesare’s lives grow inexplicably entwined. Maddalena becomes a keeper of dangerous Borgia secrets, and must decide if she is willing to be a pawn in the power games of the man she loves. And as jealousy and betrayal threaten to tear apart the Borgia family from within, Cesare is forced to reckon with his seemingly limitless ambition.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Not much changed for those of us in service at the Vatican Palace when the new pope took over. There were still the same tasks to see to, the same rooms to be cleaned, the same floors to be scrubbed, and the same laundry to be washed. The Holy Father was to be obeyed whoever he was, and his earthly house was to be kept clean and running smoothly so he could attend to far more lofty matters. One morning I was returning to the kitchens with an empty tray from one of the cardinals’ rooms—the new Vice-Chancellor, Ascanio Sforza by name—when I passed a man heading for the Holy Father’s audience chamber. He was rather garishly dressed, in brightly colored hose and tunic with a huge codpiece, and wear- ing a hat with a large feather in it. He winked and leered at me as I passed, and I cast my eyes down. Surely such a man was not fit for an audience with the Holy Father?

I caught up with one of the other maids, Fabrizia, at the end of the hallway. “Fabrizia,” I murmured, my voice low so my words would not echo off the marble floors and walls, “who is that man?” I jerked my chin toward the man’s retreating back.

She snickered. “That’s Juan Borgia. The pope’s son,” she confided. I gasped. All of Rome knew of the existence of Cardinal Borgia’s children—Pope Alexander, I corrected myself. It was no secret that many of the other cardinals had mistresses and bastard children as well. But for a pope to acknowledge such children . . .

An effective ED medicine like levitra lowest price Kamagra is greatly cooperative to deal with such genital weakness. The risks for viagra for women the onset of postpartum depression and anxiety can stop the brain from sending signals, preventing an erection process. Diabetes, stoutness, circulatory strain and a few analysts even recommended that genital arousal in ladies does not so much create sexual longing in ladies as it regularly does in men. levitra prices Where One Can Find generika levitra 20mg?viagra is a legal remedy which can be bought in almost every drugstore or in the Internet. “He brings his children into the Vatican?” I asked, shocked. “He allows them to be known as such, even now that he has been made pope?”

Fabrizia nodded. “It is unusual, indeed. No referring to them as his nephews or nieces, as popes usually do. And you know he keeps a mistress, yes?”

I gasped again. I had heard the whisperings, but I tried my best to close my ears to such things. Gossip—especially gossip about the Holy Father—was a sin.

Yet my curiosity rose, despite my pangs of guilt. I shall confess this sin after Mass on Sunday, I promised myself. “I . . . he does?” I asked.

Fabrizia’s eyes gleamed, and she drew me into a small alcove. She was well and truly settled in to gossip. “Oh, yes. Honestly, Maddalena, even for a country bumpkin you seem altogether too innocent sometimes—and you a widow, no less. Her name is Giulia Farnese and she is the most beautiful woman in Rome. He keeps her with his cousin, Adriana, and his daughter, Lucrezia. Can you imagine? And La Bella Farnese is married to Adriana’s own son! They were just married when Giulia La Bella caught Cardinal Bor- gia’s eye, and so Donna Adriana banished her son to the country estates to get him out of the way—before the cuckold’s horns were even properly affixed to his head, they say.” She snickered. “If the stories are true, Cardinal Borgia—Pope Alexander—has rewarded Adriana and her family richly, including the poor cuckolded son, which is exactly what she was hoping for.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice further. “He is said to be moving them to the pal- ace of Santa Maria in Portico. He wants La Bella Farnese nearer to him—they say there is a secret passage that connects the Vatican Palace to that one, so he can visit her in secret.”

About the Author: ALYSSA PALOMBO is the author of The Violinist of Venice, The Most Beautiful Woman in Florence, and The Spellbook of Katrina Van Tassel. She is a recent graduate of Canisius College with degrees in English and creative writing, respectively. A passionate music lover, she is a classically trained musician as well as a big fan of heavy metal. When not writing, she can be found reading, hanging out with her friends, traveling, or planning for next Halloween. She lives in Buffalo, New York, where she is always at work on a new novel.

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Six Musts Every Women’s Fiction Should Have by Carolyn Re and Loretta Re – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Carolyn Re and Loretta Re will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Six Musts Every Women’s Fiction Should Have

Our novel, Secrets of the IN-Group set in the authors’ home town of Albury, is classed as contemporary women’s fiction. It’s an ensemble story following six older women. Its main themes are adapting to change and the role friendships and romance play in sustaining us in later life.

1. Relatable or believable characters

We’ve all read books where we’ve identified closely with some of the characters. Even if you don’t behave in the way a character may act, and even if you don’t like them, chances are you will have known somebody similar. Our characters are like the women you’d meet in your book club. None of them is perfect, but that makes them warm and relatable. Like most of us, they want love and companionship, new experiences and a little adventure.

2. Sparkling dialogue

The dialogue must move the story forward, and be relevant and interesting enough to form a bond with the characters. There’s a lot of dialogue in our story and perhaps that’s why so many people have said they’d like to join the IN-group!

3. Plot twists

Plot twists are the spice in a novel. Everything is going along quietly, you’re getting to know your characters when suddenly, POW!, the story reveals something big, something you weren’t expecting and your book becomes a page turner. What will happen next? Your readers can’t wait to find out.

4. Romance and strong friendships

In any story with women at its centre, no matter their age, romance will always be indispensable. And for most women, friendships are one of the solid foundations of their lives. Our characters aren’t always kind to each other, but they end up learning how important their friends are, that rifts can always be mended and that romance may be just around the corner.

5. Sense of place

Life doesn’t occur in a vacuum, so creating a sense of place is vital to good storytelling. One of our five-star reviewers wrote “Secrets of the IN-group makes me want to go on holiday to Albury!!!”

6. Satisfying conclusion

A satisfying ending doesn’t mean everybody gets exactly what they want, but it can mean they grow to accept and embrace what they have. (And some will always get that happy ending!)

A small town. A world wide web. Is the net really a friend?
What do you do when the children have flown the nest and you have time on your hands?

Six women in the Australian riverside city of Albury realise that, without social media skills, they’re staring irrelevancy in the face. Their book club won’t cut it any more. It’s time to go virtual.

But their decision to plunge into the on-line world brings shocking revelations and unexpected outcomes. Friendships, new and old, are tested and their lives teeter on the edge of collapse. They must navigate a path through the chaos. But who exactly can they trust?

Enjoy an Excerpt

[At Martin’s technology lesson, Sarah is shocked at an image on her husband’s iPhone]

Sarah tried to smile, but her face felt stiff, as if she’d had Botox injected. Her mind screamed: Who is this girl who looks so like Anna? Why is she on Rob’s home screen? And why is he enveloping her in some sort of … horrible hug? It wasn’t the kind of hug you’d give a girlfriend, more like a father’s proud embrace.

Andrea cleared her throat loudly in a distracting way, quite out of character.

‘Sorry, but I have to go soon,’ she said, gathering her things. She slid her iPad into its leather satchel. ‘Such a nuisance. It’s been fun tonight.’ She looked at Martin. ‘There’s only ten minutes left, would you mind if we finished early? Pick up on this again next week?’

Thank you, Andrea. The ploy had given Sarah momentary breathing space. Her internal scream quietened a little. She had to get out of here, away from the goodbye chatter and the polite offers to take a slice of cake home. She needed to digest what she’d seen and work out what it meant. She had to have time to think.

She dreaded time to think. With the flick of a switch—what a cliché, but how true in this case—her life had changed. It was all so confusing; her fragmented brain whirled with questions. But an answer, barely thought out, misshapen but insistent, was boring into her brain.

Rob has another daughter somewhere. A daughter who’s the image of ours …

About the Authors:

Carolyn Re worked for over twenty years as a general practitioner before turning to writing. No longer needing to produce serious medical and scientific articles, she’s now writing contemporary fiction for older women. Carolyn lives in the regional city of Albury, New South Wales, with Ziggy the whippet and three contented chickens.

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Loretta Re is a former lawyer who is now writing novels and screenplays. Her book for middle grade readers, Stand Up and Cheer, is a story inspired by the rescue of the Uiver DC2 over Albury during the 1934 Centenary Air Race. It was voted one of the best books for literacy and language development in 2015. Loretta lives in Sydney and is on the board of Writing NSW.

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Lean on Me by Pat Simmons – Spotlight and Giveaway

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Pat Simmons who is celebrating today’s release of the first book in her new Family Is Forever series, Lean on Me. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a copy of the book.

First in an emotional, poignant romantic women’s fiction series from acclaimed inspirational romance author Pat Simmons.

No one should have to go it alone…

Tabitha Knicely is overwhelmed with sorrow and exhaustion caring for her beloved great-aunt, whose dementia is getting worse. When her neighbor Marcus Whittington accuses Tabitha of elder neglect, he doesn’t realize how his threats to have Aunt Tweet taken away add to Tabitha’s pain.

Then Marcus gets to know the exuberant elderly lady and sees up close how hard Tabitha is fighting to keep everything together. Tabitha finds herself leaning on Marcus more and more. And he’s becoming more than happy to share her burdens…

Enjoy an Excerpt

Tabitha needed to refocus as she smiled lovingly at her aunt. Beginning today, Aunt Tweet would stay at an upscale adult day care while Tabitha began her first day at a new job.

After getting the milk carton out of the refrigerator, Tabitha walked back to the table and poured some into Aunt Tweet’s bowl. Chalking it up to another sad oddity of dementia, she was determined to keep happy memories in the forefront of her mind as she kissed her aunt’s cheek.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Aunt Tweet giggled, adjusting Tabitha’s red, floppy hat on her head. Since her arrival, her aunt had fallen in love with that hat and wore it practically every day, regardless of her ensemble. “I took a little walk around God’s green earth.”

“What?” Tabitha didn’t like the idea of her aunt out of her sight. “Without me?” It was easy for anyone to succumb to the tranquility and abundance of green space in Pasadena Hills, which rivaled the nearby Norwood Hills Country Club. But in the midst of that apparent peace, they were still on the outskirts of a neighborhood not nearly so safe. It definitely wasn’t safe for Aunt Tweet to wander. Tabitha shivered at the thought of worse-case scenarios.

“You were asleep.”

“That’s okay.” She hugged her aunt. “Next time, wake me and I’ll go with you.” She yawned, recalling her previous night’s lack of sleep. Her aunt had wanted to reminisce about her years as an airline stewardess, and Tabitha had indulged her before all of Aunt Tweet’s memories would slip away. Researchers had yet to find a cure, so Tabitha hoped God would reveal a cure to eradicate or reverse this terrible disease before it was too late for her aunt.
All of a sudden, Aunt Tweet dropped her spoon, spilling milk onto the table. “I left my scarf…I left my scarf!” Panic-stricken, she trembled and scooted her chair back.

Startled, Tabitha’s heart pounded, so she patted her chest to aid her breathing to return to normal. “It’s all right. I’ll get it from upstairs,” she said, reassuring her aunt that it was okay to forget things sometimes.
While staying with Kym, Aunt Tweet had worked herself into hysterics over the vintage scarf she had gotten as an engagement gift. Her aunt boasted she’d gotten rid of the husband but held onto the expensive shawl. There hadn’t been any peace in Kym’s house until she’d found it behind a pillow on the sofa.

“No!” Aunt Tweet shrieked, shaking her head. “On that porch. We’d better hurry.”

Confused, Tabitha tried to calm her down to figure out what was going on. “On my porch?” When her aunt shook her head, Tabitha asked, “Whose porch?”

“I don’t know.”

Dread seemed to pour over Tabitha like a downpour. “Okay, okay.” Of all the days for a distraction, this was not a good one. This was her first day on a new job. As a pharmaceutical sales rep, Tabitha could recite medical terms, facts, definitions, and clinical studies’ results in her sleep. She’d entered college as a biology major and graduated with a bachelor’s in business. The pharmaceutical industry gave her the benefit of both worlds. Plus, she thrived on studying the physiological, anatomical, pharmacological, and scientific properties of medicine, so she could communicate the benefits of the company’s products.

But family was family, so taking her duty as a caregiver seriously, Tabitha had resigned from her job of six years as a senior pharmaceutical sales rep to ease the stress of the demanding position. Not wanting to leave the field completely, she took a pay cut to work in a smaller territory with a competitor who demanded little to no overnight travel. The sacrifice was worth it. Plus, her aunt’s trust fund designated the money for her own care.

Tabitha rubbed her forehead. “Let me put something on, then we’ll go find it.” Tabitha raced upstairs, hurried into her clothes, then grabbed her briefcase. Minutes later, she almost slipped while rushing down the stairs in her heels.

She reentered the kitchen, and Aunt Tweet wasn’t in sight. Tabitha checked the adjacent family room, then peeped outside toward the patio. Her aunt was behind the wheel of Tabitha’s rental car. Not good. She hadn’t purchased a car in years. A perk for being a sales rep, after she completed her two-week training, which started today, would be a company-issued vehicle.

After locking up the house, she had to convince Aunt Tweet, who had worked herself into a frenzy, that she couldn’t drive. Tabitha had to coax her own self to have patience while following her aunt’s conflicting directions, thinking, I can’t be late for my first day on the job.

“That’s the place!” Aunt Tweet yelled as Tabitha jammed on her brakes in front of a stately, story-and-a-half, older brick house she had never noticed before. The massive front door was centered under an archway. Twin french doors with mock balconies were on both sides of the entrance.

“I don’t see anything.” She craned her neck, admiring the impressive work of building art.

Aunt Tweet snapped, “I told you that’s the porch.”

“Okay.” There is no reason for your sharp tone, Tabitha thought but dared not voice. This house wasn’t that close to hers at all. Despite some mental deterioration, there was nothing wrong with her aunt’s physical stamina. She had obviously cut through the common ground area among the houses to get here.

After parking her car, Tabitha got out and surveyed her surroundings to make sure she wasn’t being watched. “This is crazy, sneaking up to somebody’s house,” she muttered to herself. Since the coast was clear, she hurried toward the red scarf that was snagged on a flower in a pot and flapping in the wind. She was within her reach when the door opened. Tabitha jumped back, then steadied herself in her heels.

An imposing man filled the doorway. Under different circumstances, he would be breathtakingly handsome. That was not the case now. Judging from his snarl and piercing eyes, Tabitha felt as if she had walked into the lion’s den.

***

Excerpted from Lean on Me by Pat Simmons. © 2020 by Pat Simmons. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

About the Author Pat Simmons is an author of more than thirty-five titles and a self-proclaimed genealogy sleuth who is passionate about researching her ancestors, then casting them in starring roles in her novels. Pat holds a B.S. in mass communications from Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts. She has worked in various positions in radio, television, and print media for more than twenty years. For fourteen years, she oversaw the media publicity for the RT Booklovers Convention. She lives with her husband in Florissant, Missouri.

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A Woman’s Persuasion by Jeanette Watts – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.
Jeanette Watts will be awarding a Cameo Necklace to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What would you do for a second chance at a perfect love?

Anne’s privileged family forced her to break off her romance with Freddie Wentworth, an Air Force pilot; they didn’t approve. Almost eight years later, Freddie is back in her life. Can they rekindle an old flame? Or is there too much hurt and misunderstanding in the way?

Enjoy an Excerpt:

New York was full of public green spaces: Prospect Park close to the Musgrove house, Green-Wood Cemetery near the dry cleaners, and of course Central Park in Manhattan.

She had gone to see an exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and then went for a long walk on the endlessly winding trails, when she happened upon Henry and Louis walking with Freddie.

“Anne!” Henry exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing, walking alone in Central Park?”

Anne gave them a nonchalant shrug. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m walking alone in Central Park.”

Louis took her arm. “You idiot! Well, you’re going to have to stick with us.” He gestured at Freddie. “Have you met Anne? She’s our brother’s wife’s sister.”

“We met at your brother’s house, and we already ascertained that we went to Cornell at the same time,” Freddie nodded civilly to Anne.

“Hello,” Anne answered her nod with a weak smile.

“We’re asking for details about Freddie’s glamorous career as a pilot. She’s frustratingly close-mouthed about everything,” Henry complained.

“Well, you know military personnel can’t say much about what they’re doing. Why are you asking?” Anne chastised the both of them. Her eyes met Freddie’s for a moment, and Anne’s voice dried up and withered away to nothing. She remembered when she was the one asking Freddie the questions, and Freddie would answer her with a laugh, “Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“Well, what I can tell you is that the recruiters really aren’t lying when they say ‘It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure,’ ” Freddie offered.

About the Author:

Jeanette Watts was happily writing historical fiction when she got the idea for her first Jane Austen-inspired novel, Jane Austen Lied to Me. Going to a JASNA event to work on selling that book, she attended a lecture that asked, “Why does everyone rewrite Pride and Prejudice so much more than her other novels? Why doesn’t anyone rewrite Persuasion?”

So she had to…

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The Red Pearl by Chloe Helton – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Chloe Helton will be awarding $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

“The Red Pearl is a delight. Meticulously researched, it transports the reader to the inns and backstreets of Boston in 1778. Lucy Finch’s personal tragedy spurs her on to take an active role in the revolutionary war, despite the immense danger it brings to herself, her family and friends. Ms. Helton’s characters are warm, living beings with gifts and flaws. Their relationships are altered — broken or strengthened — by the battles on distant fields and the evil of individuals closer to home.” – Carrie Bedford, Author of Nobilissima

There’s something peculiar about the small group of men who have begun to frequent The Red Pearl, the tavern that has hosted a variety of Boston’s men since before the Revolutionary War began. In a rebellious city that does not tolerate Loyalists, men could come here and speak freely without fear of the repercussions — and Jasper Finch, the tavern-keeper, has always been proud of that.

But now the war is in full force, and Lucy Finch — the tavern-keeper’s wife — is growing nervous about The Red Pearl’s most loyal customers. Their clandestine meetings and hushed whispers suggest dark secrets — secrets which may threaten the safety of Boston, and the future of the war itself.

Lucy struggles to stay loyal to her husband’s wishes while grappling with the surprising truths of America’s war for independence. When a terrible assault makes her ache for revenge, she must make a choice: Will she keep quiet about the explosive secrets she has learned, or will she expose them and risk her marriage and possibly her life?

Set in the wild and unpredictable world of the Revolutionary War, fans of historical fiction will fall in love with Lucy Finch, who faces impossible choices that may change the fate of a nation.

Enjoy an Excerpt

When I started to move, Jasper mumbled something. He wasn’t much of an early riser, but the sun was splashing through the windows now and we couldn’t let the guests wake before us. It had become my responsibility to make sure of that. “Up,” I urged, nudging his shoulder. “Imagine if Robby gets in the kitchen before we do.”

Now he blinked. Robby, our hired boy, was an honest worker, but he was useless without direct and clear orders. If he tried fiddling with the pots and pans without my direction, they’d all be broken before we even made it downstairs. “Didn’t we just fall asleep?” he groaned.

“Oh, enough. You’re terrible in the morning.”

“Come back down,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me. “Lay next to me just a minute longer.”

I couldn’t have resisted, really, even if I wanted to. He was too strong. I brushed a hand through his clipped black hair. There had been days when I yearned for another kind of man, shaggy blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, but although he crossed my mind every day, almost, he was now little more than a ghost swirling in the morning fog. I was here with Jasper, who was dark and quiet and excruciatingly clean-shaven. There was drink to brew and mouths to feed here and I wasn’t a girl anymore.

“Jasper,” I said. I hadn’t been planning to mention this, but he was the one who pulled me back down to bed. “Are you planning to let those Tory meetings go on long?”

“What d’you mean?” he mumbled, his eyes barely open. “If they pay for it, they can have their meetings. And you shouldn’t call them that.”

About the Author:

Chloe Helton is the author of four historical fiction novels, including And the Stars Wept and the Wattpad favorite A Thousand Eyes. Her readers have journeyed with her from the shores of Elizabethan England to the stormy battlefields of the Civil War in search of the often-hidden stories of women who made history.

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Starting and Starting Over in Room To Breathe by Liz Talley – Guest Post and Giveaway

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Liz Talley who is celebrating today’s release of Room to Breathe. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card and a digital copy of the book.

Starting and Starting Over in Room To Breathe

Room to Breathe is a story of two southern women at very different stages in their lives who are experiencing the same sense of “starting over.” Daphne Witt is weeks from turning forty, in a career that she never expected, and ready to start dating after a divorce. Her daughter Ellery is essentially untested in the world. Young, beautiful, accustomed to everything going her way, Ellery finds herself with a less than dazzling job, a distracted fiancé and, for the first time ever, doubts about who she is and where she’s going. When the novel begins, we find Daphne dealing with an awakened libido she thought long dead, and Ellery struggling to accept working for her mother and living with a fiancé who has little time for her. Both women redirect their dissatisfaction toward secret desires – Daphne for a much younger contractor, and Ellery for a secret email pal who thinks she’s her mother. Like the vines of a vineyard, things get tangled quickly by decisions that not only threaten the fragile mother-daughter relationship, but each woman’s future.

One thing I really like about Daphne is her self-awareness. She’s been content to stand in the wings while everyone else in her life commandeered the spotlight, but now she’s ready to take her turn on the stage. She’s bumbled into a dream she never knew existed as a children’s author, and she’s really good at what she does and becomes an overnight success. But her family, even her ex-husband, can’t seem to let go of the woman she once was. They want the old Daphne, the one who put everyone else before herself. I intentionally gave Daphne a secret crush on a younger man and had her pay attention to her sexuality. Women of a certain age are often set aside, as if their “sexiness” has a shelf life. I wanted Daphne awakened to the fact that as a woman entering her forties, she still needed intimacy and affection. I wanted her to struggle with the guilt, be tempted, and have a little fun with someone…young enough to date her daughter.

Ellery is the girl I once was. I remember being invincible, tossing my curls over my shoulder as I flounced around in my cheerleading skirt. The world was about me and what I wanted, what I thought I deserved. I wasn’t a bad person, but I do remember my brother once bringing my requested shoes on a throw pillow, bowing, and saying “your slippers, my lady.” I led a charmed life…until life punched me in the face. It has a tendency to do that in your mid-twenties when you find out (gasp!) the world doesn’t revolve around you. So I wanted to take a princess, toss her in the mud, and see what happened. Ellery isn’t always likable, but she’s authentic. And by the end of the book, she sees her mother as a person and not just her mother. Both Ellery and Daphne have a big growth arc in this book.

Room to Breathe has secrets, twists, bad decisions, surprises, and angst, yet it also has humor, heat, and heart tugs. I love the guys in the book – Clay (the hot contractor), Gage (Ellery’s surprise crush) and Evan (the vineyard owner), and I really like the interactions between Ellery and Daphne. I think readers will recognize themselves most in Daphne, but they’ll also remember how hard it is standing on one’s own two feet as Ellery must do. I’m proud of this book about letting go and taking the lemons that life hands you, tossing them, and pouring a glass of wine. Cheers to all the women who aren’t afraid to start over and create their own new paths!

For a good part of Daphne Witt’s life, she was a supportive wife and dutiful mother. Now that she’s divorced and her daughter, Ellery, is all grown up, Daphne’s celebrating the best part of her life, a successful career, and a flirtation with an attentive hunk fifteen years her junior . . . who happens to be her daughter’s ex-boyfriend.

Ellery is starting over, too. She’s fresh out of college. Her job prospects are dim. And to support her fiancé in med school, she’s returned home as her mother’s new assistant. Ellery never expected her own life plan to take such a detour. With no outlet for her frustration, she lets an online flirtation go a little too far, especially considering her pen pal thinks he’s corresponding with her mother.

As love lives tangle, secrets spill, and indiscretions are betrayed, mother and daughter will have a lot to learn—not only about the mistakes they’ve made but also about the men in their lives and the women they are each hoping to become.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“What are you trying to say?” Daphne asked. Ellery always tried to get her to go to exercise classes, but Daphne preferred running most days. Organized classes had never appealed to her. Exercise was her escape, a time she could jab in her earbuds and listen to podcasts or a book that didn’t feature poodles and tea parties.

“That you isolate yourself out here. Hanging out with Pop Pop and Tippy Lou isn’t exactly being social. You can make friends in these classes, plus use muscles you never knew you had.” Ellery rose and smoothed the T-shirt swing top she wore over a pair of ripped boyfriend jeans. Several strands of delicate gold chain were layered around her neck. Her daughter somehow managed to look stylish and trendy in sloppy clothes. Daphne always looked . . . well, sloppy in sloppy clothes.

“Maybe,” she conceded, only because her daughter was unfortunately correct. She enjoyed visiting her father and playing dominoes with his friends, even if they were out of her age range. And her neighbor Tippy Lou Carmichael, while delightfully droll and enigmatic to the point of oddness, wasn’t going to go shopping with her or out to drinks. Tippy Lou preferred herbal tea on her front porch while she watched the feral cats she fed every morning chase lizards and laze about in her garden.

Daphne had always been the type of person to have only a few close friends. Though she’d cultivated friendships with many of the other teachers at Saint Peter’s Day School, where she’d worked as a teacher’s aide for fifteen years before staying home to write, she’d never been good at being social. She had church friends, a book club, and knew a few local writers who wrote professionally, but her best friend, Karyn Little, had moved to Idaho with her new husband over a year ago.

In a few short years, she’d lost her husband to self-centeredness and her BFF to the land of potatoes.

“Not maybe. Definitely,” Ellery said, looking over at her.

“Maybe I’ll try it.” Going to the class with Ellery might help their relationship, something that Daphne couldn’t seem to get back on track. She didn’t know what was wrong, how she should act, whether she should have given Ellery a job or not. Daphne had only wanted to make things better for Ellery. That’s what every mother did, right?

But Ellery had grown more and more distant over the past few months. Daphne suspected that it had something to do with something Rex had said, but Ellery wouldn’t open up. Any time Daphne asked her what was bothering her or if she wanted to talk, her daughter would tell her everything was “fine.” She’d begun to hate that word.

“I’m pretty much done for the day. I have to mail these packages. These are a few of the winners from your online party.” Ellery picked up a bag full of colorful pink envelopes, walked out the door and right into Clay.

“Whoa, hey, Elle,” he said, grabbing her elbow and steadying her. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I saw you last week at Elmo’s,” Ellery said, shrugging off Clay’s hand. “But I guess you were too trashed to remember?”

“Hey, I was celebrating a new contract, but, yeah, I guess I had a few too many.”

“Honestly, Clay, it’s time you grew up,” Ellery said, pushing past him before spinning back. The Tom Ford scent she wore tickled Daphne’s nose.

“Guys never grow up, do we?” Clay joked.

“Some don’t.” Ellery gave him a flat look.

Her daughter had dated several guys in high school but had been tight-lipped when it came to information on what had happened between her and Clay. Daphne vaguely remembered a dustup with the head cheerleader for a rival school. Ellery had been only a sophomore, and Daphne remembered Clay being her daughter’s first heartbreak. Ellery had rebounded quickly with the quarterback for the Riverton Falcons. She had an uncanny ability to hook a new, even cuter guy after each successive breakup through high school and college.

Point in case—Josh was so pretty angels sang when he walked by.

Daphne still didn’t know her soon-to-be son-in-law very well because he was always studying, but he seemed to truly care about her daughter. And that was what mattered most.

“I’m out, y’all.” Ellery disappeared.

Clay turned his pretty blue eyes on Daphne. “Sorry to interrupt. I wanted to get your opinion on the marble. They sent two different samples in your color range. One has a lot of movement, the other is pretty simple.”

“Sure, I’ll take a look,” Daphne said, following him outside her office and into the heat of late morning.

Ellery tossed the bag of packages into the narrow back seat of her sleek new Lexus and gave them an absentminded wave.

“She’s a firecracker,” Clay said with a smile before jogging down the front porch steps. Today he wore a T-shirt. Thank God. The jeans fit him like a second skin, though. So now she had to contend with the butt thing.

Not only had she practically drooled over a shirtless Clay yesterday, but she’d actually rated the bag boy’s backside that morning at the grocery store. Thankfully Steve the bag boy was older than Clay, but she was now convinced her libido had written a memo titled “Take Care of Your Sexuality before You Mount the Bag Boy.” She wondered if something was wrong with her hormones. Or maybe she was ovulating. Something other than going middle-aged crazy.

Wait, was turning forty years old hitting middle age?

Nah. And technically she was still thirty-nine for the next two months.

About the Author:A finalist for both the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Golden Heart and RITA Awards, Liz Talley has found a home writing heartwarming contemporary romance. Her stories are set in the South, where the tea is sweet, the summers are hot, and the porches are welcoming. She lives in North Louisiana with her childhood sweetheart, two handsome children, three dogs, and a naughty kitty.

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The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae by Stephanie Butland – Spotlight

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Stephanie Butland who is celebrating today’s release of The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae.

For fans of Josie Silver’s One Day in December, The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae is a wholly original, charismatic, and uplifting novel that no reader will soon forget.

Ailsa Rae is learning how to live. She’s only a few months past the heart transplant that—just in time—saved her life. Now, finally, she can be a normal twenty-eight-year-old. She can climb a mountain. Dance. Wait in line all day for tickets to Wimbledon.

But first, she has to put one foot in front of the other. So far, things are as bloody complicated as ever. Her relationship with her mother is at a breaking point and she wants to find her father. Then there’s Lennox, whom Ailsa loved and lost. Will she ever find love again?

Her new heart is a bold heart. She just needs to learn to listen to it. From the hospital to her childhood home, on social media and IRL, Ailsa will embark on a journey about what it means to be, and feel, alive. How do we learn to be brave, to accept defeat, to dare to dream?

From Stephanie Butland, author of The Lost for Words Bookshop, The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae will warm you from the inside out.

Enjoy an Excerpt

It’s 3 a.m. here in cardio-thoracic.

All I can do for now is doze, and think, and doze again. My heart is getting weaker, my body bluer. People I haven’t seen for a while are starting to drop in. (Good to see you, Emily, Jacob, Christa. I’m looking forward to the Martinis.) We all pretend we’re not getting ready to say goodbye. It seems easiest. But my mother cries when she thinks I’m sleeping, so maybe here, now, is time to admit that I might really be on the way out.

I should be grateful. A baby born with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome a few years before I was would have died within days. I’ve had twenty-eight years and I’ve managed to do quite a lot of living in them. (Also, I’ve had WAY more operations than you everyday folk. I totally win on that.) OK, so I still live at home and I’ve never had a job and I’m blue around the edges because there’s never quite enough oxygen in my system. But –

Actually, but nothing. If you’re here tonight for the usual BlueHeart cheerfulness-in-the-teeth-of-disaster, you need to find another blogger.

My heart is failing. I imagine I can feel it floundering in my chest. Sometimes it’s as though I’m holding my breath, waiting to see if another beat will come. I’ve been in hospital for four months, almost non-stop, because it’s no longer tenable for me to be at home. I’m on a drip pumping electrolytes into my blood and I’ve an oxygen tube taped to my face. I’m constantly cared for by people who are trying to keep me well enough to receive a transplanted heart if one shows up. I monitor every flicker and echo of pain or tiredness in my body and try to work out if it means that things are getting worse. And yes, I’m alive, and yes, I could still be saved, but tonight it’s a struggle to think that being saved is possible. Or even likely. And I’m not sure I have the energy to keep waiting.

And I should be angrier, but there’s no room for anger (remember, my heart is a chamber smaller than yours) because, tonight, I’m scared.
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It’s only a question of time until I get too weak to survive a transplant, and then it’s a waste of a heart to give it to me. Someone a bit fitter, and who would get more use from it, will bump me from the top of the list and I’m into the Palliative Care Zone. (It’s not actually called that. And it’s a good, kind, caring place, but it’s not where I want to be. Maybe when I’m ninety-eight. To be honest, tonight, I’d take forty-eight. Anything but twenty-eight.)

I hope I feel more optimistic when the sun comes up. If it does. It’s Edinburgh. It’s October. The odds are about the same as me getting a new heart.

My mother doesn’t worry about odds. She says, ‘We only need the one heart. Just the one.’ She says it in a way that makes me think that when she leaves the ward she’s away to carve one out of some poor stranger’s body herself. And anyway, odds feel strange, because even if my survival chances are, say, 20 per cent, whatever happens to me will happen 100 per cent. As in, I could be 100 per cent dead this time next week.

Night night, BlueHeart xxx

P.S. I would really, really like for one of you to get yourself a couple of goldfish, or kittens, or puppies, or even horses, and call them Cardio and Thoracic. My preference would be for puppies. Because I love the thought that, if I don’t make it to Christmas, somewhere there will be someone walking in the winter countryside, letting their enthusiastic wee spaniels off the lead, and then howling ‘Cardio! Thoracic!’ as they disappear over the brow of a hill intent on catching some poor terrified sheep. That’s what I call a legacy.

From The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae by Stephanie Butland. Copyright © 2019 by the author and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.

About the Author:

Stephanie Butland
Author
Book launch, reading & signing at Nomad Books in Fulham Road, London, Great Britain
18th April 2018
Stephanie Butland launches her latest book
The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae at a reading and book signing event in London.
Photograph by Elliott Franks

STEPHANIE BUTLAND lives with her family near the sea in the North East of England. She writes in a studio at the bottom of her garden, and when she’s not writing, she trains people to think more creatively. For fun, she reads, knits, sews, bakes, and spins. She is an occasional performance poet and the author of The Lost for Words Bookshop.

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LASR Anniversary Scavenger Hunt: September’s Song by Ryan Jo Summers


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Ivey London was told her military husband died on a mission overseas. She buried him as a war hero and tried to move on with her life by raising their young son, dealing with her vengeful brother, and coping with her mother’s Alzheimer’s.

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LASR Anniversary Scavenger Hunt: Will Rise From Ashes by Jean M. Grant


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Young widow AJ Sinclair has persevered through much heartache. Has she met her match when the Yellowstone supervolcano erupts, leaving her separated from her youngest son and her brother?

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LASR Anniversary Scavenger Hunt: Blooming Justice by Peggy Chambers


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Erin Sampson always wanted to be an attorney like her aunt. But until she experiences a real taste of injustice, she has no idea what the legal field is all about. After being sexually harassed at the senior prom by a boy she went to school with, she finds out he has escalated from bullying to rape.

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