Archive for June 1, 2022

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Happy publication day to Kate Anslinger!

Check out her new book Chasing Ghosts (A Grace McKenna Mystery Novel)!

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Chasing Ghosts (A Grace McKenna Mystery Novel)

Publication Date: June 1st, 2022

Genre: Mystery/ Thriller

What would you do if you could see haunting images in a criminal’s eyes?

Detective Grace McKenna’s mother has always told her that she has a gift.

When she looks into a criminal’s eyes she can see haunting images of victims who have been wronged.

One of those visions is the face of Jenny Silva, a high school art teacher who has gone missing from the small town of Bridgeton, Massachusetts, where Grace works.

When she makes eye contact with the possible suspect, Jenny’s tortured face flashes before Grace, leaving an unsettling imprint on her.

Grace finds herself making tough decisions to solve a case on her own, where she stumbles across town secrets and gets mixed up in an unlikely love affair.

Sometimes a wrong can find a way to be righted all on its own!

Will Grace be able to solve this case on her own?

A set of beady blue eyes overpowering the face of a teenage girl tore Grace from the present moment. The girl’s mouth was contorted into an angry frown emphasized by black lipstick that matched her shoulder-length straight black hair. The skin on her chin and right cheek was dotted in bumps and covered in varying shades of red as if she had tried to cover up teenage acne. Her neck and collar bone area were covered in blue and red blotches that looked like fingerprints pressed into her skin. A black winter hat with a white bat was pulled down to her eyebrows, enhancing the eyeliner that dipped in smudges beneath her eyes. The dead ends of her hair sprouted out the bottom of the hat and hit the collar of a black and white flannel shirt. Her face, filled with fright, transformed into an Edvard Munch Scream print upon an orange and red wavy background.

A new instinct kicked in and without thought, Grace’s hand went straight to her stomach, holding it like she was protecting a glass snow globe from falling to the floor and shattering. And as soon as she recognized how she had executed a mama bear’s intuition naturally and without a second thought, it dawned on her just how challenging motherhood would be. The baby that was rapidly growing in her womb would always come between her and the victims.

If Charlotte noticed alarm on Grace’s face, she didn’t show it. Instead, she smiled and tilted her head to the side, introducing the woman next to her. “Amy, this is Grace, we met by the bathroom. And we just happen to be a couple weeks apart in our pregnancies.”

A marked pause interrupted the space between them before Amy spoke. With a shifty gaze, Amy’s eyes rose from Grace’s shoes all the way up to her hairline. “It’s nice to meet you, Grace.” Her words ended in a hiss as she dropped a pair of crossed hands on a set of crossed legs decorated in pressed khaki pants. A pale blue cashmere sweater held tight to her perky breasts and was offset by a crisp white collar that peeked out the top like bird wings. Her posture was awkwardly erect, as if she was one of those mannequins strategically placed in department stores, free of any natural slump.

Naturally, Grace was inquisitive about the connection between the two women. Amy looked too young to be Charlotte’s mother, but too old to be a supportive friend accompanying her to her appointment. An older sister? A cousin? Whoever Amy was, Grace was now aware that the woman was responsible for the harm of the teenage girl who showed herself in the vision. Just as the conspicuous silence following the introduction was about to get awkward, a nurse emerged from the hallway and called out a name. Grace turned to see an older woman in the pale pink scrub uniform, haircut and highlighted in a style that was popular in the mid-nineties, when Jennifer Aniston set the example with long, face-framing layers. The nurse scanned the room, and with some force behind her voice she tried again. “Charlotte Anderson.”

“Well, that’s me.” Charlotte started to push herself up off the chair, until Amy hopped up and reached an arm across her back, guiding her to an upright position until she was face to face with Grace.

“Easy there, Charlotte. Precious cargo.” Grace stepped out of the way as Amy guided Charlotte to the nurse, like a mother ushering her toddler. As the connected duo passed by, Grace recognized the embarrassment that had come to the surface on Charlotte’s face.

“I’ll see you around and if I don’t, good luck with your pregnancy.” Charlotte swiveled her head, locking eyes with Grace as Amy continued to shepherd her down the hall, keeping the two of them at a snail’s pace.

“You too.” Grace waved a hand, committing Amy’s silhouette to memory.

Available on Amazon

About the Author

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Kate Anslinger is the author of the McKenna Mystery novels, a series that follows Detective Grace McKenna on her spree of secretly solving crimes with the help of her gift to see clues in the eyes of criminals. In addition to her life as a novelist, Kate is a ghostwriter, editor, freelance writer and a veteran of the United States Air Force. Her debut novel Saving Jason, touches upon the struggles of PTSD, a topic that is near and dear to her heart. Kate lives on the North Shore of Boston with her husband, two daughters, and Newfoundland pup.

Kate Anslinger | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

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The Boardwalk Bookshop : A Novel 

Susan Mallery

On Sale Date: May 31, 2022

9780778386087

Trade Paperback

$16.99 USD

 

ABOUT THE BOOK:

With her unique brand of witty, emotional storytelling, Susan Mallery’s latest is a heartfelt tale of friendship between three women brought together by chance who open a bookshop together on the boardwalk of the California beaches and ultimately become one another’s family. Fans of Elin Hilderbrand, Robyn Carr and Susan Wiggs will love The Boardwalk Bookshop!

 

Brought together by chance, Bree, Mikki, and Ashley become fast friends and open up a beachfront bookshop together, bringing together their three different businesses. To celebrate, each Friday at sunset they pop open champagne on the beach and enjoy the sunset together. Little did they know that that chance meeting and this simple ritual would make them one another’s family.

 

Bree owns the bookshop. Funny that she can’t stand authors. They’re far too demanding. But when NYT bestselling author Harding Burton, the memoirist who wrote about being paralyzed as a teenager and how he fought his way back, comes in, Bree never expected to actually like him. But anything beyond casual sex is out of the question for her. She trusts no one—a brutal first marriage and a painful childhood taught her well. Still as much as she wants to walk away, she can’t quite do it…

 

Ashley, Harding’s brother, owns the muffin shop and she has her own problems. She’s been happily in love with her boyfriend, Seth, for eight years. He’s thoughtful, supportive, kind, generous…but he hasn’t proposed and, she can’t hold it in any longer. When he announces that marriage isn’t for him, she’s shocked. And as much as she wishes this was enough, the truth is that she wants to be married. But what now?

 

And Mikki, the gift shop owner, is getting a second chance. She married her high school sweetheart, but three kids and completely different interests made them drift apart until they divorced a few years ago. They’re still close for the kids, but when someone new enters her life, he makes her feel appreciated and alive. Suddenly Mikki’s ex is making her dinner and asking her advice and Mikki must choose between the man she loved and let go of—and a chance for a brand new beginning.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Chapter One

“I thought there’d be more sex.”

Bree Larton stared at her seventy-something-year-old customer, not sure how to respond. Bursting out laughing would be inappropriate and Ruth would take offense. “You need to tell me what you want so I can get you the right book,” Bree said with a gentle smile. “You wanted a political thriller. Most of them aren’t sexy.”

Ruth, barely five feet tall but feisty as a badger, pursed her lips. “Not true. James Bond has sex all the time and he spends his day saving the world. I want a book like that. Ticking bombs, financial collapse, kidnappings and then everyone jumps into bed.” She winked. “That would be a good book.”

“I can do a sexy thriller. Maybe international?” Bree started walking toward that section of the bookstore. “A couple of options come to mind. Now, on the sexy part—do you want monogamy or can the partners play around?”

Ruth’s eyes brightened. “I’d like them to play around, but nothing too kinky. And no groups. That’s just too hard to keep track of.”

Bree held in a chuckle. “All right. We’ll limit the body parts, add a little European flair.” She held out a book with a hunky guy on the cover. “If you like this one, the author has five more stories waiting for you.”

Ruth, an unnaturally yellow blonde wearing cherry-red lipstick, clutched the book to her narrow chest. “I’ll take it.”

Bree suggested several additional authors. Ruth browsed for a few more minutes, then carried a stack of books to the register.

“I think I would have been a good sidekick for James Bond.” Ruth passed over her credit card. “Back in the day, I was quite the looker.”

“You still are,” Bree told her.

Ruth waved away the comment. “I’m too old for espionage, but I wouldn’t say no to dinner with a charming man.” Her smile turned sly. “I’ll just have to keep living vicariously through you.”

“Sadly, I’m lacking a man these days.”

Ruth leaned close. “What I admire about you, Bree, is that you’re not holding out for love. You go after what you want. When I was your age, that wasn’t an option. Not in polite society anyway. I was born in the wrong time.”

Bree honest to God had no idea what to say. “I guess we have to work with what we have.” She tucked a flyer into the shopping bag. “Harding Burton is signing here in a couple of weeks.”

Ruth looked at the poster next to the counter. Her bright red lips curved into a smile. “He’s a good-looking man.”

Bree mentally shrugged. “I suppose.”

“You don’t think he’s exceptionally handsome? Those eyes, that smile. Isn’t he the one who was hit by a car and left for dead on the side of the road when he was just a teenager?” Ruth clucked her tongue. “So tragic. But he pulled through and walked again and now look at him.” Her gaze darted to Bree. “You should have your way with him and then tell me all about it.”

Bree held in a wince. “First, I’d never tell you about it and second, I don’t date authors.”

Between her late husband and her parents, she knew enough about the type to want to avoid them forever. At least on a personal basis. Work-wise, she was stuck. What with owning a bookstore and all.

“Harding seems exception-worthy,” Ruth told her. “He might have some interesting scars you could trace and—”

Bree held up her hands in the shape of a T. “Stop right there. If you’re interested in Harding’s scars, go for him. How could he resist you?”

“I’m old enough to be his mother.”

Grandmother, Bree mentally corrected, but kept silent. She had a soft spot for the ever-outspoken Ruth.

“Maybe he’s into older women,” she said instead.

“Wouldn’t that be nice.”

Ruth was still laughing when Bree walked her out of the store. Anson, Ruth’s driver, was waiting in the no-parking fire lane. Anson helped Ruth into the Mercedes. Bree stayed outside until the car drove away.

Early evening on the beach in Los Angeles was nearly always magical but in June, if the skies cleared, it was the stuff of dreams. Warm air, palm trees, sand and surf. Honestly, she shouldn’t admit to having any real problems in her life. Even Ruth’s impossible book requests were insignificant when compared with the view outside the front door of her store.

Until six months ago, Driftaway Books had been located about two miles north and a good three blocks inland from the actual beach. Last fall, when the current space had come up on the market, Bree had stopped in to drool and dream. But beachfront came at a premium, and the square footage had been nearly double what she’d needed.

In one of those rare moments when fate stepped in and offered an unexpected opportunity, that very day two other women business owners had also been swooning over the same retail space. They’d agreed it was an unbelievable location, right there on the sand, but it had also been too big and expensive for each of them.

Impulsively, Bree had suggested they go get coffee together. Over the next hour they’d discussed the possibility of sharing the lease. Bree generally didn’t trust people until she got to know them, but there had been something about Mikki and Ashley that had made her want to take a chance. By the end of the week Driftaway Books, The Gift Shop and Muffins to the Max had signed a ten-year lease and hired a contractor to remodel. Bree had changed the name of Driftaway Books to The Boardwalk Bookshop, the final step in fully claiming the business as her own. The first Monday after the holidays, they’d moved in together.

Bree looked at the long, low building. Huge display windows were shaded by blue-and-white-striped awnings. The large glass doors could slide completely open, blurring the line between retail and sand. She and Mikki, the gift-store owner, had their stores on either side, with Ashley’s muffin selection taking up the middle space.

Big, bright displays showcased books, gifts and muffins, grouped together in seasonal themes. An array of beach books, sunscreen, flip-flops and wide-brimmed hats enticed tourists who had shown up to the beach unprepared.

Bree headed back inside, aware of the approaching sunset. She collected blankets and champagne glasses, then paused to straighten the poster announcing a book signing by Jairus Sterenberg, author of the popular Brad the Dragon children’s books. Jairus lived in next-door Mischief Bay and was always a pleasure at signings. He was one of the few authors Bree liked. He arrived early, stayed late and asked only for a desk and a glass of water. The man even brought his own pens.

At the other end of the spectrum was a not-to-be-named famous mystery author who was a total nightmare. Demanding, slightly drunk and very handsy, he’d patted her butt one too many times at his last signing and had been banned from the store. Despite pleas from his publicist and a written apology from the author himself, Bree had stood firm. She owned The Boardwalk Bookshop and she made the rules. No literary books, no existential anything and no guys touching women without their permission. Not exactly earth-shattering, but she could only control her little corner of the world.

Mikki saw her and smiled.

“Once again, we’re waiting for Ashley. Have you noticed that?”

“Young people today,” Bree teased.

Mikki, a generally upbeat kind of person, with thick blond hair and more curves than Bree and Ashley combined, laughed. “I like that. I’m only ten years older than her, so if she’s young, then I’m less old than I thought. Maybe I won’t mind turning forty this fall.”

“You’re not seriously worried about it, are you?”

Mikki wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. Sometimes. Maybe. Forty sounds a lot worse than thirty-something.”

“Forty is the new twenty-five.”

Mikki’s humor returned. “If I’m twenty-five, then Ashley’s barely eleven. That could create some legal issues with our lease.” She waved the bottle of champagne she held. “Come on. This needs our attention. When Ashley’s done texting love notes to Seth, she knows where to find us.”

They left the store and walked out onto the sand. With the approach of sunset, the temperature had cooled and the Friday crowd had cleared. The sky had started to darken, while the part that kissed the ocean still glowed bright blue with a hint of yellow.

To their left were a grove of palm trees, a handful of kiosks and a boardwalk that went all the way to Redondo Beach. To the right were more shops and restaurants, benches, parking and hotels. In front of them was the Pacific Ocean. Big, blue and tonight, unexpectedly calm.

They stopped about thirty feet from the shore and sat on the blankets. Mikki held up the champagne.

“Perrier-Jouët Blason Rosé,” she said proudly. “Ladies Know Wine gave it 93 points and said it had ‘delicious hints of sweet earthiness that complement fruit flavors including strawberry and peach with a hint of spice in this perfectly balanced rosé champagne.’”

Bree grinned. “I don’t know which is more impressive. That you’re branching out from traditional champagne or that you can quote a Ladies Know Wine review that well.”

“I love Ladies Know Wine. I savor every issue. If Ladies Know Wine were a man, I would make him fall in love with me. Then we’d have sex.”

“Earl would be crushed.”

Mikki unwrapped the pink foil and tucked it into her khaki pants pocket. “Earl would need to get over it.” She held up the bottle. “Look at the shape of that. It’s beautiful. And the label. Kudos to the design team.”

She held the cork in her left hand and used her right to grip the bottom of the bottle. Instead of pulling on the cork, as often happened in movies, she rotated the bottle several turns until the bottle and cork separated without a hint of a pop.

Last fall the three of them had signed the lease late on a Friday. They’d been so excited, they’d driven out to their new location. The sunny, warm day had promised a beautiful sunset. Bree happened to have a bottle of champagne in her car and had suggested they share it to celebrate their new venture. The following Friday they’d done the same and a tradition had been born.

The first time Bree had opened a bottle of champagne with her business associates, she’d popped the cork and the frothy liquid had spilled over. Mikki’s expression of horror had been so clear as to be comical.

“You’re letting out all the bubbles,” she’d explained. “It changes the essence of the champagne and ruins the experience.”

Ruins is kind of strong,” Ashley had pointed out. “It’s still really good champagne. Better than what I usually have. Of course most of my champagne drinking is done at weddings where they’re buying for two hundred, so price is a concern.”

“Champagne needs to be treated with reverence,” Mikki had told her. “Don’t drink bad champagne.”

From then on they’d alternated providing the Friday night sunset champagne. Ashley always ran her selection past Mikki, but Bree took her chances by picking it herself.

Mikki poured them each a glass, then put the bottle into the sand, pushing down a little to keep it upright.

“To us,” she said, touching her glass to Bree’s. “And to perfect sunsets.”

Bree smiled and then took a sip. She closed her eyes as she let the bubbly liquid sit on her tongue for a second before swallowing. Mikki was going to ask her how she liked it, and saying it was fine was never an option.

“Delicious,” she said, holding in her smile. “I taste a lot of berry with a hint of citrus. It’s surprisingly creamy.”

Mikki looked at her with approval. “That’s what I get, too. It’s really drinkable. I like it.”

“Noooo! You started without me!”

The shriek came from behind them. Neither of them turned around. Instead, Bree held out the third glass and Mikki filled it. Ashley, a tall, slim redhead with big blue eyes and a full mouth, plopped down next to Mikki. Her lips formed a pout.

“You didn’t wait,” she accused. “You’re supposed to wait.”

“You’re supposed to be on time,” Mikki reminded her. “Every Friday you text with Seth and run late. You agreed either you show up on time or we’re starting without you.”

Ashley ducked her head. “I thought the pressure would help. Instead, I just feel guilty.”

Mikki sipped her champagne. “I’m sure your chronic tardiness has to do with your mother.”

Ashley laughed. “My mom can take your mom anytime.”

Mikki grinned. “I don’t know. Rita would bring her Eeyore self to the party and then talk about how everyone’s good time depressed her.”

“I can see that happening,” Ashley admitted. “Then I’ll toast to both our mothers. And Seth, who is amazing. I in no way feel guilty about texting with him. He loves me and I love him.”

Bree held in a groan. “Yes, we know. It’s all so wonderful.”

Mikki bumped shoulders with Ashley. “She’s jealous.”

“No, no.” Bree held up her glass. “You are welcome to your cooing and clucking relationship.”

“We don’t cluck. What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea,” Mikki admitted. “Bree?”

“It’s just an expression.”

Clucking is an expression?”

Bree chuckled, then glanced out at the sinking sun. Light reflected on the moving water. A family walked along, close to the waves. An older boy ran ahead, while the parents held hands with a younger child.

They looked happy, she thought, studying them the way she would an unfamiliar species. No doubt the mom and dad loved their children, took care of them. Mikki did that, too, with her two kids. And Ashley’s parents were wonderful. But not all parents were good.

Mikki refilled their glasses. “Ashley, a lot of customers are talking about your brother’s book signing. When are we going to meet him?”

“Monday,” Ashley said. “He’s moving into his new place.”

Harding, Ashley’s brother, after several months on the road for book signings and research, had returned to Los Angeles. He’d leased a house and was supposedly hard at work on book number three. In the meantime, he would be signing at The Boardwalk Bookshop where he would, no doubt, pull in a crowd.

Authors, Bree thought with a silent sigh. An annoying but necessary species. Customers liked book signings, so she had authors come in.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Mikki said. “Such an interesting story. Bree, are you excited about the signing?”

“More than words can say.”

Mikki studied her. “That’s sarcasm, right?”

Bree laughed. “Yes. That’s sarcasm.”

“How can you own a bookstore, love books and hate writers?”

“I don’t hate them. I just don’t want them in my life.”

“You’re so weird.” Mikki turned to Ashley. “Help me out here. Tell her how weird she is.”

Instead of joining in the teasing, Ashley dropped her gaze. “Yes, well, we should talk about Harding. Or more specifically, him and you.”

Bree shifted back so she could angle toward Ashley. “I’ve never met the guy.” Which meant there shouldn’t be a problem. Unless…

 

Excerpted from The Boardwalk Bookshop by Susan Mallery, Copyright © 2022 by Susan Mallery Inc. Published by MIRA Books. 

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About Author Susan Mallery:

SUSAN MALLERY is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of novels about the relationships that define women’s lives—family, friendship and romance. Library Journal says, “Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations,” and readers seem to agree—forty million copies of her books have been sold worldwide. Her warm, humorous stories make the world a happier place to live.

 

Susan grew up in California and now lives in Seattle with her husband. She’s passionate about animal welfare, especially that of the two Ragdoll cats and adorable poodle who think of her as Mom.

 

SOCIAL LINKS: Twitter / Facebook / Instagram / Website

 

BUY LINKS: Bookshop / Amazon / B&N / Books-A-Million / Kindle / Nook

Google Play / Apple / Kobo / Walmart / Target

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.