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Showing posts with label Whitney Dineen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Whitney Dineen. Show all posts

Friday, May 7, 2021

🌟 BOOK BLITZ 🌟 Text Wars by Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}




Text Wars by Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers

Release Date: May 13th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

May the text be with you…

Seraphina Lopez is not your typical airy-fairy astrology fanatic. First and foremost, she’s a businesswoman who happens to have a fascination with the stars. Her lifestyle app, “Live for Your Star Sign” is blowing up, and when she’s asked to be a guest on New York’s most watched Morning Show, she knows the exposure will launch her app into the stratosphere.

Astrophysicist Ben Williams just landed his dream job at NASA’s Goddard Institute, Not only is he heading a multi-disciplinary team in search of habitable exo-planets, he’s also been tapped to be the spokesman for the project. While he’d much rather be crunching the numbers to pinpoint the location of Earth II, he also has to sell the concept to the American public.

When Seraphina and Ben meet on the set of the Morning Show, sparks fly! Sera is there to show viewers how to dress for their star sign. Ben is there in the name of science. Their explosive chemistry sets records for the network’s viewing audience. As such they’re asked to host a regular segment–together.

Ben and Sera hate each other so much, they resort to texting instead of talking when they’re off air (and sometimes on). Yet somewhere in the haze of dislike, they start to realize they have more in common than they thought possible. Is love written in the stars or will it burn up on impact?

Find out in the Text Wars, the third installment of the deliciously funny and romantic Accidentally in Love Series.



{EXCERPT}

Ben 

Once I’m dragged off into the Green Room with all the gorgeous women, I sneak a peek at myself in one of the full-length mirrors propped against the wall. Who am I? And where is astrophysicist Ben Williams under all that hair gel and bronzer? This is going to be the single most humiliating experience of my life. Not only am I dressed like a banana for his first day of school, my manhood is on display like it’s about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. How is anyone going to take me seriously?

They won’t. That’s how.

Not to mention, everyone I know, including my co-workers, will be watching. NOOOO!!! I have to stop this. Panic starts to build inside of me until my chest cavity feels like it’s about to explode.

The bossy woman who made me take my underwear off loudly declares, “You all look great! This is going to be an amazing show!”

I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I don’t have time to ask because someone else comes in and says, “You’re on next. Follow me.”

I tug at these ridiculous pants in hopes they’ll magically grow three sizes and turn black. Or a nice brown, even. That would be good too. Although I don’t know if brown would go with this awful green vest.

Oh, for pity’s sake, Ben, it doesn’t matter! Your pants aren’t going to change color so forget it. Unless …what if I change into normal pants? Yes, that’s the answer. As we march down the hall and pass my dressing room, I decide I’m going to put on my own clothes no matter what anyone says. As I open the door to dressing room three, I hear Serafina demand, “Where are you going?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she takes my hand and leads me to the third spot in line. “There. You’re right behind our Taurus.”

Grinning broadly, she says, “Okay, everyone, you look fabulous. Just get out there and strut your fine selves.”

Strut my fine self? What in the world is she talking about?

“Listen, I-I think there’s been a mistake,” I call out to her.

“I know, the pants aren’t exactly the right fit, but you can really get away with it, trust me.” She boldly winks which causes me even more distress.

“No, not that …”

That Justin intern rushes over and says, “Ms. Lopez, you’re on!”

I try to get his attention, but he disappears, leaving me with no one to ask for help. I wait for what feels like forever, but I’m sure is only a couple of minutes, before Justin comes back and starts to lead us backstage. “When I point to you, walk onto the stage, turn left at the X, strut down the catwalk toward the studio audience. Pause for a count of two, then spin back around and go out the other way.”

He points to the woman in front of me. As she goes, I watch her carefully, trying to memorize what she’s doing. Okay, that doesn’t look so hard. It’s just walking, right? I can walk. Do they introduce all of their guests like this? My confusion equals my horror. I should have watched an episode of this show, so I knew what I was getting into.

When the woman turns back my way, she’s not smiling. Are we not supposed to smile? Do we pout? Yes, pouting seems right. How do you pout?

Turning to the woman behind me, I say, “Does this look right?” then I push my lips out and try to look like I’m really angry about something. Which is actually true because I’m going to lose it on Dev when I see him.

She wrinkles up her nose and answers, “You look like you’re trying to poop.”

Well, that was rude. I’m trying to learn. I give her a glare and she snaps her fingers. “Perfect! Now you’ve got some serious smolder going on.”

“Gemini Guy! Gemini Guy!” Justin whisper-yells.

I spin around, realizing he means me. He points to the stage wearing a completely disgusted look. As I walk by, I hear him say something about models with rocks for brains into his headset. Models? I’m not a model.

My heart is thumping like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of bears as I walk, trying to keep time with the music which is some airy-fairy crap that doesn’t even have a beat. That bossy Serafina person is sitting on a chair next to the show’s hosts talking … about me … it turns out.

“Geminis absolutely love to be the center of attention, almost to a fault. They’re known to be intelligent, passionate, fun, but also sometimes unreliable and are even called flighty.”

I keep walking toward center stage while I glare at her, causing me to miss the big X on the floor.

“As you can see, our model truly is a flighty Gemini. He just missed his mark.”

I hate this woman. I hate her with every cell of my being.

Hal lets out a laugh. “Other way, buddy!”

“Wow, those are some tight pants!” Lacey inserts. “I can see his center of attention!”

The audience laughs as I scramble to find the damn X. It’s actually quite large and is in bright green tape, so it’s pretty hard to miss. I stalk down the catwalk feeling like a piece of poorly-dressed meat. The audience—mainly older women—start to hoot and whistle and, I swear to God, one woman is waving a five-dollar bill at me.

How the hell did I end up here? I have my PhD. I work for NASA.

I head back toward the hosts while that awful Serafina woman talks about astrology. I’m so busy trying to make sure I land on the X this time I almost don’t hear Hal say, “Geminis really must be flighty because our other guest, Dr. Ben Williams, didn’t bother to show up for Star Day. I understand he’s a Gemini as well.”

I stop in my tracks and stare at him, sweat trickling down my back.

Hal looks at me while making a scooting gesture with his hands. “You can go now.”

Astrology girl gives me an urgent head nod toward the exit. Now is my only chance to fix what has gone terribly, terribly wrong. “I’m Ben Williams.”

All three of them stare at me like I’ve just said I’m from planet Zorbits. Lacey gives me a sympathetic look, as though she feels so bad for the male model who’s so dumb he doesn’t know his own name. “Um, no. Ben Williams is a rocket scientist. You’re a model.” She says this slowly like it’s the only way I’ll be able to understand her.

I wait while the audience has a good laugh at my expense while ignoring Justin and some other woman with a headset who are frantically waving at me. “I’m not a rocket scientist.”

Giving me a condescending look, Hal says, “We know you’re not, buddy. But you’re still special, okay? Now, off you go!”

The fashion show music stops, and the audience becomes so still you’d think they were waiting for me to perform a magic show. Off to the side, I see two security guards at the ready. I swallow hard, then keep going. “There’s no such thing as a rocket scientist,” I say. “What you’re thinking of is actually called an aeronautical engineer or an astronautical engineer. Rocket scientist is a dumbed down word for the job.”

“Wow,” Lacey says, blinking at me. “You know a lot about rocket science.”

I shut my eyes at her inane statement, then open them and say, “That’s because I’m an astrophysicist.”

The astrology “expert” (and I’m using that term lightly) seems to be the first one of the three geniuses to figure out who I am. “Wait, if you’re Dr. Williams, why are you masquerading as a male model?”


AUTHOR BIO:


Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017



Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally - then she'll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for 'K' Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn't require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she's not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken 'from above'. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something--more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International. 


{GIVEAWAY!}



Thanks for stopping by! 📚

Saturday, March 6, 2021

🌟 BOOK BLITZ 🌟 Text Me On Tuesday by Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}




Text Me On Tuesday by Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers

Release Date: March 5th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

All is fair in love and texting…

When Aimee Tompkins loaded up her old catering van and pulled into Manhattan, she had her sights set on becoming one of the best (and most lucrative) caterers to ever serve crudités and creampuffs in the Big Apple. But after a year of leaving fliers all over town, she’s not only running out of money, she’s running low on hope. So when she lands a gig at a big architecture firm, Aimee’s certain her luck is about to change.

Noel Fitzwilliam is pitching the most important project of his life—the type architects dream of. Everything has to go right, so when he finds the new caterer naked in his office bathroom right before the meeting, he’s torn between thrilled and extremely irritated. He doesn’t have time for romance, no matter how incredible she looks without her clothes on.

A mix-up means Aimee is accidentally given his cell number instead of his assistant’s. So when she starts texting Noel about how much she hates him, he decides to have a little fun with her. The last thing he expects is for her to turn his world upside-down. But that’s exactly what happens as the pair start sharing their deepest secrets and their greatest fears, and Noel discovers he can share so much more over the phone than he can in person. But what will happen when she finds out who he really is?

It’s a case of opposites attract, even when they repel…



{EXCERPT}

Walking through the clear glass doors of Fitzwilliam and Associates is very impressive. Sleek furniture primarily in black leather and chrome adorn the lobby and the walls are painted a grey so light it almost looks silver. The paintings on the walls are modern splashes of color that probably cost more than I make in a year, not that that’s much.

I look out the window at the Brooklyn Bridge and am momentarily paralyzed as a wall of amazement hits me. This is the big time, Aimée, don’t screw it up.

A tall brunette in a pencil skirt so tight it looks painted on, pulls me out of my trance by asking, “Who smells?”

I’m about to covertly sniff my armpit, when she clarifies, “Who dared to where perfume today?”

Byron looks at her, and says, “Cindy, that’s my bad. I forgot to tell Aimée here that WL Senior is severely allergic to scents.” Turning to me, he says, “Do you have anything else you can wear? After we get you washed up that is.”

“I...I don’t,” I stutter, horrified to have made such a bad first impression. I always used to keep extra clothes in my catering van upstate, but I haven’t exactly had a run on business since I’ve been here.

“Oh, for God sakes,” Cindy sneers. “I have an extra pair of slacks in my office if you can find her a shirt.”

I’m pretty sure Cindy is at least six inches taller than I am and probably two sizes smaller. I’m guessing I couldn’t decompose to her size until I’d been dead for a year. There is no way I can wear her pants.

“Go get them,” Byron tells her. “Meet me in the boss’s office. She can shower in there.”

I’m suddenly whisked away to some inner sanctum while leaving Teisha in charge of the food. I could die of mortification.

“Mr. Fitzwilliam will be out for the next hour, so you can use his private bathroom to see to things.” He waves his hand in front of me like he’s either casting a spell or trying to read my aura. Then he hurries out of the room.

The office is so elegant and so unlike the lobby, I take a minute to walk around and look at the bookshelf and the desk. I even sit on a loveseat across from the desk for about thirty seconds. Everything looks antique and awfully expensive. I’m half tempted to lay down and roll on the Oriental rug to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

I cannot imagine being this important. I only hope the short bald man—because the boss is always short and bald for some reason—who calls this office his own, appreciates how good he has it.

When I open the door to the bathroom, I let out an audible gasp. The shower is as big as my entire bathroom and it looks out onto the East River. Getting naked in here is going to make me feel like I’m on display for the world to see.

I hurriedly pick up my phone and text Teisha.

Me: Are you okay?

Teisha: I’ve got everything under control. Don’t worry about a thing.

Me: Are you wearing any perfume?

Teisha: Nope.

Me: Okay, I’ll be out as soon as I can. You would not believe the office I’m in!

Teisha: Pretty flashy, huh?

Me: You could say that.

I slowly start to take my clothes off while hoping that Byron finds a fat woman’s pants for me to put on. Once I’m in the shower, I scrub myself as quickly as I can. The soap is an old-fashioned bar of Ivory and I run it all over my body before giving myself a good rinse.

I’m about to step out of the shower when I hear. “For the love of God, Byron, leave me alone. I’m in a hurry.”

The voice is right outside the bathroom door! Holy crap, did I lock the door? I step out of the shower in hopes of making sure no one can get in. As soon as my wet foot hits the shiny marble floor I slip and slide across the room like I’m starring in Frozen on Ice. Let it Go!!!

As luck would have it, that’s the exact moment the door opens, and I fall into the arms of the most devastatingly handsome man it has ever been my pleasure to lay eyes on— thick dark hair that looks like not even one strand would dare to stray from where he wants it, moss-green eyes with flecks of gold and coffee-colored rims, and—oh, wow—a chiseled manly man jawline peppered with two-day stubble. I gawk up at him with sheer disbelief. I’m so blinded by his gorgeousness; I’m temporarily rendered mute.

With his arms around me, he calls over his shoulder, “Byron, you left one of your desperate strays in my en suite.”

Two things. One, his British accent is so dreamy, it almost makes me want to swoon even though he just tossed out one of the worst insults anyone has thrown my way. And two, he smells so damn good, I want to rub myself all over his neck. Then of course there’s the other thing. I’m naked.

AUTHOR BIO:


Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017



Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally - then she'll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for 'K' Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn't require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she's not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken 'from above'. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something--more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International. 


{GIVEAWAY!}



Thanks for stopping by! 📚

Saturday, June 20, 2020

🌟 BOOK BLITZ 🌟 The Dream by Whitney Dineen {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}




The Dream by Whitney Dineen

Release Date: May 22nd 2020 by 33 Partner Publishing
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Ashley has loved the same boy since high school. She knew Davis Frothingham was special even before he championed her at her senior prom. She also knew he was completely out of her league.

Years later, her attraction for him is still there, but Davis? He doesn’t even remember her.

When Ashley is tasked with being the nurse for Davis’ terminally ill grandmother, she’s thrown back into his world. More than anything, she wants him to remember her, but that recollection could come at a price of its own.

Can Ashley accept that she’s good enough for Davis? And can Davis learn to love a girl from the wrong side of the tracks?

Find out in this delightfully fun romcom about love and life in Creek Water, Missouri!




{EXCERPT}

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

I don’t meet his eyes. “No.”

“Why not?” he wants to know.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I retaliate.

“I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Point taken,” he concedes.

We’re sitting and staring at each other when Davis puts his hand on mine. He clears his throat in preparation to speak. A wave of anticipation washes over me, and I subconsciously hold my breath like I’m deep sea diving without an oxygen tank.

He’s probably not going to say, “Ashley, I’ve known who you were since the moment I saw you in the nursing home. I’ve secretly loved you since high school and wanted more than anything to tell you the depth of my feelings ever since, but I was afraid you’d turn me down.”

I’m fully aware I’m having some kind of mental break here, so you’re just gonna have to bear with me. I’m pretty sure he isn’t going to declare, “You’re the woman of my dreams and I long to hold you in my arms until the end of time.”

Chances are he won’t conclude this imaginary monologue by picking me up and carrying me out of the restaurant so he can take me to his house and ravish me. But the bottom line is that we’ll never know because just as he opens his mouth, a voice behind me says, “Davis Frothingham? My heavens, how long has it been? You look positively wonderful!”

Davis’s eyes move upward as he sees my unwelcome ghost from adolescence past. “Jessica. I didn’t know you were back in town. Are you visiting for long?”

“No, sir.” I can hear the interest in her tone as clear as day. “I just moved back to Creek Water. I thought for sure Beau would have told you.”

If Beau is involved, that probably means she’s buying a house, which would mean she’s not planning anything temporary. Crap. Why the heck is everyone coming back?

“Welcome home,” he tells her. Then he motions toward me. “This is …”

But before he can say my name, she looks at me and declares, “Oh hey, it’s you, from the bathroom!” She’s as excited as if I were a long-lost sorority sister.

“Hey,” I somehow manage while my throat constricts in terror. The Jessica Holt I know from high school would full on poop a brick if she knew she was being nice to FelAshleyO MoanRow. The good news is that Davis never said my name, and Jessica is so self-absorbed she doesn’t seem to care who I am.

The waitress comes over and delivers several plates including the filet, a lobster tail, and a caesar salad. As delicious as everything looks, I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat a bite of it.

“Do y’all work together or something?” Jessica asks once our food is situated. How insulting. She should assume we’re on a date considering our close physical proximity—side-by-side, not across from each other— but the thought doesn’t appear to occur to her.

I let Davis answer the question. “I work alone, carving furniture,” he says, not offering any other explanation.

“That’s right,” Jessica declares. “I have a couple of clients I’d like to send your way. Maybe I can stop by your workshop sometime this week.”

“Sure,” Davis replies. “I’m on the first floor of the Creeky Button Factory. Just ring the bell and I’ll let you in.”

“I can’t wait,” she enthuses. Then much less excitedly, she adds, “I guess I’d better get going. We just finished dinner and my folks are waiting in the car.” She lingers as though Davis might invite her to join us and perhaps even offer to take her home afterward.

I can’t let that happen, so I boldly put my hand on Davis’s arm and announce, “Don’t let us keep you. Have a good night.”

Davis’s mouth turns up at the corners into a lopsided smile like he’s trying to keep from laughing out loud. Then he tells his ex-girlfriend, “It was nice seeing you, Jessica. Have a good night.”

Jessica does not look happy. I want to take out my phone and snap a picture of her, so I can enjoy her expression at my leisure. Being that wouldn’t paint me in the best light, I don’t do it. But oh, boy, if I did, I’d print a hundred copies and hang them all over my trailer. 

AUTHOR BIO:


Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017


{GIVEAWAY!}



Thanks for stopping by! 📚

Saturday, November 2, 2019

🌟BOOK BLITZ:🌟 The Event by Whitney Dineen {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}




The Event by Whitney Dineen

Release Date: November 1st 2019
Pages: 313
Genres: Adult, Contemporary

There’s a reason Emmeline Frothingham left her hometown of Creek Water, Missouri as soon as humanly possible. That reason is small-minded, judgmental people who wouldn’t know the truth if it was coughed up on them like an errant furball.

After graduating from college, Emmie gets her dream job in New York City. As the head buyer at Silver Spoons--a high-end boutique, and single girl about town, her  life is ideal. That is, until the night of The Event, her company’s annual award's ball at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Nerves plus too much tequila leave Emmie dealing with a wicked hangover, the unemployment line, and a surprise to end all surprises.

Facing the repercussions of her wild night, Emmie is forced to go home to work in her family's business. But her return puts her dead in the sights of the gossipy country club harpies who drove her away in the first place.

Will Emmie make peace with her past and embrace the love of her family? Will she discover that the man who seems to be judging her most has a secret of his own? Find out in this deliciously fun romantic comedy, sure to put a smile on your face!



{EXCERPT}

In my esteemed, but obviously biased opinion, Creek Water, Missouri, population 14,012, is the armpit of the world. Scratch that, it’s a ripe pustulant boil on the butt of the Northern Hemisphere. If it weren’t my hometown, and I weren’t desperate for employment, I’d have never considered moving back. Ever.

I just got off the phone with my Uncle Jed—the Beverly Hillbillies reference is not lost on me—and he’s offered to make me manager of a new commercial venture he and my other uncle Jesse (yes, like Full House) are starting up in the old warehouse district. The revitalization of Creek Water continues as my former peers have discovered that it’s cheaper to live at home and not go out into the real world like I did. Problem is, I got myself into a tiny bit of trouble in the real world.

I was driven in my formative years to prove that I could make something of myself without any backing from the illustrious Frothingham family, of which I am one. I was sick to death of people thinking everything was handed to me on a silver platter just because of my last name. So, I worked hard to get excellent grades in school, and I earned myself a scholarship to college. After graduation, I moved to New York City, determined to leave my small-town, small-minded roots behind. Things were going great too, until The Event.

I worked as head buyer for Silver Spoons Enterprises in Manhattan, an exclusive gourmet/kitchenware boutique chain on the Eastern Seaboard. I was stationed at our flagship location on East Seventy-Third Street.

The Event was the corporate dinner dance at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where all the bigwigs gathered to pat each other on the back and recognize top-performing employees. I thought I was a shoo-in for the Demitasse Award, honoring the most creative contribution to the company during that fiscal year. I was personally responsible for the whole “Linens for Dinner” campaign, which promoted the idea that both urban and suburban millennials only use cloth napkins to dine, thus not only cutting back our carbon footprint by lessening paper waste, but also adding a touch of elegance to our lives. We sold more linens that year than in the previous ten years combined. It was that successful.

So there I sat in my way too expensive dress—I splurged because I knew how important it was to make a good impression on the executives and because it was the perfect little number to accept my honor in—when Jameson Diamante announced the nominees for the Demitasse.

There were only three of us—me with my linen campaign, Juliet Smithers from the Southampton store for her “Drink More Wine!” crusade, and Allison Conrad from Atlanta for her “Pretty Please, Y’all” call to reinstate formal invitations on engraved card stock.

Why don’t we just kill the planet, Allison, with all the trees we’re going to murder for your cause?

I was poised on the edge of my seat ready to throw my hands across my heart and gasp something along the lines of, “What? Me? My word, I’m so surprised!” I’d imagined how I’d get up and show off my six-hundred-dollar understated elegance to the whole room.

Jameson announced, “This year’s decision was not an easy one to make, with all three ladies greatly contributing to our brand, but in the end, we chose the contender who was responsible for the most innovative campaign.”

Here’s where the chain of events gets a wee bit cloudy. I could have sworn he’d called my name, so I stood up as planned, but my good friend and table-mate Lexi says that isn’t what happened at all. Apparently, old Jameson had called out Allison’s name, and she and I both went up to accept the award. How deforesting the planet is innovative, I do not know. I did hear through the corporate grapevine that Allison had gone to Jameson’s hotel room with him before the ceremony like a Kardashian auditioning her new sugar daddy. But I digress. Back to The Event.

I grabbed the silver spoon out my fellow nominee’s hand and proceeded to give my speech. All of it. Which for some reason I was allowed to do. It was a beautiful speech. I thanked my mother for her graciousness and manners, and I thanked my grandmother for teaching me how to fold dinner napkins into swans. I was about to thank Silver Spoons for having the wisdom to hire me, when Allison grabbed the Demitasse out of my hand. I may have chosen that moment to snatch it back and hit her over the head with it—obviously not very hard as she never pressed assault charges, thank God.

It’s all conjecture really. All I can say for certain is that I hastily fled the ceremony, trotting down all eight hundred thousand stairs of the Met in four-inch heels, in a cloud of disgrace and disappointment. I took a cab to a nearby bar, where I proceeded to drink my body weight in tequila before waking up in an unknown apartment in Brooklyn.



AUTHOR BIO:


Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017


{GIVEAWAY!}



Thanks for stopping by! ;)

Friday, September 20, 2019

🌟BOOK BLITZ:🌟 Relatively Happy by Whitney Dineen {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}




Relatively Happy by Whitney Dineen

Release Date: September 18th 2019
Pages: 256
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

*Award-Winning Series!

Sarah Hastings' life is chaotic. Between running her organic farm, her yurt-style holistic B&B, and her vegan café Eat Me!, she barely has time for an aura cleanse. What's more, her spirit guide just announced the universe is sending her a man.

Suddenly, a sexy pro-football player, a hipster photojournalist, and fellow organic farmer practically fall from the sky onto her doorstep. But which one is her cosmic soulmate?

While Sarah meditates on the answer, her parents show up unexpectedly throwing the mother of all monkey wrenches into her carefully laid plans.

With only morning yoga and her erotic book club to keep her sane, no wonder she's chucked her vegan diet in search of bacon. Will the stars of love align, or will the universe let her down in the biggest way possible?

Relatively Happy is a laugh-out-loud, cry-your-heart-out tale that will have you believing in the beauty of life's journey.



{EXCERPT}

Rix mostly disappears for the next few days. When we do see him, it’s only in passing. Nan told me he’s been eating his meals in town, probably devouring all kinds of hideously toxic food. The more I think about his duplicity, the madder I get. Imagine him staying here while simultaneously setting into motion a plan that will ruin my life.

This morning when I walked by his car, I was overcome by the urge to slash his tires. The only thing that saved him was that Tony was with me and I wasn’t in possession of a sharp enough object to do the job properly. Although I’m pretty sure I could have gnawed my way through them if I’d been alone.

Tony has been shadowing me and learning everything there is to know about my farm. We’ve had some amazing conversations about Native American art, the healing properties of cilantro, and the best time of year to experience Machu Picchu. He’s interested in a lot of the same things I am, and it’s made the time we've spent together fly by. It’s also making me more and more convinced of how compatible we are.

So far, he’s had a sweat lodge and a mud roll. He’s currently enjoying a hot stone meditation. He’s on the slate pad that I’ve heated with boiling water. Before having him lie down on it, I misted the stone with a combination of lavender and tea tree oils, then I placed Moldavite crystals on his chakras to raise the energy in his body.

I believe I’ve previously mentioned Tony’s attractiveness, but let me say, without his shirt on, he looks like a gladiator—all golden and chiseled and buff. I stared at him for a solid ten minutes after he closed his eyes to start his meditation. Tingles shot through me, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. After returning to the cafe yurt, I may have needed two tall glasses of mint water to cool off afterward.

I’m kneading bread dough and trying to remember every contour of his smokin’ hot bod when Emily pops in. “Nan and Dorcas are here. They want to chat.” Her aura is bright yellow, which is the color for happy. Emily is positively thriving on her vegan diet.

“They want to chat with you or me?” I have so much to do today I don’t really have time to sit and talk.

“They asked me to get you,” she answers.

I slam the dough down on the counter a few more times before covering with a cloth while I ask, “Do you have any idea what they want to talk about?”

She smiles. “I do.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“I’m not.”

“For heaven’s sake, what’s up with all the secretiveness?”

“They asked me to get you and not say anything about why they’re here.”

I have no idea in this world what they could want. When we head out to the porch, I realize they aren’t alone. Ethan is sitting on a rocking chair next to a very good-looking man about my age.

The stranger has wavy blond hair and strikingly blue eyes. When he stands, he positively towers over me. He’s built like a linebacker. He steps forward and reaches out his hand, “Hi there, I’m John Abernathy.”

Abernathy? John, Johnny … it’s all coming together, “Dorcas’s grandson?”

“That’s me.” He beams like he’s got halogen headlights illuminating his teeth.

I turn to the minister’s wife. “You didn’t mention your grandson was visiting.”

Dorcas looks moderately contrite. “I told you about him the other day.”

That she did. What she didn’t mention is that he’s one fine looking bacon farmer. I turn to John and ask, “Are you in town for long?”


AUTHOR BIO:


Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.
Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.
She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.
Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.
Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.
Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.
Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.
Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017
Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017


{GIVEAWAY!}



Thanks for stopping by! :)