Thursday, 28 October 2021

I am exciting to be hosting the blog tour for The Book Boyfriend by Jeanna Louise Skinner #excerpt #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub

 

 

 

The Book Boyfriend

 

By Jeanna Louise Skinner

 

 

 

 

Let us find solace in the quiet…"

 

Emmeline always dreamed of being an author, finding comfort in words and between the pages of her beloved romance novels, but a mental health diagnosis leaves her blocked and unable to write. Then she inherits a crumbling, second-hand bookshop from a mysterious old friend and Emmy discovers that magic is real and maybe her fantasies about the heroes in her favourite historical romances aren't so far-fetched after all.

 

A handsome stranger–wielding a sword as dangerous as his Tudor past–appears in Emmy's bookshop asking for help. Together they must race against time itself to lift the curse imprisoning him in an ancient book. But when growing threats to her safety are proved real and not another symptom of her illness, Emmy must learn to trust her own voice again. Can she find the words to save Jonathan and her shop before tragedy strikes on the fateful final page? 

 

Romance-addict Emmy may be, but this damsel is about to kick distress into the Ever After.

 

 

Excerpt 

 

Em? Where do you want this one?”    

 

The voice came from the mass of black curls snaking from behind an enormous box.

 

Emmy ran the short space across the store to help her best friend, Lizzie, heave it on to the counter.     

 

“Thanks. What you got in there? A ton of books?”

 

“Funny.” Emmy swatted her on the upper arm. “Is that the last one?”    

 

“Yep, all done. And now I have my spare room back again… It looks great in here!” Lizzie scanned the store, grinning.    

 

Antique bookcases ran throughout the shop, along three walls and twisted around hidden corners. Maggie’s battered, oxblood leather armchair still took pride of place in the picture window, but now the green Gumtree sofa sat opposite, with a small, reclaimed pine coffee table in between. Daylight flooded through the sparkling glass and seeped into nooks and crannies. It had taken two weeks of shifting, lifting and cleaning, but thanks to Lizzie (and her spare room) and their mutual friend Dawn, the shop was finally ready for tomorrow’s reopening. The hard work was worth it. They’d salvaged everything they could, from the glitzy chandelier, splashing rainbow-filled sun arrows across the walls and the soft lamps dotted here and there, to the antique telephone in its original red box, which had once stood on the cobbled pavement outside like a sentinel before being rescued by a strident Maggie two decades earlier. Now a quirky reading nook, complete with book-laden shelves and cosy seat, it was Emmy’s favourite spot in the whole store. No longer dim and dingy, Adams' Antique Books was filled with warmth, light and wonder, and was – to Emmy’s mind at least – the perfect place to read and buy books.    

 

“Yeah, it does. Now all we need,” Emmy held up her hands to show her crossed fingers, “are customers…”     

 

“They’ll come, don’t worry.”    

 

“I do worry, but I’ve got to try.” Emmy caught a glimpse of herself in the cracked, gilded mirror behind the counter. Her face was a badly drawn caricature, distorted and gurning like her reflection in the funfair hall of mirrors she’d visited with her ex last year. She rearranged the frown etched on her gamine features into a smile, but there was nothing she could do about the haunted look in her dark eyes.     

 

“Maggie would be proud of you, Ems,” Lizzie said, meeting Emmy’s gaze in the mirror.    

 

“I hope so,” Emmy whispered.    

 

Lizzie rested her dark head against Emmy’s blonde one. This should have been a difficult feat, given their five-inch height difference, but Lizzie’s love of heels was legendary. Even her own mother had once joked that she should have been christened wearing Louboutins rather than baby booties. The disparity between the two best friends’ height wasn’t the only notable distinction in their appearances. Where Lizzie was brunette and pocket-sized petite, Emmy’s strawberry blonde waves topped the kind of body that fashion sites liked to market as “plus”. Emmy was nowhere near as reticent and preferred to think of herself simply as fat - and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that, thank you very much.

 

But loving her looks hadn’t always come easy. There was a time, yes in her teens. when Emmy would have given anything to not stand out in every class photo, to not tower head and shoulders over most people in a room. But learning to not only accept her body, but to also rejoice in her showstopping-from-every-angle knockout curves, was just one of the many wonderful life lessons Maggie Adams had imparted about being a young woman growing up in a patriarchal society. Of course, the medication she’d recently started taking had made Emmy bigger than ever, but that was a pattern she’d settled to with relative ease. These days, her greatest bugbear about her size was that those same websites didn’t seem to cater for her tallness as well as her fatness, and she often ended up wearing so-called men’s clothes. But this wasn’t such a sacrifice. Emmy was fat and - haunted expression aside - she looked just as fabulous as any other woman, including her tiny-proportioned bestie Lizzie, who she now flung one long arm around to squeeze closer.

 

I know so.” Lizzie affirmed. “Now, you know, I’m not into all these ‘Book Boyfriends’ like you, but if I was, this would be the first place I’d come to buy my smut. What could be more romantic?” She spun, arms flung out wide, like a euphoric Julie Andrews on a mountaintop.     

 

“It is not smut! Austen is not smut, the Brontës are not smut!” Emmy knew Lizzie was trying to distract her, but she couldn’t help reacting all the same.    

 

“Whatever, but you and I both know that even Maggie’s reluctance in the face of modernity gave way for more and more bodice rippers over the years. Even Breone agrees with me.” Lizzie nodded towards the ginger cat, who was attempting to curl his fat furry body onto a pile of vintage romance novels with limited success. Emmy sighed and grabbed the moggy before he could topple the stack and deposited him on the flagstone floor. The cat turned his squished face away in disgust and somehow slinked into a narrow gap between a bookcase and the wall, orange tail swishing in rebellion.    

 

“Romance novels can be super feminist, which you’d know if you’d read my dissertation, and as I’ve pointed out multiple times, bodice ripper is an outdated term that doesn’t help shift stock,” Emmy said, pouting as she turned back to Lizzie. “Plus, it sells, so maybe Maggie was on to something.”

 

“Let’s hope she was right.” Lizzie’s tone was a curious cocktail of doubt and delight as she picked up the book on the top of the pile. “Enchanted Paradise by Johanna Hailey,” she smirked, holding the book up for Emmy to see.

 

The cover was your standard 1980s romance novel affair: an impossibly beautiful heterosexual couple in a passionate clinch, the woman’s nudity barely covered by a whisper-thin diaphanous veil, the man - all torso and rippling back muscles gripping her bare flesh in his hands. What set this particular cover apart, however, was its inclusion of a male and female deer, a unicorn and a rainbow in the pastel toned, other-worldly background. And Emmy loved every inch of it! She snatched it from her best friend’s hand with an exasperated tut and set it back on top of the stack as if it were as precious as a first edition Austen.

 

“Don’t yuck someone else’s yum.”

 

“Whatevs,” Lizzie was unperturbed. She whipped her head to the door, dark curls bouncing.  “I think I’ve left something in the car. I’ll be back.” She tripped out of the shop before Emmy could respond.





 

The Book Boyfriend

 

by Jeanna Louise Skinner is 

 
avaliable to purchase at:

 

 

Amazon UK

 

Amazon US

 

Amazon AU

 

Amazon CA

 

 

 

Jeanna Louise Skinner 

 

 


Jeanna Louise Skinner writes romance with a sprinkling of magic. The Book Boyfriend is her debut novel and she is currently working on a prequel. She has ADHD and CRPS, a rare neuro-inflammatory disorder, and she is passionate about writing about people underrepresented in Romance, especially those with disabilities and chronic health conditions. Shes also the co-creator of UKRomChat, a much-lauded, Romance-centric live Twitter chat. She lives in Devon with her husband, their two children and a cat who sounds like a goat.

 

Website, Twitter, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram

 

 

 Thank you to The Coffee Pot Book Club for inviting me to be a part of this tour.

Follow the tour - HERE.
 

 
 
 

 

 

Wednesday, 27 October 2021

I am exciting to be hosting the blog tour for Empire’s Heir (Empire’s Legacy, Book VI) by Marian L Thorpe #HistoricalFantasy #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub

 

 Empire’s Heir

(Empire’s Legacy, Book VI)

By Marian L Thorpe

 


Some games are played for mortal stakes.

Gwenna, heir to Ésparias, is summoned by the Empress of Casil to compete for the hand of her son. Offered power and influence far beyond what her own small land can give her, Gwenna’s strategy seems clear – except she loves someone else.

Nineteen years earlier, the Empress outplayed Cillian in diplomacy and intrigue. Alone, his only living daughter has little chance to counter the Empress's experience and skill. Aging and torn by grief and worry, Cillian insists on accompanying Gwenna to Casil.

Risking a charge of treason, faced with a choice he does not want to make, Cillian must convince Gwenna her future is more important than his – while Gwenna plans her moves to keep her father safe. Both are playing a dangerous game. Which one will concede – or sacrifice?

 

 EXCERPT 

 

© 2021 Marian L Thorpe

 

In this passage, Cillian, one of the two narrators of Empire’s Heir, and his wife Lena are preparing for the journey to Casil, the capital city of the Eastern Empire. Their oldest daughter, Gwenna, has been summoned as a possible bride for the young prince.

 

“Cillian?” Lena stood in the open door of my library, sweaty and dishevelled. She had, I surmised, been out on the training field with Druisius. “Sorley said you were here. Can I come in?”

“You don’t need to ask, käresta.” She knew I was alone.

She took the chair across from me, glancing at the books lining one wall. “If you buy any more, you’ll need more shelves.”

I had already asked Roel to build them while we were away. I told her so. She smiled, a little distantly. “Will I even see you in Casil?” she asked. “Between Eudekia and the libraries?”

“I will be one of many minor princes escorting daughters.” I put down my pen to stretch my cramped fingers. “The Empress will not have time for me.” Not much time, I hoped silently. That she would request my presence at least once was certain. The last nineteen years would only have honed her considerable diplomatic skills. I doubted I could best—or even equal her—now.

“The less time she has for you, the more you have for the libraries.” Lena sounded resigned, but not upset. “I’ll have to be Gwenna’s chaperone most of the time.”

“We must both play roles we dislike,” I said. “For a few weeks.”

“I know.” She glanced down at the paper in front of me. “What are you writing?”

“A letter to Iorlath, asking her to send Colm’s belongings home. And a warning that he will likely not come back to her Ti’ach. I believe he will choose to remain at Wall’s End when we return.”

She nodded. “Probably. He’ll learn a different sort of medicine there.” She sounded detached, almost uninterested. Unmoored, I thought: no longer a mother of a small child, her other children grown, without even the routines of the Ti’ach to anchor her. Nor would she—or any of us—have either familiarity or definition to cushion our days for some long time, until we knew whether Gwenna would marry Alekos. I too felt this dislocation, this sense of a foundation shifting.

“I came,” Lena said, “to ask to borrow books for the voyage.”

“What would you like?”

“Which of Cotta’s do you have?”

“The Commentaries. They were Perras’s.”

“I remember us talking about them as we crossed the Durrains.” Twenty years past, around our evening campfires. Discussions of the Casilani general’s writings on history and tactics, so I could maintain distance between me and the young soldier who had been my partner in exile. What would you do, and why? I had asked her, a teacher’s question.

It hadn’t worked. Debating tactics, whether in long-past wars or in xache, which we had played with pebbles and a grid inked onto kidskin, had only made me more appreciative of Lena’s quick intelligence and surprising insight. But it was not until cold forced us to share a tent and our conversation had turned to more personal things did I allow her to lessen the distance. We’d talked about memories, and our favourite foods, and then she’d asked me the name of my first love.

‘I have never been in love,’ I’d answered. I had thought it true. Later, when she had taught me what love was, I understood I had not been honest. A fiction I maintained, at least by omission, although we—all three of us—knew the truth.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Travelling,” I said. “Leaving a life behind.”

“Would you? If you could now?”

I glanced around my library, toward the hidden bed behind the screen, the rows of books, the cat watching us with half-closed eyes from the windowsill. Then I looked at the woman who was both my greatest love and my greatest blessing. “Travel, yes. Leave this behind forever? Not by choice.”

“When does a refuge become a prison?” Lena murmured. She stood. “Where are the Commentaries?” I directed her to them. “Talyn told me to read them,” she added, as she turned to go.


 Empire’s Heir is avaliable to purchase on Amazon.


This book is also avaliable with #KindleUnlimited

 

Marian L Thorpe

 

 

Essays, poetry, short stories, peer-reviewed scientific papers, curriculum documents, technical guides, grant applications, press releases if it has words, its likely Marian L Thorpe has written it, somewhere along the line. But nothing has given her more satisfaction than her novels. Combining her love of landscape and history, set in a world reminiscent of Europe after the decline of Rome, her books arise from a lifetime of reading and walking and wondering what if?Pre-pandemic, Marian divided her time between Canada and the UK, and hopes she may again, but until then, she resides in a small, very bookish, city in Canada, with her husband Brian and Pye-Cat.

 

Website, Twitter, Facebook, US Amazon Author Page, UK Amazon Author Page, Goodreads 

 

Follow the tour - HERE!

 


 

 




 

 

 

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