Thursday, 21 July 2016

My Husband's Wife by Amanda Prowse


Once a week, Rosie Tipcott counts her blessings.

She goes to sit on her favourite bench on the north Devon cliffs, and thanks her lucky stars for her wonderful husband, her mischievous young daughters, and her neat little house by the sea. She vows to dedicate every waking hour to making her family happy. 

But then her husband unexpectedly leaves her for another woman and takes the children. Now she must ask the question: what is left in her life? Can Rosie find the strength to rebuild herself? More importantly, does she even want to?




I have only discovered author Amanda Prowse over the last year or so and yet as I am making my way through her back catalogue of books she fast becoming one of my favourite authors. Her latest release My Husband's Wife left me going off to bed heartbroken and it is the first book in a very long time that has touched my heart in such a powerful way.

After a troubled start in life Rosie now is very thankful for the perfect life she has with her two beautiful and comical little girls and her loving and supportive husband and they live in their lovely home by the sea, who could ask for more?

Rosie's picture perfect life comes shattering around her when unexpectedly one day her husband Phil tells her he is leaving her for another woman. Rosie is heartbroken for her and her daughters, the girls are her life and she is determined to keep them close and happy despite the upheaval that surrounds them.

My heart broke for Rosie we see her battle through such an emotional storm going from having her heart broken losing the love of her life, to feeling the gradual isolation from friends and family who have been such a big part of her life almost like she is the one being punished when she has done nothing wrong. But the part that really brought the tears to my eyes and the lump to my throat was watching her feel so powerless as much as she was desperate and determined to do right by her girls everything was falling from her fingers and because this actually happens so often in the real world I think this is what made it such emotional reading to think of parents go through the same situation.

Although this is a emotional read the two daughters Naomi and Leona bring a great sense of humour to the storyline which was welcoming and uplifting. Naomi was a real cheeky character who was full of life and is like an energiser bunny. You always knew when Naomi popped up in a chapter that there was going to be some kind of drama or funny questions.

The storyline was totally captivating and extremely moving which is helped by the authors beautiful and skilled writing style. This is a storyline that will always stay in my mind and my heart. This is currently a unbelievable price on kindle at only 99p! ( price at time of review)


Hardback                Kindle

Saturday, 16 July 2016

Alternative bookworm gifts

It can be very hard buying presents for keen bookworms,
I for one have had many books kindly brought for me that I have already read!
There of course is always the option of a book voucher but sometimes it is just nice to have something to unwrap.
I have found some lovely ideas for alternative gifts.


These Dreamday Pattern Journals are real gems. The two new styles are the Japanese and the Moroccan styles and both have beautiful intricate designs for you to colour in and the idea of incorporating a colouring in book with a notebook is genius.




I took the Japanese style book out with me to brainstorm and it made it a more bearable experience and when I was lost of what else to write I found myself colouring in the opposite page until something else came to me.
Both the cover and the inside pages are great quality and I can't wait to buy the other styles.

You can purchase these journals from Laurence King by clicking Here!





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The thing I am most looking forward to when my Husband and I finally get our own house 
is having my book shelves back! I have found my must have book ends and this will be my first purchase when we get our keys!


This pair of bookends are available from Waterstones here is the link to take you straight there https://www.waterstones.com/product/once-upon-a-time-and-the-end-bookends-black/2000004726492

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There is one website that is dedicated to us bookworms and they have so any wonderful quirky gifts from bookish jewellery to tote bags there really are too many things to list but be sure to take a look.


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Johanna Bashford introduced us to the world of adult colouring books which have now set a new craze but what I didn't know was that she also has a box of notecards in her Enchanted Forest design which contains 12 different notecards that you can colour in.
She also has a hardback Secret Garden Journal which has a sweet delicate design in the corner of each page for you to colour. This is one of those journals we all rush to buy and yet can not bring ourselves to write in them!

You can purchase both of these items by clicking HERE!

Thursday, 14 July 2016

Melody Bittersweet and The Girls' Ghostbusting Agency by Kitty French


Melody Bittersweet and The Girls' Ghostbusting Agency by Kitty French is out TODAY. We have a special extract for you to enjoy.....


 Chapter One 

‘So, what do you do with your spare time, Melody?’ 
I look my date square in his pretty brown eyes and lie to him. ‘Oh, you know. The usual.’ I shrug to convey how incredibly normal I am. ‘I read a lot . . . Go to the movies. That kind of thing.’  
I watch Lenny digest my words, and breathe a sigh of relief when his eyes brighten. 
‘Which genre?’ 
‘Movies or books?’ I ask, stalling for time because, in truth, I don’t get much in the way of spare time to do either. 
‘Movies. Action or romance? No, let me guess.’ He narrows his eyes and studies me intently. ‘You look like a sucker for a rom-com.’ 
‘Do I?’ I’m genuinely surprised. I’m five foot three and look more like Wednesday Addams than a Disney princess. Maybe Wednesday Addams is over-egging it, but you get the idea; I’m brunette and my dress sense errs on the side of edgy. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me and thought whimsy. Maybe Lenny sees something everyone else has missed, me included. I quite like that idea, mainly because everyone who knows my family has a head full of preconceptions about me, based on the fact that my family are all crackers. 
Four Weddings?’ He shrugs hopefully. 
I nod, not mentioning that the only part of that particular movie I enjoyed was the funeral. 
The Holiday?’ 
Again, I try to look interested and hold my tongue, because I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear that I’d rather stick needles in my eyes than ever watch an over-optimistic Kate Winslet drag some old guy around a swimming pool again. 
I’m relieved when the bill arrives and we can get out of there, because so far Lenny has turned out to be a pretty stellar guy and somehow I’ve managed to convince him that I walk on the right side of the tracks. Maybe this time, things will be different. 
Lenny pulls his dull, salesman’s saloon into the cobbled cartway beside my building and kills the engine. I don’t mind dull. In fact, my life could really use a bit of dull right now, so I shoot him my most seductive smile, cross my fingers that my mother will be in bed, and invite him in for coffee. 
Oh, just when it had all been going so well. Why couldn’t I have just given him a goodnight kiss, with maybe the smallest hint of tongue as a promise, then sent him on his way? He’d have called for a second date, I’m sure of it. 
But no. I got greedy, pulled him by the hand through the dark back door, placing my finger against my lips to signal he should be quiet as we tip-toed past my mother’s apartment and up the old wooden staircase to my place. 
He rests his hand on my waist as I turn the key, and a small thrill shoots down my back. Look at me, winning at this being-an-adult thing today! Dinner with an attractive man, sparkling conversation, and now back to mine for coffee . . . and maybe even a little fooling around. It’s not that I’m a virgin or anything, but it would be fair to call my love life patchy of late. By ‘of late’ I mean the last two years, ever since Leo Dark and I called things off. Well, by Leo and I, I mean Leo called things off, citing conflict of interests. Ha. Given that he was referring to the fact that my mad-as-a-bag-of-cats family are the only other psychics in town besides him, he was, at least in part, right.  
But enough of Leo and my lamentable love life. Right now, all I want is for Lenny not to know anything at all about my peculiar family, to keep seeing me as a cool, regular, completely normal girl, and then to kiss me. 
You remind me of Clara Oswald, Lenny whispers behind me at the top of the stairs. All big brown eyes and clever one-liners. Its very sexy. 
Lord, I think he’s just brushed a kiss against the back of my neck! My door sticks sometimes so I shoulder it open, aiming for firm and graceful but, I fear, ending up looking more like a burly police SWAT guy ramming it down. Thankfully, Lenny seems to take it in his stride and follows me into my apartment. Then I flick on the table lamp only to discover that my mother is standing on my coffee table in a too-short, too-sheer, baby-blue negligee with her arms raised towards the ceiling and her head thrown back.  
‘Shit!’ Lenny swears down my ear, clearly startled. He isn’t to blame. My mother’s a striking woman, ballerina-tall and slender with silver hair that falls in waves well beyond her shoulder blades. It isn’t grey. It’s been pure silver since the day she was born, and right now she looks as if she’s just been freshly crucified on my coffee table. 
I sigh as I drop my bag down by the lamp. So much for me being normal.  
‘Err, mother?’ 
Slowly, she takes several heaving breaths and opens her eyes, changing from crazy lady to almost normal human lady. She stares at us. 
‘For God’s sake, Melody,’ she grumbles, taking her hands from above her head and planting them on her hips. ‘I almost had the connection then. He’s hiding out in the loft, I’m sure of it.’ 
I risk a glance over my shoulder at Lenny, who sure isn’t kissing my neck anymore.  
He lifts his eyebrows at me, a silent ‘what the hell?’ and then looks away when my mother beckons to him like a siren luring a fisherman onto the rocks.  
‘Your hand, please, young man.’ 
‘No!’ I almost yell, but Lenny is already across the room with his hand out to help her down. My mother eyes me slyly as she steps from the table, keeping a firm hold of Lenny’s hand. 
‘Long lifeline,’ she murmurs, tracing her red talon across Lenny’s palm. 
‘Mother,’ I warn, but my somber, cautionary tone falls on her selectively deaf ears. I expected nothing else, because she’s pulled this trick before. Admittedly, the standing-on-the-table thing is a new twist, but she’s got form in scoping out my prospective boyfriends to make sure they’ll fit in with our screwball family from the outset. Not that her romantic gauge is something to put any stock in; Leo passed her tests with flying colours and look how that ended up. I got my heart broken and he got a spot on morning TV as the resident psychic. Where’s the justice in that?  
Look, we may as well get the clanky old skeleton out of the family closet early on here, people. It’s going to come out sooner or later, and despite my attempts to pull the wool over Lenny’s eyes, there’s never any running away from this thing for long. 
My name’s Melody Bittersweet, and I see dead people.  
It’s not only me. I’m just the latest in a long line of Bittersweets to have the gift, or the curse, depending on how you look at it. My family has long since celebrated our weirdness; hence the well-established presence of our family business, Blithe Spirits, on Chapelwick High Street. We’ve likely been here longer than the actual chapel at the far end of the street. That’s probably why, by and large, we’re accepted by the residents of the town, in a ‘they’re a bunch of eccentrics, but they’re our bunch of eccentrics,’ kind of way. What began as a tiny, mullion-windowed, one-room shop has spread out along the entire row over the last two hundred years; we now own a run of three terraced properties haphazardly knocked into one, big, rambling place that is both business and home to not only me, but also to my mother, Silvana, and her mother, Dicey. Gran’s name isn’t actually Dicey, it’s Paradise, officially, but she’s gone by Dicey ever since she met my Grandpa Duke on her fifteenth birthday and he wrote Dicey and Duke inside a chalk heart on the back wall of the building. He may as well have written it on her own racing heart. 
Silvana!’  
Speak of the devil. Does no one go to bed around here?  
I open my door to find Gran on the threshold with her hand raised, poised to knock. I guess I should be glad she’s slightly more respectably dressed, if a floor-length, purple shot-silk kimono, bearing huge technicolor dragons could be considered as such. Her usually pin-curled gold hair is piled elegantly on her head and she wears a slash of fire-engine-scarlet lipstick for good measure. Most people couldn’t carry the look off, but thanks to her poise, confidence and couldn’t-care-less attitude, Grandma Dicey wears it with artful success. She glides past me without invitation and gazes at my mother and Lenny, who are still hand-in-hand on the rug. 
God. 
First thing tomorrow morning, I swear, Im going to look for a new place to live, somewhere, anywhere, that is not in the same building as my mother and my gran. Dont get me wrong, its a charming old place and I love my family dearly. Its not even as if I dont have my own space here, because, theoretically at least, I do. Mum and Gran have the ground floor apartment behind Blithe Spirits, and I have the smaller flat upstairs, at the back. In lots of ways this makes me fortunate; I get to have a nice little home of my own and stay close to my family. It would all be fine and dandy, were it not for the fact that my family are officially bonkers and liable to come up and let themselves into my flat – using the spare key I gave them for dire emergencies only – and embarrass the shit out if me.  
 ‘Why is Silvana entertaining a man half her age in your flat?’ Gran looks from me to my mother. ‘You should have said you were expecting company, darling. I’d have gone out.’ She touches her hand lightly against her hair. ‘Put a towel on the doorknob or something, isn’t that the modern way to signal these things? Don’t come a knockin’ if the caravan’s rockin’?’ 
She looks spectacularly pleased with herself, and one glance at Lenny tells me that he knows he’s way out of his depth with these two and is in the process of writing me off as the worst date he’s ever had. His eyes slide from me to the door, and I can almost hear him begging me to let him go unharmed. 
He’s not mum’s datehe’s mine. Or else, he was,’ I mutter, and then I’m distracted as a beer-bellied pensioner in a soup-stained shirt slowly materialises through the ceiling, his flannel trousers not quite meeting his bony ankles. Stay with me; I see dead people, remember? As do my mother and my grandmother, who also watch him descend with matching expressions of distaste. 
‘Finally,’ my mother spits, dropping Lenny’s hand so she can round on the new arrival. ‘Two hours I’ve been chasing you around this bloody building. Your wife wants to know what you’ve done with the housekeeping she’d hidden in the green teapot. She says you better not have lost it on the horses or she’s had it with you.’ 
Grandma Dicey rolls her eyes. ‘I rather think she’s had it with him anyway. He’s been dead for six weeks.’ 
‘You’re a fine one to talk, given that you still sleep with your husband twenty years after he died.’ Mother flicks her silver hair sharply. Touché 
Lenny whimpers and bolts for my front door, turning back to me just long enough to splutter ‘something’s come up, gotta go,’ before he hoofs it out and down the stairs two at a time. 
I listen to the outside door bang on its hinges and wonder what came up. Probably his dinner. 

If you enjoyed this little teaser then go ahead and click the link below to buy your copy which today is only 99p on kindle! 



Price correct at time of post.

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