THE BOOKSHOP ON THE CORNER By Jenny Colgan

coverTHE BOOKSHOP ON THE CORNER

By Jenny Colgan

William Morrow Paperbacks

September 20, 2016

ISBN: 9780062467256; $14.99

E-ISBN 9780062467263; $9.99

Provided by publisher for my honest review

About the Book

 

Nina Redmond is a literary matchmaker. Pairing a reader with that perfect book is her passion… and also her job. Or at least it was. Until yesterday, she was a librarian in the hectic city. But now the job she loved is no more.

Determined to make a new life for herself, Nina moves to a sleepy village many miles away. There she buys a van and transforms it into a bookmobile—a mobile bookshop that she drives from neighborhood to neighborhood, changing one life after another with the power of storytelling.

From helping her grumpy landlord deliver a lamb, to sharing picnics with a charming train conductor who serenades her with poetry, Nina discovers there’s plenty of adventure, magic, and soul in a place that’s beginning to feel like home… a place where she just might be able to write her own happy ending.

 My Review

I was not quite sure what I was going to think of this book.  The cover was cute and the blurb caught my attention.  I mean what book lover wouldn’t love a book about a bookshop.  I am happy to say that I loved this story once it got moving.  The beginning was a little slow for me personally however once it picked up I didn’t want to put it down.  This is so much more than a story about a bookshop.  It is about the loss of a much loved job, relationships of all kinds build and changing through time and just figuring out how to live life.  The cast of character is great and well developed.  I really enjoyed the layers of this story and encourage everyone check this story out.

Purchase Here:

THE BOOKSHOP ON THE CORNER – https://www.harpercollins.com/9780062467263/the-bookshop-on-the-corner

 

About the Author

Jenny Colgan is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous novels, includingLittle Beach Street Bakery, Christmas at Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop, and Christmas at the Cupcake Café, all international bestsellers. Jenny is married with three children and lives in London and Scotland.

 

Connect with Jenny Colgan

Website – http://www.jennycolgan.com/

Twitter – https://twitter.com/jennycolgan

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/jennycolganbooks

 

 

Praise for Jenny Colgan and THE BOOKSHOP ON THE CORNER:

 

“Losing myself in Jenny Colgan’s beautiful pages is the most delicious, comforting, satisfying treat I have had in ages.”

— Jane Green, New York Times bestselling author of Summer Secrets

 

“With a keen eye for the cinematic, Colgan (Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery, 2016, etc.) is a deft mistress of romantic comedy; Nina’s story is laced with clever dialogue and scenes set like jewels, just begging to be filmed. A charming, bracingly fresh happily-ever-after tale…”

Kirkus

 

“This is a lovely novel with amazing characters who are hooked on books… at least some of them. The plot is believable and is a joy to read. The main female character, Nina, is the librarian who always figures out the best choice for a patron without fail. Jenny Colgan thinks outside the box and creates a memorable book.”

RT Book Reviews

 

“This charming tale celebrates the many ways books bring people together”

Booklist

 

“This light, fresh romantic comedy is the perfect escape for bibliophiles. Enjoy it with a cup of tea on a crisp day.”

Real Simple

 

“[A] love story about reading and the joys books can bring to people’s lives.”

All About Romance

 

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Excerpt from THE BOOKSHOP ON THE CORNER:

 

The problem with good things that happen is that very often they disguise themselves as awful things. It would be lovely, wouldn’t it, whenever you’re going through something difficult, if someone could just tap you on the shoulder and say, “Don’t worry, it’s completely worth it. It seems like absolutely horrible crap now, but I promise it will all come good in the end,” and you could say, “Thank you, Fairy Godmother.” You might also say, “Will I also lose that seven pounds?” and they would say, “But of course, my child!”

That would be useful, but it isn’t how it is, which is why we sometimes plow on too long with things that aren’t making us happy, or give up too quickly on something that might yet work itself out, and it is often difficult to tell precisely which is which.

A life lived forward can be a really irritating thing. So Nina thought, at any rate. Nina Redmond, twenty-nine, was telling herself not to cry in public. If you have ever tried giving yourself a good talking-to, you’ll know it doesn’t work terribly well. She was at work, for goodness’ sake. You weren’t meant to cry at work.

She wondered if anyone else ever did. Then she wondered if maybe everyone did, even Cathy Neeson, with her stiff too-blond hair, and her thin mouth and her spreadsheets, who was right at this moment standing in a corner, watching the room with folded arms and a grim expression, after delivering to the small team Nina was a member of a speech filled with jargon about how there were cutbacks all over, and Birmingham couldn’t afford to maintain all its libraries, and how austerity was something they just had to get used to.

Nina reckoned probably not. Some people just didn’t have a tear in them.

(What Nina didn’t know was that Cathy Neeson cried on the way to work, on the way home from work—after eight o’clock most nights—every time she laid someone off, every time she was asked to shave another few percent off an already skeleton budget, every time she was ordered to produce some new quality relevant paperwork, and every time her boss dumped a load of administrative work on her at four o’clock on a Friday afternoon on his way to a skiing vacation, of which he took many.

Eventually she ditched the entire thing and went and worked in a National Trust gift shop for a fifth of the salary and half the hours and none of the tears. But this story is not about Cathy Neeson.)

It was just, Nina thought, trying to squash down the lump in her throat . . . it was just that they had been such a little library.

Children’s story time Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Early closing Wednesday afternoon. A shabby old-fashioned building with tatty linoleum floors. A little musty sometimes, it was true. The big dripping radiators could take a while to get going of a morning and then would become instantly too warm, with a bit of a fug, particularly off old Charlie Evans, who came in to keep warm and read the Morning Star cover to cover, very slowly. She wondered where the Charlie Evanses of the world would go now.

Cathy Neeson had explained that they were going to compress the library services into the center of town, where they would become a “hub,” with a “multimedia experience zone” and a coffee shop and an “intersensory experience,” whatever that was, even though town was at least two bus trips too far for most of their elderly or strollered-up clientele.

Their lovely, tatty, old pitched-roof premises were being sold off to become executive apartments that would be well beyond the reach of a librarian’s salary. And Nina Redmond, twenty-nine, bookworm, with her long tangle of auburn hair, her pale skin with freckles dotted here and there, and a shyness that made her blush—or want to burst into tears—at the most inopportune moments, was, she got the feeling, going to be thrown out into the cold winds of a world that was getting a lot of unemployed librarians on the market at the same time.

“So,” Cathy Neeson had concluded, “you can pretty much get started on packing up the ‘books’ right away.”

She said “books” like it was a word she found distasteful in her shiny new vision of Mediatech Services. All those grubby, awkward books.

 

 

Nina dragged herself into the back room with a heavy heart and a slight redness around her eyes. Fortunately, everyone else looked more or less the same way. Old Rita O’Leary, who should probably have retired about a decade ago but was so kind to their clientele that everyone overlooked the fact that she couldn’t see the numbers on the Dewey Decimal System anymore and filed more or less at random, had burst into floods, and Nina had been able to cover up her own sadness comforting her.

“You know who else did this?” hissed her colleague Griffin through his straggly beard as she made her way through. Griffin was casting a wary look at Cathy Neeson, still out in the main area as he spoke. “The Nazis. They packed up all the books and threw them onto bonfires.”

“They’re not throwing them onto bonfires!” said Nina. “They’re not actually Nazis.”

“That’s what everyone thinks. Then before you know it, you’ve got Nazis.”

With breathtaking speed, there’d been a sale, of sorts, with most of their clientele leafing through old familiar favorites in the ten pence box and leaving the shinier, newer stock behind.

Now, as the days went on, they were meant to be packing up the rest of the books to ship them to the central library, but Griffin’s normally sullen face was looking even darker than usual. He had a long, unpleasantly scrawny beard, and a scornful attitude toward people who didn’t read the books he liked. As the only books he liked were obscure 1950s out-of-print stories about frustrated young men who drank too much in Fitzrovia, that gave him a lot of time to hone his attitude. He was still talking about book burners.

“They won’t get burned! They’ll go to the big place in town.”

Nina couldn’t bring herself to even say Mediatech.

Griffin snorted. “Have you seen the plans? Coffee, computers, DVDs, plants, admin offices, and people doing cost–benefit analysis and harassing the unemployed—sorry, running ‘mindfulness workshops.’ There isn’t room for a book in the whole damn place.” He gestured at the dozens of boxes. “This will be landfill. They’ll use it to make roads.”

“They won’t!”

“They will! That’s what they do with dead books, didn’t you know? Turn them into underlay for roads. So great big cars can roll over the top of centuries of thought and ideas and scholarship, metaphorically stamping a love of learning into the dust with their stupid big tires and blustering Top Gear idiots killing

the planet.”

“You’re not in the best of moods this morning, are you, Griffin?”

“Could you two hurry it along a bit over there?” said Cathy Neeson, bustling in, sounding anxious. They only had the budget for the collection trucks for one afternoon; if they didn’t manage to load everything up in time, she’d be in serious trouble.

“Yes, Commandant Über-Führer,” said Griffin under his breath as she bustled out again, her blond bob still rigid. “God, that woman is so evil it’s unbelievable.”

But Nina wasn’t listening. She was looking instead in despair at the thousands of volumes around her, so hopeful with their beautiful covers and optimistic blurbs. To condemn any of them to waste disposal seemed heartbreaking: these were books! To Nina it was like closing down an animal shelter. And there was no way they were going to get it all done today, no matter what Cathy Neeson thought.

Which was how, six hours later, when Nina’s Mini Metro pulled up in front of the front door of her tiny shared house, it was completely and utterly stuffed with volumes.

 

A CHRISTMAS BRIDE by Hope Ramsay

acb-blitz-bannerramsay_achristmasbride_mmA CHRISTMAS BRIDE 

ABOUT THE BOOK

 

Title: A CHRISTMAS BRIDE

Author: Hope Ramsay

Series: Chapel of Love, #1

On Sale: September 27, 2016

Publisher: Forever

Mass Market: $7.99 USD

eBook:  $7.99 USD

Add to Goodreads

A brand new contemporary romance series from USA Today bestselling author Hope Ramsay centered on a small-town wedding chapel!

A season of hope…’Tis the season in Shenandoah Falls and the first time Willow Peterson has been home in years. But she’s determined to fulfill the wishes of her recently deceased best friend and restore Eagle Hill Manor to its former glory—all in time to host the perfect holiday wedding. She just has to get the owner of the historic inn to hire her. Unfortunately, that means dealing with Scrooge himself…

After the death of his wife, David Lyndon has a bah-humbug approach to Christmas. But as December counts down and the wedding planning is in full swing, it’s harder and harder to stay immune to the charms of Willow, especially when he sees how much joy she brings his eight-year-old daughter. After a simple kiss under the mistletoe turns into something more, David is hoping he can turn the magic of the holiday season into the love of a lifetime.

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My Review

I was so excited to check this story out and boy did I have the right idea.  I loved everything about this story.  While I am not quite ready for the Christmas Season this book is coming out at the perfect time to help get you in the mood for Christmas, I mean who doesn’t like a feel good love story during the holidays.  Now I am not saying that it is all good, there is a lot of pain and healing in the story.  Hope Ramsey does a great job with not just the primary story but all of the subplots.  Willow’s back story and how she is trying to put her life back together.  David and his daughter’s loss and difficulty in moving forward from the tragic death of Shelly, Willow’s best friend.  And then there are both of their job situations and how they can possibly make things work before them.  I think that my favorite part of this entire story is the reboot of the inn.  Overall, I highly recommend this story.

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Top 5 places to visit in your home state

Virginia is for Lovers!  And it also happens to be the setting for A Christmas Bride

And since Virginia is right across the Potomac River from the Nation’s Capital there are so many things to see here.  How can I limit myself to just five?  Here are some good ones, in no particular order:

  1. Mount Vernon – George Washington’s Home on the Potomac
  2. Monticello – Thomas Jefferson’s Home in Charlottesville. While you’re there you should visit the campus of the University of Virginia to see the serpentine walls designed by Jefferson himself.
  3. Arlington Cemetery, and not far away you’ll find the Pentagon September 11 memorial and the Lee-Custis mansion.
  4. Shenandoah National Park – especially in the fall when the leaves turn. The Skyline Drive is one of the country’s most scenic drives.
  5. Udvar-Hazy Center – National Air and Space Museum Annex at Dulles Airport. You can see a real live Space Shuttle at this museum, not to mention spy planes, and other vintage aircraft.
  6. My home town of Alexandria, Virginia (where the PBS show Mercy Street is set). Old Town Alexandria has fun shopping, great dining, and tons of history.  Take the ghost tour after dark, or eat dinner at Gadsby’s Tavern where Washington frequently dined.
  7. Williamsburg, Virginia. Visit a restore 18th Century town and immerse yourself in pre-revolutionary history.
  8. Virginia Beach. One of the best beaches on the east coast.

I could go on, but I’ve already listed more than five places.

BUY THE BOOK HERE

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chapel-of-love-series

THE CHAPEL OF LOVE SERIES

A Fairytale Bride, #.5

A Christmas Bride, #1

A Small Town Bride, #2

Series Page on Goodreads

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hope Ramsay is a USA Today bestselling author of heartwarming contemporary romances.  Her books have won critical acclaim and publishing awards. She is hope-ramsay-credit-wbfbd86married to a good ol’ Georgia boy who resembles every single one of her Southern heroes. She has two grown children and a couple of demanding lap cats. She lives in Virginia where, when she’s not writing, she’s knitting or playing her forty-year-old Martin guitar.

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Lucky Blow by Amanda Washington

   

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Excerpt:

 

MY DAY STARTED upside down. No joke, I was harnessed, suspended midair, with my feet up and head down, looking over a room full of priceless artifacts when the antique grandfather clock beside the door struck midnight. Dings and dongs thundered, reminding me I was running out of time. As much as I’d like to pretend my days didn’t normally begin in an upside-down race against the clock, I’m not a liar, just a thief. But hey, a girl’s gotta make a living somehow, and this was what I was created to do—there’s a contract and everything—but that’s a story for a time when my life isn’t literally hanging from the ceiling.

As I released another inch of rope and lowered myself further, the black cocktail dress I’d hastily tucked into the knife sheaths around my thighs tumbled free, covering my upper body in chiffon and revealing my panties to the vacant room. I sighed. This was exactly why I hated dresses. But since I couldn’t magically make my normal work pants and T-shirt appear, I ignored my wardrobe malfunction and focused on my objective.

My target rested two feet, five inches below my head, locked away in an engraved metal display box chained to a pedestal, which was bolted to the wooden floor and surrounded by trip wires. Red lasers sliced the air between me and the box, rotating randomly. Randomly…that’s what the alarm company’s brochure says.

I smirked. Human security…so quaint.

Everything has a pattern if you’re patient enough to find it, and I was so patient, my new harness dug craters into my shoulders while I memorized the cycle. Random, my ass. As my opening approached, I bent at the waist and let out a foot more rope. The lasers shifted. I spit a small key out of my mouth and sprang back down, sliding it into the lock. I technically didn’t need the key, but picking the lock could potentially take longer than I had between laser cycles.

Besides, the owner of this building was a sleazeball who’d been too busy “accidentally” bumping into his party guests to notice my hand sliding into his pocket. A little piece of me felt like I was doing a solid for women everywhere by ripping the jerk off.

Getting back to the task at hand, I turned the key and popped open the box. Magic flooded the room like a pulsating glow of sunlight and power. Music sprang forth—some sort of ancient battle song—forcing a vision into my mind. I suddenly found myself in a bed chamber, watching an enormous brute swing a singing sword back and forth as he advanced on the figure asleep in the bed. Shaking myself free of the vision, I ignored the deafening tune and fought to stay focused on my orders. Get in, get the weapon, get out.

The bedchamber dissipated and I was once again in some rich guy’s trophy room, hanging upside down and staring at a metal box. Within the box, a magical sword almost as long as my legs and hooked at the end like a sickle, kept right on singing, declaring its greatness to the world.

The lasers were coming back around. I should have grabbed the sword, but the familiarity of it gave me pause. I pulled back from the lasers and struggled to process what I was seeing. I’d stolen some pretty high-value goods before, but this sword…I knew this sword. I’d seen pictures of it in books and read the lore about it. I was almost certain I knew what I was looking at, but I couldn’t accept it.

The Harpē?

It seemed to glow brighter in response.

It can’t be.

Nobody seems to know where the Harpē came from, but its lore began when Gaia, the goddess of earth, and Uranus, god of the sky, birthed a handful of hideous children, known as the cyclops and giants. Uranus sent the uglies to live in a hell-like prison for deities, pissing off Momma Gaia so much she gave the weapon to their son, Cronus, and asked him to whack off his father’s junk.

And I couldn’t think of a single reason why a weapon powerful enough to take down the god of the sky would be locked away in the trophy room of a human.

Was he human?

I’d done my homework. Public records had the owner of this place listed as Aaron Blake, some corporate CEO spawned from old money and raised to power on the backs of blue-collar workers. The guy was textbook for a hit. I had no reason to believe he was anything more than some greedy player.

Stupid, Romi.

If Aaron Blake wasn’t human, what was he? A god or a demigod in disguise? Everyone called the disguises glamours. They were more like a trick of the eye…easy to create. I’d used the same type of magic to disguise the daggers strapped to my thighs, assuring nobody would see so much as the outline of them through my dress. Yet I hadn’t even looked for a glamour surrounding Mr. Blake.

I wasn’t prepared to go up against a god, but the more I stared at the sword, the more certain I was of its identity, which meant touching it would bring someone’s ire down upon me.

Damn. What does Shade want with the Harpē?

Shade was terrifying enough without a magical sword at his beck and call. He already wielded me like a weapon, and the idea of arming him with the Harpē made my stomach churn.

No. I won’t take it! I won’t give him this.

Determined to follow through with my decision, I pressed the button on my harness and let the rope retract. Pain blossomed inside my chest, and the further I got from the sword—and the task Shade had ordered me to complete—the more I hurt. My insides seemed to fold inward, squeezing the air from my lungs. I knew from experience it wouldn’t let up. The pain would drive me crazy until I gave in and did my sire’s bidding.

Stars danced before my eyes, I smelled copper, and felt blood welling up in my nasal cavity, especially unpleasant due to my upside-down position. Swearing, I pressed the button again, halting my retreat. I’d only managed to get about five feet away. I dangled midair, cursing both my sire and the mother who’d abandoned me with him. Once again accepting the fact I had no choice, I lowered myself back down to hover above the sword and wait out the next cycle of lasers.

Giving in to Shade’s commands despite my personal convictions always left a sour taste in my mouth, but I couldn’t disobey. Not with my kid counting on me to make it home.


Lucky Blow
Gods and Pawns
Book 1
Amanda Washington    
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal
Date of Publication: 9/27/16
ISBN: 978-1537101279
ASIN: B01KUEPQM2
Number of pages: 189
Word Count: 55,746
Cover Artist: Lindsay Cimina
Book Description:
Thanks to the deities in her family tree, Romi has been enslaved to a life of larceny since birth. Well, except for that one night, four years ago, when the goddess of love and debauchery sprang her from her prison, slipped her some sort of magical roofie, and introduced her to an irresistible blacksmith for a little tryst resulting in a child. So when two powerful gods show up and offer her a way out of her thieving lifestyle for good, she jumps at the opportunity. All she has to do is blow on a magical sword and imbue it with luck.
Then she can finally find that guy she’s been dreaming about and introduce him to their son. If only she knew the blacksmith’s name…
But when the same gods use the sword to rip Zeus’s essence from his body, Romi’s son is kidnapped and held for ransom. Now Romi, her mysterious fling, and her teenage griffin babysitter have to steal back Zeus’s essence from a cast of powerful gods, or they’ll lose the child forever.
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About the Author:
Amanda Washington is a lover of wacky animals, enthralling books, dark chocolate, and red wine. She’s always up for a good adventure (real or fictional), and when she’s not building imaginary worlds, she’s dipping her toes into reality in southwest Washington with her husband and their boys.

 

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