Rachel Thompson

Jack Canon's American Destiny

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Orangeberry Book of the Day - Be Good by Dakota Madison


A small ray of sunlight peeked through the window shade and woke me up. I panicked slightly when I realized I wasn’t on the side of the bed I normally slept on. Weird.

It took me another moment to realize I wasn’t in my bed at all. Another round of panic overtook me until I remembered the wedding. Hannah and Brandon’s wedding was last night and I was one of the bridesmaids. I was staying at a hotel with the rest of the wedding party. I let out a small sigh of relief.

The sun seemed to be barely coming up so I could probably go back to sleep for a while. I could enjoy a few hours of solitude until I had to go back to my freaky roommate and her evil cat. Ugh! I hated that damn cat.

Then I felt an arm swing over my shoulder.

Shit. I wasn’t alone. Was I even in my room?

I racked my brain trying to remember any details of how I got back to the room I was in and who could possibly be in the bed beside me.


My mind was blank. I had little recollection of the previous night’s events thanks to a few too many tequila shots, no doubt. Or was it Lemoncello? Barf. The thought of Lemoncello made my stomach churn.  I felt like I might spew.

It was definitely too much Lemoncello.

“Good morning, Beautiful,” murmured a male voice in the bed beside me. Unfortunately, it didn’t sound the least bit familiar.

Was I in his room or had I taken him back to mine? Knowing me, I had suggested we go back to his room so I could make a quick escape in the morning.

I couldn’t remember who I was with or how we ended up in bed together. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time I couldn’t remember how I had gotten into some random guy’s bed. I’ve had many slutty moments in the past but few of them were this slutty. Hooking up with someone at a wedding was an all-time low. And not just any wedding—one of my best friend’s weddings. Oh, God…had I become a wedding slut?

I could feel whoever it was easing toward me in the bed and my heart start racing. Panic was setting in again. I needed to escape. All of my past slut-scapades had ended with me sneaking out of bed, quietly gathering my things and bolting before any embarrassing morning-after crap had a chance to materialize.

Now it was too late to escape unnoticed. He was awake (whoever he was) and I was going to be forced to face him. And I didn’t remember a thing.

I could feel my stomach churning again and I realized my head was also throbbing.

Great. I had to deal with a hangover, too.   

I jumped up from the bed pulling the sheet along with me and ran into the bathroom. I just made it to the toilet when the contents of my stomach decided to make a reappearance.

It was definitely Lemoncello. I wouldn’t be drinking that again for a while. A long while. It tasted absolutely God-awful on its way back up.

I laid my head on the cool side of the toilet and let out a sigh.

I tried to remember anything I could about the previous night. Why did I have an image of a clown so prominently in my mind? What did it mean?

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?” the male voice said. There was a tenderness to his voice that surprised me.

“No,” I replied more curtly than I wanted to. Sarcastic and curt remarks often popped out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop them. It was one of my many flaws. I kept a running list. I had been keeping ANNA’S FLAW LIST since I was 12 years old. It started with all of the flaws my mom and dad liked to remind me of and built from there. Most of the flaws came from guys I dated and were used as excuses to break things off. Or maybe they were right and I was just a fucked-up chick (Flaw 15), who didn’t deserve to be loved. 

“Can I come in?” the male voice asked.

I hadn’t even bothered to glance at myself in the mirror as I hurried by on my way to the toilet. When I tried to sit up, I felt like I had just gotten off one of those Tilt-A-Whirl rides at an amusement park. I felt like I was going to hurl again but I was pretty sure there wasn’t anything left in my stomach.

“No,” I managed to mutter right before I dry heaved into the toilet.

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Genre – Contemporary Romance

Rating – R

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Website http://12novels12months.tumblr.com/

Review: Spare Change by Bette Lee Crosby

Spare ChangeSpare Change by Bette Lee Crosby
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Were you able to connect with the main character and why? I easily connected with Olivia. I waited to get married and I think the older we are in doing something we appreciate it more.

If you could rewrite the ending, would you? I would not change anything, I liked the way the book ended.

If you could only save one character from the book, which one would it be and why? Susanna, I would allow her to have a chance at singing in New York.

Disclosure: I received a review copy of this book from the author.

View all my reviews

Author Interview – Bette Lee Crosby

What is your favorite place in the entire world? I must say, I love the sun, warm weather and palm trees of Florida and I am fortunate enough to live here, but I would love to spend a month or two in Paris. We were there two years ago and it was enchanting.

When and why did you begin writing? I started writing fiction about twelve years ago. Prior to that I was in advertising and wrote for business. I transitioned to fiction because I have a love for storytelling. Making the change was quite dramatic since the writing styles are so different, but I’ve not for one second regretted my decision.

How has your upbringing influenced your writing? Although I spent much of my childhood in New Jersey, my parents were from the South. Hearing the words of my parents, aunts and uncles in my ear all my life has enabled me to not only write in a southern voice, but to also think as a Southerner. I think that’s what makes my Southern characters come to life as vividly as they do.

Have you ever had writer’s block? If so what do you do about it? Yes, I have. Sometimes it comes as a blank computer screen looking back at you; other times it shows its ugly face as ordinary words that do nothing for the story.  I have learned that when it happens, the best thing to do is leave the computer and go for a walk, play with the dog, or have a cup of tea. Usually five minutes after I am away from the computer, I have a clear vision of where the story needs to go.

Spare Change is an Amazon #1 Bestseller in historical fiction, will you write other books in this genre? Absolutely. As a matter of fact, I am now working on what will be a sequel to Spare Change. This is a first for me; all of my previously published novels have been stand-alone books. But with Spare Change, so many readers suggested a sequel and I loved the thought because I wasn’t ready to let go of the characters in that book.

Is there a message in this book that you want readers to grasp? Yes, I’d like them to close the book with the understanding that the best thing in your life can sometimes be hidden under a big pile of troubles.

How did you come up with the title? I believe the title of a book is almost always hidden somewhere in the story, in a poignant thought that suddenly takes on a greater than life meaning and becomes the title of the book.

Reviewer’s Choice 2012 Award Winner! In a story that’s been compared to John Grisham’s The Client, eleven year-old Ethan Allen Doyle has witnessed a brutal murder and now the boy is running for his life. In the time-tested tradition of Southern Fiction, Crosby unveils the darkest side of human nature and then rewards her readers with a beautiful tale of love, loss and unexpected gifts.

Olivia Westerly is the only person Ethan Allen can trust, and he’s not too sure he can trust her. She’s got no love of children and a truckload of superstitions–one of them is the belief that eleven is the unluckiest number on earth. Olivia avoided marriage for almost forty years. But when Charlie Doyle happened along, he was simply too wonderful to resist. Now she’s a widow with an eleven-year-old boy claiming to be her grandson.

With a foul mouth, dark secrets and heavily guarded emotions, Ethan Allen Doyle is not an easy child to like. He was counting on the grandpa he’d never met for a place to hide, but now that plan is shot to blazes because the grandpa’s dead too. He’s got seven dollars and twenty-six cents, his mama’s will for staying alive, and Dog. But none of those things are gonna help if Scooter Cobb finds him.

Winner of Five Literary Awards,BookBundlz Finalist, Voted Goodreads Best Unknown Fiction, FPA President’s Book Award Gold Medal Finalist

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Literary Fiction

Rating – PG13

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