Hi all,
I started a thread for excerpts, but not many people posted there. So I will give you a brief description of my book followed by a short excerpt. If it appeals to other women's fiction fans, you can read the first two chapters at my website, accessible by clicking my book link below.
Blurb.
Sylvie was a pleaser. She did as her mother pleased, and she did as her fiancé pleased. Then she did as she pleased. Raised by a domineering mother, Sylvie doesn’t like the submissive woman she’s become. Determined to take back her life, she heads to the hills instead of to the altar on her wedding day. Coming across a quaint, country inn with an intriguing name, she impulsively checks into SERENDIPITY HOUSE. Peopled with an odd assortment of characters, the inn has clearly seen better days. Even the regulars have a bit of wear on them.
Thus, when Alex arrives and is strangely comfortable vacationing among the geriatric set, Sylvie is suspicious and does her best to ignore him. But Alex will not be ignored, pushing her buttons until she admits, if only to herself that she’s falling in love with him. Not until she’s hired to manage the inn does she learn he’s not the pedigreed gentleman he purports to be, but a streetwise PI hired by her ex to find her. Adding insult to injury, he’s bought the inn and asks for her help in restoring it to its former glory. Forced to work together, both learn about relationships, expectations, and acceptance—among family members as well as strangers who become like family.
Excerpt.
With no guests to cater to, Sylvie shamelessly indulged her misery, staying up
until the wee hours of the morning, lolling in bed until noon, eating whatever she found in the cupboard that didn’t require cooking, and letting the dishes pile up in the sink.
After nearly a week of self-imposed isolation, she couldn’t stand herself any
longer. Rising early on Friday, she went to the market to replenish the pantry.
Later, in a burst of energy, she vacuumed the downstairs common areas and
scrubbed the kitchen floor. She told herself she had guests arriving that weekend, and if any walk-ins should happen by, she’d be ashamed to have them see the inn in such a state. In her deepest of hearts, however, she knew the real reason was more complex.
Torn between fear that Alex might return and fear that he wouldn’t, Sylvie
stared at the TV that evening, her ears straining for the sound of a car on the gravel drive. Shortly before six, she heard it. Heart racing, she peeked through the curtains, disappointed to see not Alex’s beat up loaner but a white paneled van bearing the logo of a local florist.
Puzzled, she accepted the delivery. Then she opened the box and parted the
tissues, revealing a single long-stemmed, red rose. Failing to find a card, she
stared at the bud, and then flung it to the floor. She’d just raised her foot to stomp on it when she caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. Playing the drama queen was her mother’s favorite role, not hers.
Retrieving the slender bud from the floor, she brushed off its petals and
placed it in a vase. Then she set it on the dining room table as a potent reminder of her pain.
Thanks for reading.
Joyce
Serendipity House