Books à la Mode | a book, beauty, and fashion blog

Netflix's New Series Based on Robyn Carr's Virgin River Books + Giveaway (cont. US only)

2018-11-26T18:41:00.000-05:00

Virgin River (Virgin River #1)
Robyn Carr
from MIRA // Harlequin

WANTED: Midwife/nurse practitioner in Virgin River, population six hundred. Make a difference against a backdrop of towering California redwoods and crystal-clear rivers. Rent-free cabin included.

When the recently widowed Melinda Monroe sees this ad she quickly decides that the remote mountain town of Virgin River might be the perfect place to escape her heartache, and to re-energize the nursing career she loves. But her high hopes are dashed within an hour of arriving: the cabin is a dump, the roads are treacherous and the local doctor wants nothing to do with her. Realizing she’s made a huge mistake, Mel decides to leave town the following morning.

But a tiny baby, abandoned on a front porch, changes her plans... and a former marine cements them into place.

Melinda Monroe may have come to Virgin River looking for escape, but instead she finds her home.

Giveaway!

In celebration of this exciting announcement, Books à la Mode is giving away one print copy of Virgin River, the first book in the series—yay!!

To enter, all you have to do is tell me:

Which books have you read from the Virgin River series? If you haven't read any, will you still be tuning into the Netflix show?

Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Robyn and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!

Sponsored wholly by the publicist—a huge thank you to the lovely folks at Little Bird Publicity!

Giveaway ends December 10th at 11.59 PM (your time).

Open to continental US readers only. Sorry, everyone else! Please check my sidebar for a list of currently running giveaways that are open internationally. There are plenty to choose from!

Void where prohibited.

Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.

As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ❤

Good luck!

Exclusive Sneak Peek: The Spite Game by Anna Snoekstra + Giveaway (US/Can)

2018-11-16T15:06:00.000-05:00

The Spite Game
Anna Snoekstra
from MIRA // Harlequin

Everyone does bad things when no one is watching

Mercilessly bullied in high school, Ava knows she needs to put the past behind her and move on, but she can’t—not until she’s exacted precise, catastrophic revenge on the people who hurt her the most.

First, she watches Saanvi. Flawlessly chic and working hard at a top architectural firm, Saanvi has it all together on the surface. But everyone does bad things when they think no one is watching and Ava only wants what’s fair—to destroy Saanvi’s life the way her own was destroyed.

Next, she watches Cass. She’s there as Cass tries on wedding dresses, she’s there when Cass picks out a cake, she’s there when Cass betrays her fiancé. She’s the reason Cass’s entire future comes crashing down.

Finally, Ava watches Mel. Mel was always the ringleader and if anyone has to pay, it’s her. But one tiny slipup and Ava realizes the truth: Mel knows she’s being watched, and she’s ready to play Ava’s games to the bitter end.

‘Do you want a glass of water or anything?’ the cop from the front desk asks me.

He’s opened the interview room door wide. Behind him, it’s bright. I can see the bustling station, police in uniform bent over desks or answering phones, detectives in suits walking swiftly with their backs stiff with self-importance. Not like in here, with its dull florescent lights and one small window. When he’d led me through that office, one of the policewomen had looked up from her paperwork. She’d given me what seemed to be a reassuring smile. I’d gaped at her. It took a second to click. She’d clocked my small frame. My thick lashed eyes, my wavy hair. She thought I was a victim. It was almost funny. ‘I’m okay. Do you know how long the detective will be?’

It’s only you I want to talk to.

He shrugs, ‘hard to say. Today has been non-stop.’

Is this a ploy? I don’t understand. Have you sent him in here to sound me out? Or maybe he’s offering me water in the hope of getting my DNA off of the glass? I’ve seen them doing things like that before in cop shows, I thought it was just an overused trope by lazy disenchanted screenwriters. I didn’t realize it was something that really happened.

‘Sure you don’t want anything? I’m sure I could scrounge up a tea-bag from somewhere. There’s coffee too if you’re game, but to be honest, all the clichés you’ve heard about police station coffee are correct. I keep telling them we should get an aeropress.’

I watch him talk. The guy is around thirty, so probably only a year or so older than me. He’s being pleasant enough, but I want him to go. I don’t want to play these games. It doesn’t have to be complicated. I want to talk. I want to explain it all, to make you understand. I’ve been weak before. That time in the changing room with Miranda, I was spineless. Not being liked seemed like the scariest thing in the world.

For once in my life I want to do the right thing.

‘I’m fine,’ I tell the cop, and he shrugs again.

I could still run. I could push past him, say I got mixed up. Made a mistake. That I don’t know anything about Mel. That I have no idea where she is. I could give in to that weakness one last time.

‘Well, thanks for your patience,’ he’s saying now.

All I can do is look past him at the light as he gives me one last lukewarm smile and pulls the door closed. I’m alone again in the gloom.

Twisting in my chair I stare up at the window. The sky is a pale blue. I watch the grey clouds inch across it. Time feels meaningless in here.

I’m in the right place. I’m sure of it. As hard as this is going to be it’s got to be easier than the last few weeks have been. I haven’t been able to eat. I’ve had nightmares every night. My skin is turning grey. I look pinched.

Still, should have said something when I left this morning. That’s my only regret. I’d said I was going to a meeting with the contractors. That it might run late. I didn’t want to lie, I’ve told more lies than truths in the last ten years and I wanted today to be end of all that. But I couldn’t say that I was coming here. If I had, I would have had to explain why. What happened. I only have it in me to tell this story once.

Giveaway!

Books à la Mode is giving away a print copy of The Spite Game—yay!

To enter, all you have to do is tell me in the comments below:

Were you ever bullied in high school? If not, did you do the bullying, or did you manage to avoid it completely?

Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Anna and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

I think the last time I was bullied was in middle school, but in high school gossip definitely messed with me a bit. Not direct bullying, but a form of passive social ostracism. Admittedly I recall partaking in some of the gossip as well (which I wish I hadn't) so I suppose it's just the natural order of most high schools.

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!

Sponsored wholly by the tour publicist and publisher—a huge thank you to TLC Book Tours and Harlequin MIRA!

Giveaway ends November 30th at 11.59 PM (your time).

Open to US and Canada readers only—sorry, everyone else! Please check my sidebar for the list of currently running giveaways that are open worldwide. There are plenty to choose from!

Void where prohibited.

As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ❤

Good luck!

Exclusive Sneak Peek: I Invited Her In by Adele Parks + Giveaway (US only)

2018-11-09T08:00:00.000-05:00

I Invited Her In
Adele Parks
from MIRA // Harlequin

Imagine the worst thing a friend could ever do.

This is worse.

When Mel receives an unexpected email from her oldest friend Abi, it brings back memories she thought she had buried forever. Their friendship belonged in the past. To those carefree days at university.

But Abi is in trouble and needs Mel’s help, and she wants a place to stay. Just for a few days, while she sorts things out. It’s the least Mel can do.

After all, friends look out for each other, don’t they?

I Invited Her In is a blistering tale of wanting what you can’t have, jealousy and revenge from Sunday Times bestseller Adele Parks.

When we were undergraduates, he lectured in business studies with an emphasis in marketing while he was still studying for his PhD. A peculiar position to be in, straddling both roles—a staff member and a student, albeit a postgraduate one. He was fast on the uptake with new media and positioned himself as a bit of an internet and digital marketing expert, the things that the older lecturers were afraid of. I didn’t pick the media module so I was never taught by him, but he was a bit of a legend within the university. Charismatic, bold, far younger than most of the other members of staff. Lots of girls had a crush on him, Abi included.

They started hooking up at the end of our first year. It was a clandestine affair to begin with. A chaotic on-off sort of thing. She never knew where she stood with him or the university. What were the rules? Them having a relationship wasn’t expressly forbidden, but it was certainly frowned upon.

Truthfully, I think Abi enjoyed the sneaking around, the drama, his inaccessibility, his power. This combined with his good looks meant he was irresistible. I gather from Wikipedia that they emigrated to America a couple of years after she graduated. He was offered some fancy job in a big advertising agency. Then, in a move I don’t quite understand (but no surprises there as I’m hardly the big businesswoman), he somehow managed to get involved in TV production.

He now owns an enormous and extremely successful production company. He seems to have shares in actual TV channels and investment in several other media companies. The photos I’ve seen online always show them both to be more groomed, wealthy and glossy than anyone else I know. Shrouded in success. She’s become much thinner, not that she was ever heavy. He’s got bigger, broader, more substantial.

This is not just a case of a pretty woman piggybacking on her successful husband’s career. She’s worked hard. Chosen that life over a family life. Yet, it seems her career belongs to him. What a mess. Now she has nothing to tether her if she floats away. Nothing to cushion her if she crashes to the ground.

That bit in the email about her father dying. That’s sad. I met Abi’s dad two or three times. He was very nice. Surprisingly unassuming, considering the daughter he reared. Luckily, my parents are in hale health; Ben’s dad died before I met him but his mum, Ellie, is well. Abi’s bad luck makes me feel oddly guilty about my own good fortune.

I haven’t seen Abi for seventeen years. She came to visit me once when Liam was a couple of months old, which was more than most did. It was an awkward visit, even though we both did our best for it not to be. Liam was born in June, around the time most of my friends were finishing second-year exams. Most of them had plans to be backpacking around Europe that summer, so I didn’t invite them to meet my baby to spare them the embarrassment, and me the hurt, of them refusing. Abi wasn’t backpacking though. She didn’t want to leave Rob alone in Birmingham. She just showed up.

She brought Liam a cuddly goose. It was one of his favourite things for a few years. He inaccurately called it Ducky. I kept it. It’s at the bottom of a box in the attic, along with his first romper suit and a few other bits and pieces that I’ve hung onto for sentimental reasons.

She chatted about our friends and tutors, brought me up to date on who was house sharing with whom, who was dating whom, who had done well in their exams and who had just scraped a pass. I was still talking about going back to uni and maybe if my degree had been a three-year course, I might have done. But it was a combined course, four years. I was only halfway through. Despite what I said, I think I already knew I wouldn’t be going back.

My boobs leaked milk during her visit because I did not want to feed Liam in front of her. I didn’t mind getting my baps out—I was already becoming accustomed to that. It was more complicated.

I didn’t want her to go back to uni and remember me as a feeding mother, pegged to the sofa, stewing in front of daytime TV, someone whose best friends were the six New Yorkers on the sitcom of that name. My breasts became miserably heavy, and I could smell my own milk leak onto my padded bra, then my T-shirt. Eventually, Liam woke up screaming. He was blissfully unconscious of my need to preserve some fragment of the old me in my friend’s memory. He hungrily rooted around my chest, staring at me with confused and furious eyes. Why wasn’t I feeding him?

In the end, his loud and insistent crying drove her away. She made vague promises that she’d visit again but I didn’t hold her down to a date. The moment the door closed behind her, I collapsed into the chair and pulled out my boob, fumbling. I squirted milk into Liam’s eyes and nose before I found his mouth.

Do I want to dredge all that up again? Is it wise? The twentieth, that’s tomorrow.

About the Author

Adele Parks one of the most-loved and biggest-selling women’s fiction writers in the UK. She has sold over 3 million books and her work has been translated into 25 different languages.

1500+ 5 star reviews have kindly been written by her fans on Amazon.co.uk 🙂

She has published 15 novels in the past 15 years, all of which have been London Times Top Ten Bestsellers.

Adele was born in the North East of England, in 1969. She enjoyed a traditional 1970’s childhood, watching too much TV and eating convenience food because nobody minded if kids did that in those days. Since graduating from university, where she studied English Language and Literature, she worked in advertising and as a management consultant. In 2010 Adele was proud to be awarded an honorary doctorate of Letters from Teesside University.

Giveaway!

Books à la Mode is giving away a print copy of I Invited Her In—yay!

To enter, all you have to do is tell me in the comments below:

What is the worst thing a friend has done to you? Did you recover the friendship?

Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Adele and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

One of my friends abandoned me while she was hosting me in her home after a night out. She just left, leaving me alone in HER house that she shared with roommates, and I was not in any position to leave (not in my part of town, no transportation, and I had been drinking). I wasn't able to go home until the next morning but that night was very uncomfortable. She never apologized for it, so we did not make up after that.

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!

Sponsored wholly by the tour publicist and publisher—a huge thank you to TLC Book Tours and MIRA Books!

Giveaway ends November 23rd at 11.59 PM (your time).

Open to US readers only—sorry, everyone else! Please check my sidebar for the list of currently running giveaways that are open worldwide. There are plenty to choose from!

Void where prohibited.

As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ❤

Good luck!