Wednesday 28 February 2018

Summer in San Remo
Evonne Wareham

Series:  The Riviera Rogues (Book 1)
Genre: romantic comedy
Release Date: 18 July 2017
Publisher: Choc-lit

Anything could happen when you spend summer in San Remo … 
Running her busy concierge service usually keeps Cassie Travers fully occupied. But when a new client offers her the strangest commission she's ever handled she suddenly finds herself on the cusp of an Italian adventure, with a man she thought she would never see again. Jake McQuire has returned from the States to his family-run detective agency. When old flame Cassie appears in need of help with her mysterious client, who better than Jake to step in? Events take the pair across Europe to a luxurious villa on the Italian Riviera. There, Cassie finds that the mystery she pursues pales into insignificance, when compared to another discovery made along the way …


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Evonne Wareham was born in Barry on the South Wales coast, but spent most of her working life in London. Now home again in Wales she is studying for a PhD in History and writing romance. She was a finalist in two reality writing contests in the United States and had a great time, even if she didn’t win. When not studying or writing, she loves to travel, go to the theatre, walk on the beach and sleep. She has won and been nominated for awards for her romantic suspense novels on both sides of the Atlantic, but Summer in San Remo is  something different  – a romantic comedy with a light dusting of crime - which is a change of pace from writing the dark scary stuff. She is a member of both the Crime Writers’ Association and the Romantic Novelists’ Association, which means she gets to go to twice as many literary parties.

Twitter: @evonnewareham
Goodreads Author Page: Blog:

Tuesday 27 February 2018

Spring on the Little Cornish Isles
Phillipa Ashley

With this terrible weather we are all having at the moment, what better time to sit and read a little bit about Spring in the West Country! I'm delighted to be a part of Phillipa Ashley's Blog Tour for Spring on the Little Cornish Isles.


Twenty minutes later, Adam threw the rope around the bollard on the small quay at St Saviour’s and secured it to the cleat. Jess helped Gaby off the boat and up the steps with her bag. The quay rose out of a small rocky outcrop at the bottom of the island road. Deeper water lapped one side, while the other looked out over creamy sand, currently covered in a foot or so of translucent peppermint sea.
Gaby looked around her and shook her head in wonder. ‘Wow. It’s so beautiful. I’ve seen pictures on your website of course, but I hadn’t imagined the real thing would be anything like this. It’s still England, but as if England were set in the Greek islands.’
Jess followed Gaby’s gaze towards the long sweep of white sand that ran half the length of the island and the myriad rocky skerries dozing in the lagoon between the main isles. St Saviour’s, like Gull Island and its neighbour Petroc, were all clustered around the shallow ‘pool’ with only lonely St Piran’s lying to the west across a deep-water channel. 
‘It is lovely on a day like this,’ she said, quietly proud of her home.
‘Not so lovely when you’re trying to get the mail delivered in a howling gale or when the fog drops down,’ said Adam.
Gaby turned to him in surprise. ‘Oh, you’re a postman, then?’
‘Yes. I deliver the smaller islands’ mail.’ 
 ‘You must have the best post round in Britain.’
He grinned. ‘You can say that again.’
Jess squeezed his hand behind Gaby’s back. ‘Better get going. Will’s going to be … um … eager to welcome you too.’ She mentally crossed her fingers that her brother was in. ‘We can walk to the farm from here.’
Despite Gaby’s protests, Adam carried her case and the shopping. Jess had given up trying to stop him long ago. She took the chance to chat to Gaby as they trudged up the slope from the quay and onto the road that ran along the spine of the island. 
With Adam a few feet ahead, Jess slowed her pace to allow Gaby to take in her surroundings. She stared out over the Atlantic and spoke softly, almost reverently.
‘I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely seas and the sky
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.’
Jess waited, a little taken aback.
Gaby turned towards her with a smile. ‘Sorry, couldn’t resist. That’s from Sea Fever by John Masefield. Do you know it?’
‘I think I might have heard of it but I’m not that great on poetry to be honest,’ Jess replied, quietly amused and also, if she was honest, thinking the lines were very apt for the way she often felt about the spectacular spot she lived in: drawn to the sea.
‘The view is incredible,’ said Gaby, echoing Jess’s own thoughts.
‘Yes, you practically see most of Scilly from up here and Land’s End too on a clear day. Look, there it is.’ Jess pointed out a shadowy but unmistakable hunk of land on the horizon to the east.
‘Wow,’ said Gaby. ‘Exactly how far is it?’
‘Twenty-eight miles, though it may as well be Canada on some days. The fog can roll in and you can’t see the sea at all, let alone the mainland,’ said Adam, waiting for them.
‘Wow. That must feel like being cast adrift in the middle of the ocean.’ 
Jess felt a quiet sense of pride in Gaby’s awe. ‘It can be but on days like this, it’s gorgeous. And actually, we’re here.

Tuesday 20 February 2018

The French Adventure
Lucy Coleman

It's my pleasure to be a part of the Blog Tour for The French Adventure by Lucy Coleman. I have an extract for you and a fabulous giveaway! So grab a cuppa, enjoy a piece of this book and be lucky in the giveaway! Enjoy....

Genre: Sweet romance/cosy mystery
Release Date:1 February 2018
Publisher: Aria Fiction (Head of Zeus)

Packed full of French flavour and idyllic settings this is a romantic, heart-warming and unputdownable new novel about life and love, perfect for anyone who loves Milly Johnson, Lucy Diamond and Debbie Johnson.
Suddenly unemployed and single, Anna escapes to her parents' beautiful house in France for a much-needed recharge – and to work out what she wants to do next with her life now her carefully mapped out plan has gone out the window.
Anna gives herself 6 months to recuperate, all the while helping renovate her parents' adjoining gites into picturesque B&Bs. But working alongside the ruggedly handsome Sam on the renovation project, she didn't expect for life to take an unexpected, if not unwelcome, twist...


The L Word
Two weeks today will be the first anniversary of our first real date. Being wined and dined in a chic little French restaurant was a gigantic step forward; it signalled the beginning of a new era in my relationship with Karl. Even though at least half of the meal was spent talking about work, his intentions were clear – we were no longer simply colleagues and romance was in the air.
Since then, Karl must have told me that he loves me more than a thousand times. You might think I’m exaggerating, but I can assure you that’s not the case. He usually manages to slip it into the conversation at least three times a day. The first time he said the L word to me, it slid off his tongue so easily I could almost have missed it. It wasn’t a staring into each other’s eyes moment of discovery, just a casual ‘love you, babe’.
As the months rolled by, I pushed aside my growing fear that it was only a word to him. Because it means so much more to me, I freeze whenever he tacks it onto a sentence.
And, yes, I’m very aware that my air of disapproval does make me sound ungrateful and undeserving. But it’s all about self-preservation, you see. I’ll never utter that word again until I’m one hundred per cent certain that the man I’m saying it to believes I’m their soul mate too – the perfect fit.
The last time I uttered the L word, was six years ago. It was to a guy I’d known since childhood and the man I genuinely believed I would marry when the time was right. He was handsome in a rugged way, fired up with ambition and exciting to be around. Sadly, everyone we knew thought we were the perfect couple too, except the guy in question, as it turned out…




Lucy Coleman always knew that one day she would write, but first life took her on a wonderful journey of self-discovery for which she is very grateful.
Family life and two very diverse careers later she now spends most days glued to a keyboard, which she refers to as her personal quality time.
‘It’s only when you know who you are that you truly understand what makes you happy – and writing about love, life and relationships makes me leap out of bed every morning!’
If she isn’t online she’s either playing with the kids, whose imaginations seem to know no bounds, or painting something. As a serial house mover together with her lovely husband, there is always a new challenge to keep her occupied!
Lucy also writes under the name Linn B. Halton. 

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Friday 16 February 2018

The Mother's Secret
Clare Swatman
Blog Tour

Today I have an extract as part of the Blog Tour for The Mother's Secret by Clare Swatman. This sounds a great read and have been hearing some rave reviews, so sit back and enjoy!

20 October 2016

Georgie kicks a stone and watches it roll away across the wet sand, bouncing off rocks and pebbles until it comes to a halt just out of reach of a wave. She stops and looks out to sea, the flat grey expanse interrupted only by the occasional rise of white foam, stretching on forever, or to nowhere, the horizon a smudgy, indistinct line far in the distance. She closes her eyes and lifts her face so all she can hear is the wind pushing its way across the sand. It’s whipping the sea into a frenzy, sending waves crashing as they hit the shore and shooting spray into the already-­damp air. It pulls flags taut on their poles and drags empty crisp packets and dropped tissues with it indiscriminately as it races across the almost-­empty beach.
She opens her eyes again and looks down at her feet,  studying the footprints she’s left in the sand, creeping up behind her like a stalker she can’t outrun. A hand slips through the crook of her arm and she turns to find her big sister Kate next to her, smiling.
‘Hey, you.’
They turn and walk a few steps in silence. The sun is weak behind the gathering clouds and the wind’s getting stronger, blowing their hair round their faces and making their eyes water. Georgie leans into the wind until she’s almost at a ­forty-­five-­degree angle, at tipping point, daring the wind to stop. Next to her Kate shivers in her too-­thin coat.
‘God, it’s cold isn’t it?’ Georgie straightens up and hugs her arm in tighter to Kate’s.
‘It is – but if you insist on wearing those clothes what do you expect?’
‘Hey nothing – that’s nothing more than a cardigan masquerading as a coat, and your tights are practically useless.’
Georgie glances down at her outfit and grins. She loves her patterned tights; oversized cardigans and finding bargains in second-­hand shops is her mishmash style. Kate prefers sensible shoes, patterned tops and boot-­cut jeans and just doesn’t get Georgie’s love of the quirky.
‘Good point – but you can’t really talk, you’re shivering like a jellyfish too.’
‘This is true.’
Without realizing it they’ve stopped again and are both staring out to sea, watching the froth on the tops of the waves gather and wane, over and over, never-­ending. Kate plants  her feet firmly in the sand to stop herself blowing away, and Georgie holds on tight.
‘I wish Dad was here.’
The words come out of nowhere and, unsure whether she’s heard them right, Georgie leans in closer to Kate. ‘What did you say?’
Kate brings her mouth closer to Georgie’s ear. ‘I wish Dad was here. Don’t you?’
The words skitter and dance in the air between them, trying to find their place. Finally they
settle, and Georgie frowns. ‘Where has that come from?’
Kate keeps her eyes trained on the sea and shrugs. ‘I don’t know. Not really. I’ve just been thinking about him more and more recently.’
Georgie follows her sister’s gaze out to sea without speaking. She thinks about her father from time to time, of course she does. Naturally she’s wondered what life would have been like if they’d grown up knowing him, if he hadn’t been taken away from them before she’d even been born. She wonders what she’d be like too, whether she’d be different. Braver, stronger, tougher. Whether she’d have been as close to her mother, and her sister, if she’d had him there to dilute the love. But this question from Kate has still come out of the blue.
Before she gets the chance for an answer to form in her throat, Kate speaks again. ‘I know I can’t miss him exactly. I don’t even remember him, but – well, I suppose I do really. Miss him, that is. Especially now with – well, with Mum the way she is.’
Georgie nods beside her. ‘Me too.’ Her voice is barely more than a whisper and Kate struggles to hear her. They stand in silence a moment longer, letting their thoughts fill the space where their words should be, both thinking about the man in the photo on their mother’s mantelpiece, the father they’d never known.
‘Do you think he’d be proud? You know, of us?’ Georgie pushes a stray hair out of her face and tucks it pointlessly behind her ear, as it blows straight back out again.
‘Yes. I think he would.’ Kate sighs. ‘But I don’t think we’d be us, not us as we are now, if he’d been here.’ She turns to face Georgie. ‘Do you?’
‘Probably not, no.’
‘I mean, I bet you wouldn’t have fallen in love with the first boy you kissed if you’d had Dad around—’
‘Hey, hang on—’
‘No, I don’t mean it nastily, George, I really don’t. I just mean – well, if Dad had been here he probably wouldn’t have let Matt anywhere near you, at the age of thirteen anyway.’
‘Mum wasn’t exactly keen.’
‘True. But it’s still different. You probably wouldn’t have needed Matt as much if Dad had been here.’ She stops, thinks for a minute. ‘And let’s face it, George, I probably wouldn’t have been such a saddo either.’
‘Oh Kate, don’t say that.’
‘Why not? It’s true. I didn’t have any friends at school. I never had a boyfriend. You were my only friend, really, George.’
‘You were mine too, Kate.’
‘I know.’ She shrugs, looks away. ‘Maybe it could have been different, with Dad here. But then again, maybe not. Who knows? But either way I’d like to think he’d be proud of us. Let’s face it, he’d have two pretty different daughters to be proud of.’
Georgie smiles. ‘He definitely would.’
They stand for a moment, their words flying away with the wind. Then Kate turns to Georgie.
‘Do you think things would have been any different for Mum if Dad hadn’t died?’
Georgie feels a hard lump form in her chest and she holds her hand to it. She can feel the soft tha-­thump of her heart against her palm. Beside her, Kate’s eyes are on her, willing her to look round. And, finally, she does.
‘I honestly don’t know.’
The words are barely a whisper, but Kate shakes her head and turns away. ‘No, me neither.
I’d like to think so, though.’ There’s a beat of silence. Then: ‘George, I’m really worried about her.’
Georgie nods. She’d known this was coming from the moment Kate had suggested a walk on the beach this morning. Now the words have arrived and there’s no taking them back.
‘You know she’s been getting much worse, don’t you?’
Georgie nods again. ‘Yes. Yes, I do. She didn’t seem to know what was going on when I saw her a few days ago. She thought she was going to meet Dad for a date that night. I kept telling her she’d got it wrong but she didn’t even seem to be too sure who I was, and couldn’t grasp what I was saying.’
Kate nods and takes Georgie’s arm.
‘Come on, let’s go for a coffee.’ She points to the cafe at the top of the beach which, despite the weather, looks open, the windows steamed up. They walk in silence together, arms linked as their feet tread over sand and pebbles, until the sand gets softer and softer. There are drops of rain in the wind now and Georgie pulls her hood up and holds it tightly against her face.
The cafe feels hot and stuffy in contrast to the cold of outside, and they strip off their layers, hanging them on the back of the chairs as they go.
A good ten minutes pass before they’re settled at a table with coffee and hot chocolate and a slice of cake each.
‘It’s scaring me, Georgie, what’s happening to Mum. She’s getting so much worse, so quickly. Remember in the summer, the barbecue we had at mine?’
Georgie nods, thinking back.

To preorder a copy of the book from Amazon click here

Friday 2 February 2018

Boon's Bookcase is 3 today!!


I cannot believe that I have been blogging for 3 years today!! Who would have thought that little old me would have a book blog and still be going strong!! I am so proud of what I have achieved over the past 3 years with Boon's Bookcase, in spite of having a husband, 2 kids, a dog, holding down a full time job, studying for an Apprenticeship as well as Nordic Walking, Zumba and Clubbercise! now you know why I can't fit reading in as much as I would like to!!

I know my reading has suffered over the past 18 months because of my work and studying, but now I have passed my Apprenticeship I am hoping that I can crack on and review more fabulous books for you over the next year!

I want to say a huge thank you to all the Authors, Publishers, fellow Book Bloggers (who have been a continuous support), Family and Friends who have helped me along the way, but most of all, I want to say a huge thank you to my friend and book pal Julie Williams, who reviews far more than me and has gotten me out of a tight spot on more than one occasion when I have bitten off more than I can chew! Thank you my friend, you are amazing!

As a thank you I am giving one lucky person a £10 Amazon Gift Card (UK only, sorry) so do enter and be lucky!

Thank you once again for all of your constant support and friendship, long may it continue........

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