Fresh FIction Box Not To Miss
Claire Wilder | Author-Reader Match: SPEEDING HEARTS + Giveaway!
Author Guest / October 20, 2021

Instead of trying to find your perfect match in a dating app, we bring you the “Author-Reader Match” where we introduce you to authors you may fall in love with. It’s our great pleasure to present Claire Wilder! WRITES Emotional, slow-burn but very steamy small-town romance. In my books, the setting is always stunning and plays a big role in the stories (think small town with sparkling lakes, leafy forests, and tranquil rivers). ABOUT THE AUTHOR Fun-loving lover of romance (plus secret lover of thrillers, horrors, women’s fiction, and YA on the side!) who lives on the west coast of Canada with her rambunctious, creative family. Loves delicious food of all stripes, all the coffee and cab sav. Can frequently be forest walking or riding on an ebike! MY IDEAL READER: Is looking for an emotional read with a big payoff. Dreams of escaping the city for a lakeside retreat. Loves those long-running romances on TV (Pam & Jim [The Office]; Ross & Rachel [Friends, in the beginning!]; Carrie and Brody AND THEN Carrie and Quinn [Homeland]) Likes their romance steamy and is okay with a little angst and few bad words! Considers authors like Claire Kingsley and Melanie Harlow their…

Annabel Abbs | Exclusive Excerpt: MISS ELIZA’S ENGLISH KITCHEN
Author Guest / October 20, 2021

In spite of the fish vans that clatter through the town on their way to London and the hop pickers who arrive daily by wagon, Tonbridge does not have the hustle and bustle of Ipswich. This pleases Mother, who crows constantly about Tonbridge’s superior inhabitants and its superior visitors. And it is these that she has her ruthless gimlet eye upon: the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen who come to take the waters of our neighboring spa town, Tunbridge Wells, and are in need of superior rooms. Our rented home is newly built and has its name—Bordyke House—carved into the lintel. As befits a superior boardinghouse, it is spacious, well furnished, and situated well away from the town’s open drains. And yet it feels all wrong, like a poorly cut coat. Perhaps this is because Edgar has set sail to make his fortune in Mauritius, and Catherine and Anna have taken up positions as governesses—all of us fleeing gossip and disgrace—so it is only Mother and I rattling around here. Or perhaps it is because no amount of superiority can disguise our future as the landladies of a boardinghouse. We are in the morning room—yellow walls, armchairs upholstered in a shiny…