Tuesday, 23 September 2014

♥ Hello, My Love - Ev Journey Feature ♥

Bright, blonde, beautiful Elise Halverson, focused on a law career and inexperienced in love, distrusts playboys like Greg Thorpe. Dark, good-looking, internet-business owner in the San Francisco Bay Area, he finds Elise intriguing, so unlike his fiancée Lori, the type of dark-haired, seductive beauty he escorted around.
Elise and Greg butt heads at her parents’ dinner parties. She discovers someone smart and deep behind his cool façade. Jaded by experience and business-minded, he finds she touches him at his core like nobody else has.
A strong attraction grows between them and leads to an unexpected encounter before his wedding. Lori’s threat of revenge tears them apart, revealing doubts and insecurities they have within themselves. They remain apart as they make choices about relationships, career, and abortion.
Older and wiser, they reunite two years later. Greg is in for a surprise. Their lives are also thrown again into disarray when Elise becomes the victim of a hit-and-run.  Is this Lori’s revenge or the result of a career-related threat?
This modern-day pastiche of Jane Austen and Elizabeth Gaskell novels is an engaging romp into deep powerful love, with a good dose of realism and a twist of mystery,

♥ Author Bio

I'm a realist in my writing, as well as my art. I don't have as much imagination as many other writers—a handicap (or strength) that comes partly from my training (Ph.D.) and experience as a mental health program researcher/evaluator/
developer. I'm also a flâneuse, a female observer-wanderer. I watch, and observe. And listen. That's where the meat of my writing comes from.

I tend not to rely on broad shoulders and heaving bosoms. Instead, I show growth in protagonists by exploring their thoughts and emotions. My novels deal with insecurities and disappointments, love/hate relationships with parents, characters who seem to behave out-of-character, and even life events not typically included in romantic fiction.

My love stories do have happy epilogues, and I've tried to work intriguing plotlines into them. I have an author site (http://evyjourney.com) and a book blog (http://margaretofthenorth.wordpress.com).

 Book Excerpt

   “Going to your parents’ dinner tonight?” Elise could not help smiling at the text message.
   She texted back: “Yes. See you.”
   Greg had been sending her text messages for some time. Often, they were greetings, in the morning, at night, on school holidays; or good luck wishes on exams, debates, and mock trials. Sometimes, he asked her opinion or a question about a legal matter or some fact of interest to either of them. She answered most of those messages although he told her she did not need to, if they were the usual greetings.
   Before they met, Elise had known Greg—from numerous news reports—as the young, progressive owner of a growing internet-based business, and one of the country’s 25 most eligible bachelors. The consensus in the media, especially among women reporters: tall, dark, and handsome. But Greg also had a reputation as a playboy, whose many romances were fodder for gossip columns. While Elise hesitated judging looks and personality, sight unseen, she was certain of one thing. She distrusted the likes of men such as Greg.
   But that was a year ago.
   Since he began consulting with her father, Dr. Halverson, an economics professor, Greg had been to many dinners at her parents' home. There, Elise got to know him better.
   Now, when curious acquaintances learned she knew Greg, they invariably asked, and Elise hardly ever varied her answer: “Yes, to news reports. Greg Thorpe is tall—taller than my father who’s more than six feet. Dark—tanned from jogging, bushy hair the color of French Roast woven with golden strands. And beautiful—clean-cut, cleft chin, smiling greyish blue eyes, and, yeah, lean. But, I think, muscular. I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him without his clothes on.”
   It always amused her that her incantation never failed to elicit sighs from young women.
   Elise was about to slip her iPhone into her shirt pocket when it rang.
   “Hello, Elise. How’s the light of my life this afternoon?” Greg said, in his teasing voice.
   “Hello Greg.”
   “I’m so glad you picked up. I was afraid you’d turn off your phone again.”
   “I can't turn it on in class, when I'm studying, or when I’m at work, and that’s almost my whole day.”
   “Are you staying over at your parents after dinner?”
   “I don’t plan such things. Depends. How late it is when dinner ends, whether I have some easy way to get back to my apartment, how guilty I feel about not having seen my parents for a while, etc., etc.”
   “I see. It’s Friday so I thought you‘re staying the night with them. Can I give you a ride home?”
   Elise protested. “But I live across the bay. That's 60 more miles of driving for you, both ways.”
   “Less than an hour in my fast powerful car.”
   She smiled. Only after she opened up to him a few months after they first met did she realize that Greg had a wry, often self-mocking, sense of humor.
   She teased him back. “But don't you need your beauty sleep? Aren't you getting married in two days? I’m surprised you’re even coming to my parents’ dinner party. I always thought weddings were exhausting. Don’t you need to rest up for yours?”
   “Think of this as my last fling.”
   “Isn't that when your buddies get you all soused and cavorting with some pretty young things? You definitely need stamina for that.”
   He groaned. “I’m afraid you have this unflattering image of me. But, believe it or not, that prospect doesn’t excite me. I feel too old for all that.”
   “Thirty-two’s not old. To me, old is decrepit. You’re not quite there yet.”
   “I'm glad you think so. Twenty-year olds think 30 is old”
   “I turned 23 a few weeks ago,” she said, her smile replaced with pursed lips.
   “That still makes you a young thing in my book. What if I cavort with you?”
   Elise scowled. She couldn’t conjure up a quick retort that she knew Greg had come to expect from her. It was not that what he said irritated her. And, she didn’t actually dislike it. But she felt herself squirm, a vague sense of unease in her chest.
   “I'm kidding. I know you're not the cavorting type. But we’re buddies, right? Well, more like sparring partners, maybe. Don’t buddies kid around?”
   She picked up an edge to his voice but it grew softer when he added, “Am I wrong?”
   She hesitated through the ensuing silence; for her, an uneasy silence relieved only by his audible breathing. He was going to wait until she said something.
   “I guess we are…friends, or whatever you wanna call it. That makes everything all right, then; kidding included. So, yes, you can take me home tonight. What’s 60 miles between buddies? No guilt, on my part, that you're going out of your way. I gotta run.” She hung up and did not wait for his reply.

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