Showing posts with label #KirstenFullmer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #KirstenFullmer. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

Hometown Girl Memories (+ Giveaway)

Hometown Girl Memories
by Kirsten Fullmer
* (Hometown #6)
* Publication date: October 1st, 2019
* Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

If you enjoy novels featuring strong women, this is a book you are sure to enjoy!

Winnie is content in her role as the reining matriarch of Smithville, but when a letter arrives from a long-lost friend, memories draw her back to 1968. Those were turbulent but exciting days, her college days; a time filled with people and events she hasn’t allowed herself to recall.

Tara appreciates Winnie’s help with little Bella, she could never manage motherhood and running her Inn without help. Even though she’s preoccupied and busy she’s noticed a difference in her husband, Justin. He’s up to something and her gut tells her there’s more to it than just busy schedules. Not one to sit still, she’s determined to find out what is going on.

Join in the fun as Smithville’s leading ladies unite in this charming, must-read novel filled with love; past, present, and future.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Tara climbed from her car, and a hot September breeze tossed hair in her face. As she hurried to the back door of Winnie’s house, she wound her hair into a thick twist over one shoulder and glanced at her watch. Bella had already been with Winnie for an hour longer than planned, and she worried that the little monster had run the old woman ragged. Winnie was tough in her own right, but Lord knew Bella could wear down the devil himself.

She pushed open the kitchen door expecting to hear screeches of two-year-old laughter. Instead, she halted at the sight of Winnie sitting alone in silence. “Where’s Bella?” she sputtered in surprise. She hurried around the kitchen island to the old woman’s side. “What is it? Bella—”

Winnie swiped self-consciously at her cheek as she hurried to fold a sheet of paper and tuck it into an envelope. “Everything’s fine. Bella’s napping upstairs.”

Tara dropped onto the stool. This motherhood thing was aging her prematurely, she could feel it. The rise and fall of her blood pressure alone was enough to kill a person. Her gaze fell on the envelope as Winnie tucked it away, unwilling to share.

Winnie hobbled to the replica stove. “I tucked her into my bed when I saw you were running late,” Then, with a clank, she hoisted the antique tea kettle and plodded over to fill it at the sink.

Guilt replaced relief in Tara’s expression as she watched Winnie work. There was an unusual frailness about the old woman today. Had the letter upset her? The handwriting on the front had been spidery, like Winnie’s, and she’d only been able to make out the lone name, Kinkade, in the return address. No one she knew had that last name. It must be from one of Winnie’s old lady friends.

Had an old friend upset Winnie, or was Bella too much for a woman Winnie’s age? Winnie cherished the little girl, but the kid was fast and smart as a whip. It was all Tara could do to keep up her, so it must be even harder be for Winnie. “I really appreciate you letting Bella come here while I deal with morning checkouts. She runs wild the second my back is turned and gets into everything.”

Winnie placed the kettle on the stove and lit the burner. “The inn has been busy lately, hasn’t it?”

Tara wandered across the kitchen and opened an upper shelf. “I’m glad for the business, but it’s more than I can handle some days.” She took out cups and saucers and put them on the kitchen island. “Bella deserves more of my attention. It seems like all I do is holler at her, and that’s not the type of mom I want to be.”

Winnie arched a brow knowingly. “Do you think you’re the only mother who feels that way?” With tea tins in hand, she returned to the island. “Because I can assure you, you’re not.”

Tara pulled a lock of hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it. “I’m fine.”

Winnie gave the younger woman an I know better than that grandmotherly look.

Tara sighed. She’d never been able to hide anything from Winnie. “Oh, I don’t know, it just seems like I don’t enjoy anything anymore. Not Bella, not the Inn, not my time with Justin — like I get any of that,” she added under her breath. Winnie waited for Tara to continue. “I’m just— I’m too busy worrying about the next thing I have to do. I’m never even sure if I’m doing the thing I’m doing right.” She waved one hand. “You know what I mean.”

Winnie grunted, indicating that she did indeed understand, but she didn’t reply. Instead, she moved to her stool, eased up onto it, then adjusted her empty cup and saucer on the counter, deep in thought.

“Anyway,” Tara huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “I need to hire a maid to help clean the guest rooms or something.”

“Or a maid and a manager,” Winnie offered.

Tara’s head whipped up. “A manager?”

“You’re surprised.”

“Well— yes,” Tara sputtered. “Why would I hire someone to do what I can do? I’ve run the Inn since it opened.”

“Because you’re only one person, dear, and running the Inn is a 24 -hour a day job. You’re a wife and mother too.”

Tara pulled a face. “But, we live there. That would be weird.”

The kettle rattled on the stove, then hummed to a low whine, so Winnie slid from the stool.

Tara followed her with her eyes. “Do you think I’m doing a bad job with the Inn?” She certainly felt overextended, but she hated to think that others had noticed.

“Don’t be silly,” Winnie scolded as she poured steaming water into their tea cups. “I can just see how exhausted you are, that’s all.”

Tara sniffed, watching Winnie return the kettle to the stove. Winnie didn’t hold back when it came to her opinion, but the old woman definitely felt a bit off today. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked. “Did Bella wear you out? I could see if Julia could take her tomorrow—”

“Don’t you dare,” Winnie interrupted, waving the pot holder at her. “I love that little girl — she’s no trouble at all!”

Yup, Winnie was definitely not herself today; usually, nothing ruffled her. Watching the old woman from the corner of her eye, Tara pried the lid from the tea tin and dug absently through tea bags.

Winnie collected spoons and returned to her stool, where she watched Tara with pursed lips. Once every tea bag was spread across the top of the island, she spoke. “You know there is only one type of tea in there. What are you looking for?”

Tara shrugged. “I can hope, can’t I?”

“No,” Winnie replied with a frown. “I only keep breakfast tea in there and you know it. You can bring your own if you don’t like it.”

Tara’s tea bag froze half dipped into her cup, her gaze searching the old woman’s face. Finally, she wrapped the tag around the handle of the tea cup, the way Winnie had taught her. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Winnie’s spoon clinked the sides of her cup, but she didn’t look up.

Meet the Author

Kirsten is a dreamer with an eye for art and design. She worked in the engineering field, taught college, and consulted free lance. Due to health problems, she retired in 2012 to travel with her husband. They live and work full time in a 40' travel trailer with their little dog Bingo. Besides writing romance novels, she enjoys selling art on Etsy and spoiling their three grandchildren.

As a writer, Kirsten's goal is to create strong female characters who face challenging, painful, and sometimes comical situations. She believes that the best way to deal with struggle, is through friendship and women helping women. She knows good stories are based on interesting and relatable characters.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

Thanks for stopping by today. Have you ever thought about running an inn? Can you image all the stories that could develop from the people you would see? Do you know strong women in your life like these ladies?

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Friday, April 17, 2020

Love on the Line (+Giveaway)


* Love on the Line
* By Kirsten Fullmer
* (Women at Work #1)
* Publication date: June 14th, 2017
* Genres: Coming of Age, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult
Andrea is an ordinary girl in an extraordinary situation.
She left her comfortable home and family to take a job building a pipeline with her estranged grandpa, Buck. She’s curious about his job, and why her mother dislikes the man. She didn’t expect to uncover buried family secrets, or for the job to be so difficult.
Rooster isn’t a bad guy. He respects women; he was raised by one of the best. But that new girl on the job is too small and feminine. She’s a distraction, plain and simple, and she doesn’t belong on a pipeline. This job is his chance to impress Buck Brennan, a pipeline legend, and no girly greenhorn is going to ruin it for him.
Will Andrea prove herself to her grandfather and forge a relationship with the old man, or will continuous disagreements and unexpected sexual tension between Andrea and Rooster derail their hard work?

 Now here is an excerpt for your reading pleasure.

Without another word, Rooster led Andy away. He did take time however, to catch Nick’s eye, motioning down toward Andy with his head to indicate he would walk her home.
Nick nodded back.
Andy wobbled on her feet, so Rooster slipped his arm around her waist to keep her from tripping. Once they were out of hearing range, he held her at arm’s length, inspecting her face in the dim glow of the street light. “You okay?” he asked, his expression speculative. “You’re not gonna hurl, are you?”
          She mumbled and tried to push away.
          He kept hold of her, certain she’d topple to the ground if he let her go, and pointed her back toward the lane through the park.
          Finally accepting his arm around her, Andy staggered unevenly at his side, muttering under her breath about apples and pint jars.
          Three trailers down she tripped on a rut, nearly falling headlong into the road. Rooster grabbed her, wrestling her back to an upright position. They stood facing each other, with Andy swaying from side to side.
Rooster shook his head and moved his hands to circle her waist, to steady her.
She blinked up at him, looking beautiful, but so very drunk. “You’re gonna be sick as hell in the morning,” he murmured, unable to ignore the feel of her under his hands.
“I don’t feel so great now,” she slurred, trying in vain to focus on his face. “Where are we?” She flung her head from one side to the other, causing Rooster to tighten his grip in order to keep her upright.
“I’m walking you home.”
“Well.” She pointed back toward the party. “I live back there.”
“Why didn’t you say—never mind.” He turned her around to face back the way they’d come.
Andy’s feet dragged like a rag doll, and she giggled to herself. Feeling no pain, she broke into a rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, pronouncing the lyrics as ‘Trinkle, Trinkle.’
Rooster chuckled in spite of himself, working to keep her moving. “Come on, one foot at a time.”
She stopped abruptly, and her head kinked back as she gawked up at Rooster. “Why are we walking together?”
Taken aback at her ridiculous question, he wondered the same thing. “You need to get home.”
She regarded him; her head tipped to one side.
Fireflies winked behind her in the darkness. He waited.
Finally, her expression cleared. “You’re handsome, you know that?”
He didn’t reply, just took in her solemn expression. What was it they said, you were more honest when you were drunk, or was it…?
“No, I mean it,” she reiterated, flailing one hand. “I’ve always thought so.”
With a grin, he pointed her back down the drive. “Well, thank you. You’re very pretty as well.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, being agreeable.
Amused at her shifting moods he tightened his arm around her waist. The girl was warm and soft and, to his chagrin, humming again. She hiccupped loudly, and he sighed. He needed to get her home. “Which trailer is yours?”
Andy ground to a halt and flung her head to the left, then to the right, causing Rooster to tighten his grip once again.
“They all kinda look the same.”
He sighed. “Are you sure your trailer is by Nick’s?”
Her attention returned to Rooster. “I don’t know where Nick lives.”
He shook his head in exasperation. Holding her by one arm, he watched her with concern, wondering how he’d figure out where she lived. Reaching up with his free hand, he readjusted his ball cap. This wasn’t going well.
                                      ***
The pancake flipped twice in the air then landed back in the frying pan. Rooster settled the pan back on the burner and turned to his friend. “I’m just sayin’, you should have watched her closer. She’s never had moonshine before.”
Nick moaned and placed his elbow on Rooster’s table, then gingerly lowered his forehead into his palm. “Why you gotta be like that? Don’t I feel bad enough today?”
Rooster glared at the pan as he checked the pancake. “I’m sure Andy feels even worse.” And a drunk woman on her own is always at risk, he added to himself. In truth, she was in no danger with the crew, but still.
Raising his coffee cup for a long, slow slurp, Nick groaned. A rusty mew from under the table caused him to lean to one side and peer, red eyed, at the kitten batting his untied bootlaces under the table. With a sigh, he carefully placed his coffee mug back on the table and tossed his friend a dirty look. “Sounds like you were watching her most of the night. Why didn’t you step in?”
The pancake was done so Rooster slid it expertly onto a plate. “Not my party,” he stated flatly as he poured more batter in the pan. He moved to the table and put the plate in front of Nick. “Besides, you’re her friend.”
“Oh, and what are you?” Nick asked, lifting his blurry eyes to meet Rooster’s.
Rooster plopped a bottle of syrup onto the table, making Nick wince. “I’m the guy who had to drag her all over the park, trying to figure out what trailer to put her in!”
***
          Kneeling in her tiny bathroom, Andy dropped her head onto her arm circling the toilet seat and moaned. Not only did she feel like all holy hell, but she remembered bits and pieces of the evening before.
She thought she’d done okay at the party, but the fragmented memory of Rooster helping her home made her wince. Never again would she drink moonshine.
She lifted her head, then groaned and dropped it back to her arm. A hazy recollection of Rooster helping her up the trailer steps flashed in her memory. She recalled slipping to one knee, obliging him to grab her butt, a cheek in each hand, in order to heft her up into the trailer.
“Damn,” she lamented, feeling every inch the fool.
 


Author Bio:
Kirsten is a dreamer with an eye for art and design. She worked in the engineering field, taught college, and consulted free lance. Due to health problems, she retired in 2012 to travel with her husband. They live and work full time in a 40' travel trailer with their little dog Bingo. Besides writing romance novels, she enjoys selling art on Etsy and spoiling their three grandchildren.
As a writer, Kirsten's goal is to create strong female characters who face challenging, painful, and sometimes comical situations. She believes that the best way to deal with struggle, is through friendship and women helping women. She knows good stories are based on interesting and relatable characters.
For more on Kirsten and her writing, contact with her on the following sites: 

Thanks so much for stopping by today. Do you enjoy stories where the female protagonist is put in situations that women aren't normally associated with such as pipeline workers?

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