I’m delighted to host the lovely author Sheryl Browne on my blog today. Her new book, Learning To Love is now available and is one of this summer’s must-reads …

Over to you Sheryl!

Thank you so much, Caroline, for featuring me on your lovely blog. Thank you too to all those readers and book-bloggers for your wonderful support. The road to publication can sometimes be a little bit bumpy. Without you, I might still be languishing down the potholes.

Details of my new book:

Sometimes help comes from the most unlikely places …

Living in a small village like Hibberton, it’s expected that your neighbours help you in a time of need. But when Andrea Kelly’s house burns down, taking all her earthly possessions with it, it’s the distant and aloof Doctor David Adams – the person she would least expect – who opens his door not just to her, but to her three kids and slightly dotty elderly mother as well.

Andrea needs all the help she can get, dealing with aftermath of the fire and the suspicious absence of her husband, Jonathan. But, as she gets to know David and his troubled son, Jake, she begins to realise that maybe they need her help as much as she needs theirs …

~~~

Learning to love is here! Could it have ever found a more perfect home than with Choc Lit, where heroes are like Chocolate: irresistible?

Could it have ever found a more beautiful cover?

Would you like to see the video?

https://youtu.be/h5qbZycC8y4

Here is an excerpt…

David turned his attention back to his son, who was surrounded by a sea of photographs, he realised. Photographs of Michelle, from the albums in the spare room.

Cautiously, David walked across to stand by Jake’s side. Then, hands in pockets, he waited again, wondering what to say that could even begin to heal their relationship. What would he want to hear, if he were Jake?

Sorry perhaps? Wholly inadequate, David knew, but it might be a start.

He looked down at his son, whose head was bent in concentration on his endeavours.

He needed a haircut. Needed a lot of things.

David closed his eyes as he noticed the bottle of perfume tucked in the corner of Jake’s Adidas shoebox.

Michelle’s perfume.

Because Jake wanted something to remind him of her.

‘Need any help, Jake?’ David asked softly.

Jake didn’t answer. That was okay. David didn’t really expect him to. He swallowed back a lump in his throat, then took a gamble, crouched down next to Jake – and silently waited.

Biding his time, he studied the photographs quietly alongside his son. ‘You’ve chosen all the good ones,’ he ventured.

Jake did respond then, somewhere between a nod and a shrug.

‘Not many fun ones though.’ David reached for a photograph. One he’d taken himself on what turned out to be their last time at the theme park together: Michelle, Jake in front of her on the log flume, both shrieking with laugher and soaked through to the skin.

Probably the last time she had laughed – with him.

David breathed in, hard. ‘I did make her sad, Jake,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t help much, but … I wish I hadn’t.’

Jake’s head dropped even lower.

‘She did laugh though, you know, Jake. With you.’

David placed the photograph carefully in the box. ‘Alton Towers,’ he said, ‘summer before last. She laughed so much she had to dash to the loo, remember?’

Jake dragged the back of his hand under his nose.

‘She couldn’t have been that happy without you, Jake. You gave her the gift of laugher. That’s something to be glad about. To be proud of.’

David stopped, his chest filling up as he watched a slow tear fall from his son’s face.

David hesitated, then rested a hand lightly on Jake’s shoulder. Jake didn’t shrug him off.

‘You won her a stuffed toy that day, do you remember? What was it? A tiger?’

‘Tigger.’ Jake finally spoke.

‘That’s right,’ David said, his throat tight. ‘Tigger.’

‘She kept it in the car,’ Jake picked up in a small voice.

The car she never arrived at the hospital in, David realised, overwhelming guilt slicing through him. ‘She kept a whole family of furry friends in the car. I’m surprised there was room for her.’

Jake’s mouth twitched into a small smile. ‘She talked to them.’ He glanced up at David, his huge blue eyes glassy with tears.

‘That was the little girl inside her. The little girl you made laugh.’ David squeezed Jake’s shoulder. He actually felt like whooping. Like punching the air. Like picking Jake up and hugging him so hard … Jake had looked at him. Full on. No anger.

David closed his eyes, relief washing over him. ‘I have one of Mum’s stuffed toys,’ he said throatily. ‘One she kept. Not Tigger, but … Do you want me to fetch it?’

Jake nodded.

‘Right.’ David smiled. ‘Back in two.’ He dragged his forearm across his eyes as he headed for his own room. He had something else, too. Something he’d wanted to give Jake before, but somehow couldn’t.

The antique locket he’d bought Michelle for her thirtieth birthday was in the bedside drawer. David collected it, ran his thumb over the engraved rose gold surface of it. If Jake needed something to remind him of his mother, this was it.

‘Bedtime Bear,’ David announced, joining Jake back on the floor. ‘Your very first toy.’ He handed his son the scruffy little white bear.

Jake laughed and David really did feel like crying then.

‘I have something else for you, Jake.’ He passed him the locket. ‘It was very special to her,’ he said gently as Jake’s eyes fell on the photograph of himself inside it. ‘She wore it right next to her heart. And that,’ he went on as Jake looked at the lock of hair on the opposite side of the locket, ‘is your hair and hers, entwined.’

Jake went very quiet.

‘Okay?’ David asked.

Jake nodded vigorously. ‘Okay,’ he said, around a sharp intake of breath. David reached out, ran his hand through Jake’s unruly crop, and then allowed it to stray to his shoulder. He wanted very much to hold him, to reassure him. But Jake’s body language was tense. It would take time, David knew, but maybe someday, Jake would let him back in.

Tempted? Even I am, having read some of the gorgeous pre-release reviews.

You can grab your copy here: Amazon

For anyone kind enough to purchase the book, I would love your feedback. Because, at the end of the day, the fate of Doctor Adams is in the hands of the reader.

Keep safe all!

Sheryl x

Heartache, humour, love, loss & betrayal, Sheryl Browne brings you sassy, sexy, heart-wrenching fiction. A member of the Crime Writers’ Association, Romantic Novelists’ Association and shortlisted for the Best Romantic e-book Love Stories Award 2015, Sheryl has several books published and two short stories in Birmingham City University anthologies, where she completed her MA in Creative Writing.

Recommended to the publisher by the WH Smith Travel fiction buyer, Sheryl’s contemporary fiction comes to you from award winning Choc Lit.

Author Links

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Loveahappyending Lifestyle

Choc Lit | Romantic Novelists’ Association

Thinking of a holiday? Here’s an excerpt from Coffee Tea The Caribbean & Me to get you in the mood…

“By heck, this is the life!” Hattie tucked her bag into a storage area as a stewardess placed a glass of champagne and a packet of savoury snacks on a table between their seats.

  “Ah, business class, the only way to travel.” Hattie raised her glass and eased into the comfortable leather surround. “How long is the flight?” she asked and rummaged around for an inflight magazine, “I think I could settle on here for days.” She tossed a cashew nut into the air and deftly caught it with a wide-open mouth.

  “Don’t smudge your lipstick,” Jo said as she watched Hattie repeat the process.

  “Virgin Atlantic,” Hattie read the headline, “that’s us – two virgins crossing the Atlantic.”

  Jo fastened her safety belt and breathed a sigh of relief. They’d made it to their seats with only a few minutes to spare before take-off. Hattie had lingered in the duty-free shop, oblivious to the final call for passengers Docherty and Contaldo and it had been a frantic rush to get to the boarding gate.

  “What time are they serving dinner?” Hattie asked as the stewardess reached above their heads and closed the overhead locker.

  “I think they might want to take off first,” Jo smiled at the pretty girl in her tailored red uniform.

It had been a frantic dash to get to the airport. Jo had hoped for a leisurely journey but Hattie had thrown a last minute panic and insisted on repacking her cases, adding five more outfits that Jo had never seen before. Combined with Hattie’s need to have a cooked breakfast, “For the journey, you don’t know when we’ll get fed again…” they’d left an hour later than planned. Pete had offered to give them a lift and as he was collecting Meg that morning, it made sense to accept. He’d arrived in his Mercedes saloon and stared at the mountains of luggage on the driveway at Kirkton House.

  “How long did you say you’re going for?” Pete asked.

  “It’s all Hattie’s,” Jo replied as she placed her solitary case in line and wondered how on earth it would all fit in.

  “I’m not sitting with that scruffy mongrel!” Hattie threw herself onto the front seat and slammed the door. She lowered the window and glared at Meg who was sitting morosely by the suitcases, her head nudging Jo’s legs as Pete began to load bags into the car.

  “You look like one of the Beverly Hillbillies,” Hattie said sarcastically as she watched Jo clamber into the back and squeeze next to Meg, amidst mounds of luggage. “Barley sugar?” Hattie reached for a bag of sweets, deep in the depths of her bulging handbag.

  Relieved that the cases were safely stowed, Pete slid into the driver’s seat. “I wish I was coming with you, lasses,” he said as the engine roared into life and he pulled onto the main road.

  “Well I’m very glad you’re not,” Hattie replied rudely, “we don’t need a chaperone where we’re going.” She turned and gave Pete a salacious wink, “Ever thought of opening a kennels when you retire?” Hattie nodded towards Meg, who’d snuggled on Jo’s knee.

  Jo put her arm protectively round the dog.

  “Let’s just hope that the good folk of Barbados understand your warm Westmarland wit and humour,” Pete commented wryly as he took a barley sugar and began the journey to Manchester airport.

The plane took off and Jo and Hattie were finally on their way to Barbados. With eight hours to kill, Hattie fiddled about with the inflight entertainment. Jo turned her head and ignoring Hattie’s fumbling and cursing, stared out of the window. The plane had risen steeply and now levelled off to cruise above the clouds, where a deep blue horizon stretched as far as the eye could see. She sipped her drink and wondered if she was dreaming? Was she really going on a Caribbean holiday as a single woman? After a lifetime of being escorted by a man, this was something that she had never imagined and the thought filled her with anxiety, even with Hattie’s company. How Jo wished that her beloved John was here, holding her hand, and for the zillionth time she wondered if the pain of loss would ever ease.

  “These bleedin’ earphones don’t work!” Hattie punched wildly at her control panel.

  “Have you tried plugging them in?” Jo asked and taking the wires from Hattie’s fingers, connected the sound.

  “Ouch!” Hattie shouted as the opening music to a feature film blasted her ear drums, “Get us another drink Jo – I need to steady my nerves before I start watching, Twelve Years A Slag.”

  Jo closed her eyes and smiled. Whatever would she do without her friend? Hattie was like sunshine on a rainy day and Jo had a feeling that this holiday was going to be eventful. Was Hattie ready for Barbados, but more importantly, was Barbados ready for Hattie?

Coffee Tea The Caribbean & Me