Hi everybody. This week I am hosting a wonderfully insightful author. Katie O’Boyle and her book Finding the Way Back To Love. Just from what I have read of this story, it sounds amazing and interesting and worth reading again and again. So please, check out Katie’s book and find out how good it really is. Enjoy!!
Finding the Way Back To Love, by Katie O’Boyle
(release date 2/4/15)
Gwen Forrester, Ph.D., 32, gifted psychotherapist and beautiful widow, is stuck in a rut, dating hotties on the fast track. What she really wants is a life partner who’ll help her raise a family and make a difference in her home town, Tompkins Falls. New in town, Officer Peter Shaughnessy, 30, has recovered from the gunshot wound he suffered in a drug bust in the city of Syracuse, but he’s still smarting from his ex-wife’s betrayal and, before that, the years of abuse from his alcoholic father. It feels like fate to Gwen when her very-pregnant niece Haley trips the security system at Gwen’s lakeside home and Officer Shaughnessy takes the call. By joining forces to help Haley, Peter and Gwen discover they’re a good team. Long, exhilarating canoe trips convince them they’re on the same page with their life goals. Then a destructive squall lands them on the rocks, and a night of stormy passion reveals painful truths that drive them apart. Are they willing to go to any length to find their way back to love?
Gwen comes from a wealthy, loving family and devotes her life to helping alcoholics in recovery. Peter, the scarred-for-life son of a hopeless drunk, is dedicated to law enforcement. They’re hot together! She’s a recovering alcoholic herself, though, and he never lost his disdain for alcoholics. When the going gets tough, will their differences destroy their love?
Excerpts – Finding the Way Back To Love
by Katie O’Boyle
“Gwen Forrester?” Peter asked. At her nod, he stepped aside.
Her startled gaze shifted to Haley and softened with love. Her face lit up with delight when she spied the big belly. “Oh!”
The two rushed toward each other, embracing, laughing, crying, talking so low he could make out only a few words—“your mother?” and “boy we met at Christmas” and “when?”
“October, really?” Gwen stepped back. “Just two more months?” She caressed Haley’s face. “Have you had anything to eat today?”
“I’m starved.” Haley grinned.
“Ma’am?” Peter got no response. He might as well be invisible. “Ms. Forrester?” he said louder.
Gwen turned with a look of pure joy, cheeks flushed, eyes wide. She was a chic, older, ash-blond version of Haley. Even more beautiful.
Her dreamy gaze made him wonder if she was flirting with him. Get real, Shaughnessy. “If you won’t be pressing charges, my partner and I will clear out of here, Ms. Forrester.”
She held out her hand, tilted her head coquettishly, and told him, “It’s Gwen. And you are?”
“Officer Peter Shaughnessy.” Her handshake was firm and surprisingly strong for such a slender, feminine woman. He cleared his throat. “You’ll need to get those locks fixed right away, ma’am.”
“Gwen,” she reminded him with a flutter of thick, dark eyelashes.
“Gwen, my partner and I recommend that you put your vehicle in the garage tonight, close and lock the overhead door, deadbolt the kitchen door, and set the alarm. Call a locksmith first thing in the morning.”
Her only response was, “Haley and I will be having breakfast around nine. We’d love to have you join us, Officer.”
He opened his mouth to repeat the caution but closed it again. His partner had told him Tompkins Falls operated more like a small town than a city. This definitely wasn’t going by the Syracuse Police Department procedure book that he still had in his head.
Haley touched his arm and winked. “Come for breakfast, Officer. I need protection from the Inquisition. And Gwen makes a mean omelet.”
Gwen took a nervous sip of almost-cold coffee. “I’m sure her mother was no help. Ursula is completely self-absorbed. She probably threw Haley out on the street.” She used a piece of bagel to push the rest of her omelet into the center of the plate and rested the bagel on top. “Haley and I didn’t get into the hard questions last night. All I know is she came here by bus with a duffle full of dirty clothes—none of them maternity clothes—and a stash of cash.”
“She said last night she walked here from the bus station.”
“I didn’t even know she was coming.” Tears burned Gwen’s eyes. “I realized this morning, she had left me about six messages from four o’clock on. I should have been here for her.”
“Gwen, you were here for her.” Peter’s voice was gentle. “Your timing was just off a little. And maybe it’s not a bad thing that the police confronted her for breaking in last night. It’s a wake-up call that she’s making some desperate decisions. Bad ones.”
“You’re a wise man, Officer Shaughnessy.” Gwen dabbed at her eyes with her napkin and gave him a grateful smile.
“I have a sister. She made some bad choices at that age, too.”
He drank down his juice and slid off the stool with a fluid motion that rippled the muscles of his torso, under his tight, white T-shirt. A thrill shot through Gwen.
“The doc and his wife are gone now?”
“They died one after the other, like some couples do. She had a heart condition of some kind, and he died a few weeks after they buried her.”
Peter wondered what it was like to have two loving parents.
“I was in high school,” Sam continued, “so it was six or seven years ago. Seemed like the whole town was in mourning. Gwen was widowed around the same time.”
A widow? “Rough.”
“I’m sure it was. Gwen moved back to the family home after he died. She moved her practice here, too. You saw the office.”
“She’s a doctor like her dad?”
“Psychologist. She helps a lot of people, especially recovering alcoholics and addicts.”
“That’s a recipe for disaster.” On the left, a popular lakeside park stretched for two miles. He usually went for a run on the gravel path after his shift.
“What do you mean disaster?” Sam asked.
“Woman alone, miles from town, lives down a long, private road. Sees clients with psychological problems, alone, all day. Sure there’s an alarm, which is what brought us out tonight. It took us, what, seven minutes to get out there, from the time the 911 dispatcher called us. You figure there had to be some delay before that while the alarm company phoned the homeowner, got no response and relayed information to the police.” He shook his head. “Plus, if one of her patients went off on her during a session, no alarm would summon help.”
Peter sensed his partner’s gaze on him. He glanced over and saw both Sam’s eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Well, I wouldn’t want my wife or—or sister or girlfriend in that situation, would you?” Sam’s chuckle pushed Peter’s buttons. “What?”
Sam shrugged. “Just never thought of it that way. What do you think of her?”
“Gwen Forrester? She’s either made of steel or out of her mind.”
The wind picked up speed. Gwen’s breathing grew labored. A wave gushed over the gunwale behind her. And another. Keep going.
The pitch of the hillside changed subtly. She rested for a few seconds and squinted at the shoreline, seeking a welcoming cove or a low spot where they could land. Nothing yet. She dug in hard for another mile, but she wished she could hear Peter so they could work in synch. As it was, she made his job harder. Whether she paddled too fast or too slow, he had to correct their course.
With the looming storm, the sky darkened as if it were twilight. She turned back to Peter and saw his head low, his shoulders straining. She dug her paddle in and prayed. Every stroke mattered.
About half a mile farther, waves assaulted the canoe. Gwen’s lungs labored, and her shoulders burned. The eerie light gave her shivers, but it was bright enough for her to see a stream and a thin waterfall that sliced through the hillside and plunged into the waters of a rocky bay.
Nine Mile Bay. The hillside from this point north was still steep, but rough tracks cut through the tree cover. Four-wheel-drive vehicles had access to a few remote houses much of the year. We’ll find shelter.
“Soon,” she yelled above the wind.
A flash of lightning on the western shore shot fear through her body. A sob escaped her.
And now a few fun questions and answers:
Amy, I really enjoyed answering your questions! I wasn’t to know how YOU would answer each and every one of them! This is going to be a great blog.
Have you ever had a moment when you just got stuck in your writing? If so, what did you do to break free from it?
Whenever that happens, it’s my brain asking for a much-needed break! I take a meditative walk outdoors, sometimes with my camera in hand. If the weather is beastly, I do some yoga instead and use imagery to imagine myself in some spectacularly beautiful place.
Who are some of your favorite authors to read?
For romance I love The Chesapeake Diaries series by Mariah Stewart, and I laugh out loud at Kristan Higgins.
In your opinion, what makes a really good book?
I like to read about very motivated characters that have goals and values they believe in. Then they meet each other… oops! Even though they irritate the heck out of each other, they fall in love. There’s no way around it: they have to work it out in order to have the love of a lifetime. Of course, all the necessary changes open up new possibilities and happiness and shared goals that lead them, together, into the future. That to me is a satisfying “happy ever after.”
What is your writing process?
I recently attended a workshop by Roxanne St. Clair that helped me crystalize the process that works best for me when I’m writing romance. Although I have a good idea of where the romance is heading, I write scene by scene, revise as I work, and pause once or twice to review and revise the work to date. What does it look like day-by-day? Lately, I’ve been getting up early (before sunrise), fixing coffee, and writing much of the morning.
And just for fun and to give the readers a little insight to you:
If you could live in any period, when would it be? Why?
Honestly, I love the present day, and this is exactly where and when I want to live! Every age has its horrors and foibles and miracles. Today is no exception. I try to make the most of each day, focus on what’s going good, and act with kindness toward everyone I meet in the course of the day.
Finding the Way Back To Love, by Katie O’Boyle
Born in the upstate-New York village known as the Birthplace of Women’s Rights, Katie O’Boyle loves the Finger Lakes in every season. That’s why she set her Lakeside Porches romance novels in Tompkins Falls on Chestnut Lake. To the outside world, she is a tech-savvy college professor. To friends and readers, she is the author of warm-hearted romance. She recently finished writing book four of the Lakeside Porches romance books and novellas and is planning book five.
**Meet Katie O’Boyle:
on Facebook as “Katie O’Boyle Author”
on Twitter as “TompkinsFalls”
Places To Buy: