Sarina Bowen's Blog, page 22
April 2, 2020
Cover Reveal!
March 31, 2020
Lovely Things from March
Dear Friends,
March was approximately 5577 days long, right? I feel as though I spent the whole time reading news headlines and wringing my hands. But when I stop and reflect, there were a lot of excellent moments, too. Here’s all the good news from March:
Exciting things that happened before we quarantined the whole flipping world:I went to the Audies! This is the annual awards ceremony for audio books. I went at the invitation of Lauren Blakely, which means I finally met her! And she is even more lovely in person than on the interwebs.
I also saw my collaborator Tanya Eby, my friend Corinne Michaels, as well as narrators Andi Arndt and Emma Wilder!
And I met Erin Mallon, Virginia Rose, Lucy Rivers, Jason Clarke, Shane East, Lili Valente and — wait for it — Teddy Hamilton! Most of these talented people were finalists. What a successful bunch. It’s intimidating, damn it.
I watched my 14yo play his violin with, oh, fifty other people in the high school strings orchestra. If you ever want to be sure that the world will BE OKAY DAMN IT go to a high school orchestra concert. Then you will be sure.
And, strangely, before parties were outlawed, I went out two weekends in a row. What is this life? I haven’t done that since 1996.
One of the parties was a bonfire. We ate soup and burned brush. That is a thing we do in New England. It’s more fun than ice fishing.
Tanya Eby
Teddy Hamilton
Corinne Michaels, Lauren Blakely, Lily Valente
Teens earnestly playing classical music
Burning things is fun
Also:
Watford beat Liverpool. If you don’t know why this is a big deal, I probably can’t do it justice. But when my 16-year-old soccer nut called home, I got to blow his little blond head with this nugget of sports gossip. He spent five minutes saying: “No. No! Watford? NO WAY.” Then I told him the score (3-0) and it began all over again.
I read some great books! Bringing Down the Duke by Evie Dunwood was witty and terrific. Eight Perfect Murders by Peter Swanson was creepy and disarming. Angel in a Devil’s Arms by Julie Anne Long is one of those books where the cover and title don’t do it justice. Slow clap for excellent writing!
And then IRL was canceled. Or cancelled. One of those.
Anxiety is the new norm. Sleep became difficult. My 16yo son had to come home from his amazing school forever, and he is depressed. But still there were lovely things. Including:
Watching my 14yo play his violin for his teacher on Zoom. This new lesson format works surprisingly well. And I didn’t have to drive 20 minutes and parallel park.
Reconnecting with old friends! 10 years ago I left New York City. Which meant leaving my book club. I began reading with these women in 1995, so now you know that I’m old. Anyway, we got the band back together and we’re meeting on Zoom. This month’s book club pick is The Weight of Ink by Rachel Kadish.
Supporting local businesses makes my heart happy. So far I’ve purchased books from The Norwich Bookstore, Still North Books, and bread from Umplebys and baking supplies from King Arthur. I’m trying not to buy anything from Amazon right now because the Coronavirus is growing their monopoly over everything. Plus, I feel stressed out for my UPS driver, Bruce.
I baked bread! My teenager made a coffee cake! I rented two mandolines from the struggling guitar store. I suck at Twinkle Twinkle, but my kid was playing Vivaldi ten minutes after we opened the cases! Life is weird and occasionally atonal. But we are still here, damn it. And I hope to have many more good things to say about April.
Love,
Sarina
March 25, 2020
You won't believe this rock star series that's coming your way!
1 band. 3 authors. 3 stand-alone love stories.
I’m so excited to tell you about Hush Note! Devney Perry, Rebecca Yarros and I have been working on this for months! You can get all the links it RIGHT HERE. Or keep scrolling for more!
The Hush Note series kicks off with Lies & Lullabies!Once upon a time, he gave me a summer of friendship, followed by one perfect night. We shared a lot during our short time together. But he skipped a few crucial details.
I didn’t know he was a rock star.
I didn’t know his real name.
Neither of us knew I’d get pregnant.
And I sure never expected to see him again.
Five years later, his tour bus pulls up in Nest Lake, Maine. My little world is about to be shattered by loud music and the pounding of my own foolish heart.
March 8, 2020
Lovely Things from February
I got the idea for this post from Alexis Hall, who wrote up a Things I Liked post for February. And I realized how wise that was, because the world is making me particularly anxious right now. Why not celebrate the stuff that went right?
So here goes. The glories of February:
I went cross-country skiing several times, and did not die. (In spite of the snow-covered DANGER sign we skied past.) I skied past a sheep. And I skied on a lake with a dog.
I met a guard llama named Desmond. Guard llamas are a thing. That makes me unaccountably happy.
The Husband built several fires in the wood stove. They crackled magnificently. So even though the air had, say, -5% humidity and my skin has mostly fallen off, it was super atmospheric.
A 42-year-old minor league Zamboni driver stepped in as an emergency goalie, helping the ‘Canes beat Toronto at home. This would be fabulous any old day of the week, but it was especially fun to hear just after Elle Kennedy and I published a novella with the same plot.
Still North Books got its liquor license. So, bitches, there is now a bookstore in my town THAT ALSO SERVES WINE. Does that make me cool? Fuck it. Who cares.
I dined in a restaurant that used to be (and still looks exactly like) an old Vermont train station. And there was live music.
Enjoyed a highly caloric tapas dinner and a Dark & Stormy before watching Yale beat Dartmouth at hockey! YAAAAAS.
Made two different lasagnas and had 10 people over for dinner. The sauce was from a jar. But everything else was from scratch. Except dessert. Some people cook every night. I am not one of those people. So I feel like I scaled K2, here.
Wrote more than 35k words, meeting my goal. I hit the USA Today list with Heartland. I sold rights to books in German, Russian and Czech.
Wow. February was a freaking great month. Alexis is onto something. I feel better. So even if we’re all in quarantine by the end of March, I fucking conquered Feb.
Onward.
February 13, 2020
7 Romantic YA Favorites
Need a romantic read? These are some of my YA favorites. Some of these were big hits and some and underdogs but they're ALL FABULOUS! In each case the incredible writing drew me in. And--bonus--they're all romantic.
19 Love Stories by David Levithan. I don’t ever choose short stories but these are so good that this book is the exception which proves the rule! Don’t miss it.
Graffiti Moon by Cath Crowley. This Australian gem won award after award in Australia but is underappreciated in the states. It's artsy and romantic and just plain great.
I'll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson. This one was on all the "best of" lists for 2014, so I read it early this year. And...wow! So good. The writing is just killer. I could just roll around in this book's prose.
Boy Most Likely To by Huntley Fitzpatrick. Gah, Tim! You scene-stealer from the last book! I love you. And how does Ms. Fitzpatrick put young children into these books without every stepping over the too-cute-for-believability line? She's genius.
What Happens Next by Colleen Clayton. This is such a powerful book about a scary thing, but it's so, so well done. And with a swoony romance as the B story. I loved it.
The Fix by Natasha Sinel. This one is new, and awesome. The author just nails the voice and a tough subject, too. It's one of the best YA books I read in 2015.
All The Truth That's In Me by Julie Berry. This is an achingly good historical novel by someone who understands yearning on a soul-deep level. Even if historical is not your thing, don't miss it.
February 6, 2020
This is not a drill! Epic is coming to audio, ebook and paperback!
You heard that right! The Wesmie novella is arriving in days!
A short story in the USA Today bestselling HIM / US world!
Jamie and Wes are having a blast living and working in Toronto. Until a scout for another team swoops in to make one of them an offer that could complicate the life they've built together.
FAQ about Epic!Q: Where can I get it!A: Everywhere! These are the links we have so far, with more to come next week: Audible | Apple | Nook Q: Is this a full book?A: Not even close! It’s an 11,000 word short story, or 1:07 in audio format.Q: How much does it cost?A: It’s .99 in ebook form, or $5.99 in paperback. The audio price is set by Audible.Q: Will it be in the Escape package? Will it be whispersynched? A: We don’t know! This is all up to Audible, who produced the audio book. Whatever you see at Audible is what we see, too. Thank you for understanding.Q: KU?A: Nope, sorry. Our readers at other platforms deserve Wesmie, too!Q: Please tell me the narrators are Teddy Hamilton and Jacob Morgan!A: Yes! Our favorite narrators are back! We can’t wait to hear this one, too! Q: Have I read this before?A: This novella briefly appeared in the Christmas in the City anthology! You may have read it there.Q: Are you going to write more about Wesmie?A: Probably not! We love these guys but we have other things to write, too. Thank you for reading!January 27, 2020
Now Live: Heartland!
Welcome back to Vermont!
An emotional friends to lovers romance full of risky secrets and late-night lessons in seduction.
Dylan is my best friend, and the only person in my life who understands me. He doesn’t mind my social awkwardness or my weird history. The only glitch? He doesn’t know that I’ve been hopelessly, desperately in love with him since the first day we picked apples together in his family’s orchard.
But I know better than to confess.
Now that I’ve joined him at college, I’m seeing a new side of him. This Dylan drinks and has a lot of sex.
None of it with me.
Until the moment I foolishly ask him to tutor me in more than algebra…and he actually says yes.
One crazy night sets our friendship on fire. But now my heart lies in ashes, and nothing will ever be the same again.
Heartland is a standalone college romance set in the True North world. Expect: a young, broody farmer, a giant crush, tasty caramels, cute goats and late night confessions.
Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Nook | Google
Have you heart the news? The audio’s narrated by Lee Samuels and Erin Mallon
And it’s now live!
Click here to get Heartland in AudioWant to hear a sample from Heartland? Click here!
January 24, 2020
First Chapter Friday: Heartland
Chapter OneChastity
“Please be careful, Chastity. Don’t drink anything that doesn’t come from a sealed bottle—unless Dylan is the one who pours it for you.”
“I’ll be careful, Leah,” I reply. But at the same time I roll my eyes in the mirror where I’m giving myself a last-minute once-over before I leave for my first college party.
The dormitory phone has a long curly cord that stretches just far enough into the bathroom. So I can listen to all Leah’s worries and check my look at the same time.
Squinting at my reflection, I button the second button on my blouse. But then I unbutton it again. I want to look attractive, but I don’t need my top to shout: HERE ARE MY BOOBS FOR YOUR PERUSAL.
It’s a fine line.
“Don’t go into the basement,” Leah says. “That’s where all the bad ideas happen.”
“What kind of bad ideas?” I ask, perking up. I don’t remember Dylan’s house on Spruce Street even having a finished basement. But if it did, I’d probably go into it, in spite of Leah’s warning. I’m more interested in bad ideas than anyone seems to understand. And I always have been. It’s just that my life hasn’t afforded much opportunity to try them out.
“Just be careful. Trust your gut. There are men who would get you drunk or high just to take advantage of you.”
“I’ll be very careful,” I promise, just because it’s the fastest way to end this conversation.
Leah means well. She’s only nine years older than I am, but she considers herself my guardian. Two years ago—when I was nineteen—I ran away from the cult where we both grew up.
I owe her a lot. She took me in, no questions asked, even though we’re only distant cousins. Leah cares about me and my future, which is a lot more than I can say about my actual parents. If I’d stayed on the Paradise Ranch I’d be married by now to a fifty-year-old man with four other wives.
Sometimes when people hear this story they say we have a “colorful history.” But it’s just the opposite. It wasn’t colorful at all; it was really drab. And that’s why I’m standing here in a burgundy silk blouse I bought secondhand and a pair of tight jeans that would have earned me a beating at the compound.
Leah bought me my first pair of jeans two years ago. I’d put them on immediately, feeling very defiant. Then I’d looked in the mirror and thought: whore. Because that’s what they used to call me.
I still hear their voices in my head sometimes. I was a whore to them. And all because I kissed a boy.
“Are you coming home this weekend?” Leah asks. By home she means her farm in Tuxbury, which is about an hour’s drive from the university in Burlington.
“I think so?” I uncap my only tube of tinted lip gloss and touch up my lips in the mirror.
“Did you tell Dylan your idea?”
“Not yet.” And that’s one of the reasons I’m going to this party at his house.
It’s Wednesday, when we have a standing tutoring date. But today he didn’t show. I don’t have a cell phone, which is probably why I didn’t hear from him. He must have called the land line while I was out.
Dylan is a little flighty, but he’s a good friend. He hasn’t missed a Wednesday yet. That hour of the week is a double-edged sword for me. I love spending time with Dylan. But algebra. Oof. It’s not my forte. I spend the whole time trying not to look either stupid or heartsick, with varying degrees of success.
I’m probably failing at the first thing, but Dylan has no idea how I feel about him, and I plan to keep it that way.
“I hope Dylan likes your idea,” Leah says. “It’s got a lot of potential. And the kitchen is wide open on Friday and Saturday nights. Nobody ever wants to claim those hours.” Leah makes fancy cheeses, but it’s a seasonal business. So she rents out the commercial kitchen in her creamery to other businesses during the winter months.
“If Dylan wants in, he’ll pick Saturday,” I tell her. “Fridays are reserved for his awful girlfriend.”
“Shhh!” Leah hisses. “Won’t she hear you?”
“No. She’s not here.” The biggest mistake of my college career—all four weeks of it—was asking Dylan to help me carry my things into the dormitory on move-in day.
I hadn’t even asked, come to think of it. He’d volunteered. He’d driven me to school in his old truck and brought me to the housing office to pick up my keys.
And I’d been so, so grateful. Right up until Dylan carried my one box into the dormitory. I’d been so nervous I’d felt like throwing up, but Dylan had whistled a happy tune as he led me down the hallway to suite 302.
“Open ’er up,” he’d said kindly. “Let’s see if the housing gods were kind.”
They weren’t. I mean—the suite is fine. My twin bed is in a separate room from Kaitlyn’s twin bed. We share a bathroom that’s just ours. I have a desk and a dresser and a window. I can’t complain.
I’d been hoping to be paired with a roommate who would also be a friend, but Kaitlyn had been instantly chilly to me. She’d barely glanced in my direction.
She had not, however, dismissed Dylan. You know that expression—“her eyes lit up”? Well, I’ve never seen anyone so obviously and instantly in lust. She was like a cartoon character with hearts in her eyes.
“Is this your brother?” she’d asked.
“Just about,” Dylan had said with a chuckle. “We live on neighboring farms.”
“That’s so sweet,” she’d gushed.
And then, as I’d put my meager possessions away, she’d chatted him up. I learned all about her life in Manhattan and her troubles at Barnard College, wherever that is. “There was a dalliance with a professor,” she’d said with a sigh. “It didn’t end well. My family is horrified.” She’d given him a sexy grin. “So here I am, banished to the hinterlands to finish school.”
“Welcome to Moo U,” Dylan had said with a slow smile. “It’s not New York City, but we have other kinds of fun.”
The very next day she’d asked me for his phone number. “I had a question about which dry cleaner to use. He said to ask him anything.”
“I’d be stunned if Dylan ever had anything dry cleaned,” I’d said. But I gave her the number, anyway.
Big mistake.
The following week she didn’t come home at all on two different nights. At first I thought this was a terrific development. I loved having our suite to myself. But then, just as I was crossing the center of campus and congratulating myself on figuring out a shortcut to the math department, I’d seen them. Kaitlyn had been standing under a tree with Dylan. And then he’d leaned in and kissed her.
No—that isn’t even an accurate description. He practically devoured her right there between classes in broad daylight. I’ve never walked away from anything faster in my life.
Three weeks later, and I’m still not over it. I already knew Dylan had a lot of sex. His twin sister refers to him as “the family slut.” There are always girls from his high school class hanging around the Shipley farm, riding shotgun in his truck. I’m always jealous of those girls.
But Kaitlyn? Just the idea of her with Dylan makes me insane. It doesn’t matter if I express that aloud, either. Kaitlyn is almost certainly at Dylan’s house right now. If it turns out that he spent our tutoring hours with her instead of me, that will sting.
But Dylan will make it up to me. He really is a good friend.
“Let me know how it goes,” Leah says. “I’d better go and put Maeve to bed. I can hear her begging Isaac for another story.”
“Kiss her goodnight for me,” I say. “I’ll call you about the weekend. I’ll let you know if we need to use the kitchen Saturday night.”
“Have fun tonight, Chass. Just be—”
“—careful. I know, Leah. I will.”
We hang up. I give myself one more glance in the mirror, then I grab my backpack and leave the little suite behind.
I hurry down two flights of stairs, heading for the dormitory exit. It’s already dark outside, and I can see my reflection in the glass door. My backpack strap has tugged the silk blouse aside, revealing a tiny glimpse of my bra.
I stop suddenly to fix it, and that’s when somebody plows into my back.
We let out twin shrieks.
“Sorry!” I yelp, turning around.
“No, that was totally my fault,” the other girl babbles. Her name is Ellie, I think. We’re in the same English class. She holds the door open for me. “Your outfit looks fine, by the way. Stop fussing with that collar.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“Going on a date? Kinda fancy for a Wednesday night.” We’re heading in the same direction down the sidewalk. “I’m going to the library, because I’m fun like that.”
“Oh, I already spent four hours there,” I assure her. I don’t tell her that I spent all that time waiting for Dylan Shipley to show up for tutoring. “I’m going to a party off campus.”
“Really,” Ellie says, grinning. She has a mouth full of braces. Aren’t those just for kids? It’s been two years since I left the cult where I grew up, but there are still a lot of things that baffle me. Twenty-four months isn’t a long time to learn how the entire world works. “You have fun. I’ll be trying to understand Aristotle.”
“Cool.” I don’t know what Aristotle is, either.
She reaches for my hand and tugs it away from the second button of my blouse, which I’m fingering. “Don’t fidget. That’s how buttons come off.”
“Right. But—” I hesitate. “Is this too much?” I wave a hand in front of my chest.
“Too much what? Too much hotness? No. If I had boobs, I’d wear them proudly. Whoever it is you’re trying to impress is going to love it.” She gives me a wave and trots away toward the library. “Have fun!” she calls over her shoulder.
I keep walking, still feeling uncertain. Going to Dylan’s house right now is probably a mistake. I don’t know why he blew off our tutoring session today. It isn’t like him. On the other hand, he has a lot on his plate. And I’m the one who doesn’t have a cell phone.
It’s not Dylan’s fault that I sat there in the library from four until seven thirty, missing dinner like a dummy. But I’ve always been a little dumb when it comes to Dylan.
My stomach had been rumbling by the time I’d given up on him. On my way home, I’d paused outside the convenience store, wondering what a girl could buy for two dollars. Only candy, really. I hadn’t bought anything, but I had bumped into Dylan’s roommate, a character named Rickie.
“Chastity!” he’d exclaimed, coming out of the store with a bag full of various kinds of chips in one hand and a bag of ice in the other. “What’s up, lady? You coming over later?”
“For…?” I’d only been to their house once before. It’s out of the way, which is why Dylan always meets me on campus.
“The party! Didn’t Dylan tell you?”
He did not. But I hadn’t let it show on my face. “I didn’t catch Dylan today,” I’d told him. “Do you happen to know where he went?”
“Home to Tuxbury,” Rickie had said. “Shit, Chastity. He said he was going to call you. The goats got loose and ate something they weren’t supposed to.”
“Oh no!”
“Yeah. He got a call and there was yelling, and then Dylan got in the truck and went home. But he’s back at nine for the party. Come over. I’m making mulled cider and guacamole.”
My stomach had gurgled, and the decision had seemed easy.
But now, as I trudge uphill toward the old Victorian house where Dylan lives with Rickie and another guy named Keith, I’m questioning all my life choices. I’ll probably have to make conversation with strangers, which isn’t my strong suit.
Or they’ll just ignore me, which also sounds bleak.
And then there’s my algebra homework which is in my backpack still incomplete. If I turn up now, Dylan is only going to feel guilty for missing our session.
There are two things powering me uphill, though. The first is guacamole. I’d never seen an avocado until I became a nineteen-year-old runaway to Vermont, and I’d been seriously missing out. The second thing is morbid curiosity. In the four weeks since I came to Burlington U, I’ve had only glimpses of College Dylan. And I want to know more.
The Dylan I know from Tuxbury is Family Dylan. He milks goats and cows. He whistles in the orchard while picking apples. He takes off his shirt to stack hay. He eats third helpings at the dinner table. He spars with his siblings and takes his mother to church.
And? He’s a good friend to me.
College Dylan is different, though. And—fine—even more intoxicating. College Dylan drinks and smokes pot and has (from what I can guess) a lot of sex. Some of it with my evil roommate.
None of it with me.
Get Heartland at: Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Nook | AudioJanuary 22, 2020
You need this terrific giveaway in your life!
January 17, 2020
First Chapter: Audio Edition
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Listen for free. No signup required
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Coming on January 28Narration by Erin Mallon and Lee SamuelsAt Audible
