Fellow readers, I want to share a book with you that I've been really excited about! PATCHES OF RED by Liz Flaherty released earlier this month. It's Contemporary Women's Fiction that's been "wrapped around a love story". This story is a part of Ms. Flaherty's Color Series, which started with PIECES OF BLUE.
She's visiting us this week to tell us more about this wonderful book!
She's visiting us this week to tell us more about this wonderful book!
 | He’s handsome but can’t even remember her name. She’s pretty, but her finickiness drives him crazy. Ellie Wentz is tired. Her life has been full, good, fun, and … did I say full? She’s been a daughter, a wife, and a mom. She’s always worked, always been busy, and never been bored. But now she’s fifty-three, and she might be feeling the life is passing me by itch that sometimes attacks when it’s least expected. So she quits her job, sells her house, and goes to Harper Loch to visit her best friend until she decides what to do next. What comes next is Jess Grant, who forgets her name and whose feelings and hers begin to tingle in a way that’s both delicious and worrisome. A quilt shop is for sale. Her father’s death leaves more questions than it does answers. And who’s shooting guns out there? |
Patches of Red - Excerpt
“I hope you didn’t mind that I—” She looked up to get out of the man’s way and to finally meet his eyes.
The most gorgeous green eyes she’d ever seen. They had little flecks of brown in them, and she’d bet if he wore a brown shirt, they’d would look hazel even though they weren’t. They were pure, mesmerizing jade.
And he wasn’t old. Well, the grandkids would think he was, but what did they know? She hoped her jaw didn’t drop, as it would add jowls to her already slightly double chin. But Jesse Grant was definitely worthy of jaw-dropping and jowls.
He was probably an inch or two over six feet, with darkish brown hair and a short, neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. A small gold stud twinkled from his left ear and a thin scar ran around his jawline from his earlobe to his chin. It made him look … dangerous.
She was finding danger in a guy wearing a tails-out button down shirt with dark blue shorts and holding a bar towel that proclaimed it was a gift from Bent Twig Brewery. While it was true she was a devoted reader of romantic and women’s fiction novels, she very seldom saw their protagonists in real life. However, other than the towel and what looked like a permanent frown on his face, Jess totally fit the bill.
“How old are you?’ she blurted, because he wasn’t old, and she was still trying to get her mind around that.
“Fifty-six,” he said, the frown deepening. “How old are you?”
“Fifty-three.” It would be fifty-four in a few weeks, but she wasn’t going to hurry into it.
His voice was the culprit. Although it was a nice voice … deep … there was a rustiness to it that lent it more age than it had earned.
“I’ll bet when you sing, you sound like Rod Stewart.” The pie was delicious and the coffee was no less so. Maybe she could eat here all the time once she found a place to live. Not that she had any intention of staying either on the lake or in Placer. She liked both places, but she knew she would miss things like Walmart and Tom’s Food Market, her shopping mainstays.
“More like Rod Stewart’s cat,” said Jess, and she nearly spewed her coffee. She hadn’t expected that response, although she wasn’t surprised by the enduring scowl that went with it.
He stepped away, talking to the men at the bar and uncapping another beer for one of them.
Ellie finished her pie and coffee, then took her dishes back to the kitchen. She was there to be the help, not be waited on. She introduced herself to Nancy, the cook, then went back into the dining room. “See you tomorrow,” she said to Avery, and nodded at Jess.
He nodded back, then gave a short, beckoning whistle that stopped her as she walked away. She turned, frowning. “Yes?”
“What’s your name again?”
“Ellie Wentz.”
“Okay. I’ll have your paperwork in the morning. Do you have any questions?”
“Not now.” She would wait to tell him she wouldn’t always answer to a hey, you whistle. As a matter of fact, she’d just done it for the last time. If she hadn’t been rude enough to ask him how old he was right out of the acquaintance gate, there wouldn’t even have been a first time.
“I hope you didn’t mind that I—” She looked up to get out of the man’s way and to finally meet his eyes.
The most gorgeous green eyes she’d ever seen. They had little flecks of brown in them, and she’d bet if he wore a brown shirt, they’d would look hazel even though they weren’t. They were pure, mesmerizing jade.
And he wasn’t old. Well, the grandkids would think he was, but what did they know? She hoped her jaw didn’t drop, as it would add jowls to her already slightly double chin. But Jesse Grant was definitely worthy of jaw-dropping and jowls.
He was probably an inch or two over six feet, with darkish brown hair and a short, neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. A small gold stud twinkled from his left ear and a thin scar ran around his jawline from his earlobe to his chin. It made him look … dangerous.
She was finding danger in a guy wearing a tails-out button down shirt with dark blue shorts and holding a bar towel that proclaimed it was a gift from Bent Twig Brewery. While it was true she was a devoted reader of romantic and women’s fiction novels, she very seldom saw their protagonists in real life. However, other than the towel and what looked like a permanent frown on his face, Jess totally fit the bill.
“How old are you?’ she blurted, because he wasn’t old, and she was still trying to get her mind around that.
“Fifty-six,” he said, the frown deepening. “How old are you?”
“Fifty-three.” It would be fifty-four in a few weeks, but she wasn’t going to hurry into it.
His voice was the culprit. Although it was a nice voice … deep … there was a rustiness to it that lent it more age than it had earned.
“I’ll bet when you sing, you sound like Rod Stewart.” The pie was delicious and the coffee was no less so. Maybe she could eat here all the time once she found a place to live. Not that she had any intention of staying either on the lake or in Placer. She liked both places, but she knew she would miss things like Walmart and Tom’s Food Market, her shopping mainstays.
“More like Rod Stewart’s cat,” said Jess, and she nearly spewed her coffee. She hadn’t expected that response, although she wasn’t surprised by the enduring scowl that went with it.
He stepped away, talking to the men at the bar and uncapping another beer for one of them.
Ellie finished her pie and coffee, then took her dishes back to the kitchen. She was there to be the help, not be waited on. She introduced herself to Nancy, the cook, then went back into the dining room. “See you tomorrow,” she said to Avery, and nodded at Jess.
He nodded back, then gave a short, beckoning whistle that stopped her as she walked away. She turned, frowning. “Yes?”
“What’s your name again?”
“Ellie Wentz.”
“Okay. I’ll have your paperwork in the morning. Do you have any questions?”
“Not now.” She would wait to tell him she wouldn’t always answer to a hey, you whistle. As a matter of fact, she’d just done it for the last time. If she hadn’t been rude enough to ask him how old he was right out of the acquaintance gate, there wouldn’t even have been a first time.
REVIEWS FOR PATCHES OF RED
“Patches of Red is a brilliant blend of women’s fiction and slow burn romance that opens hearts, rearranges families, but ultimately brings them together in a deeply satisfying way. People deserve the best life has to offer and readers will find what they seek in Patches of Red. Loved this book!” – Author Bonnie Edwards
“This slow--burn story will warm your heart. With her special gift for finding the exact right words to tell a story, Flaherty once again makes us believe in second chances and true love!” – Author Nan Reinhardt
“Readers get to meet Ellie and Jesse’s family members and neighbors, who are unique, relatable, and feel like friends. The setting is a charming place we’d all like to visit—or maybe live in … Snuggle up with this book for an escape from your every day. Just know that once you become familiar with its diner, walks along the lake, and the quilting ladies, you’ll be reluctant to leave. – Author Cathy Shouse
“This book gave me "all the feels," which included shedding a few good tears. It combines the depth of women's fiction with the sweetness of a romance. I love that it shows that family life can be messy, and that that's OK.” – Author R. M. Brooks
“This slow--burn story will warm your heart. With her special gift for finding the exact right words to tell a story, Flaherty once again makes us believe in second chances and true love!” – Author Nan Reinhardt
“Readers get to meet Ellie and Jesse’s family members and neighbors, who are unique, relatable, and feel like friends. The setting is a charming place we’d all like to visit—or maybe live in … Snuggle up with this book for an escape from your every day. Just know that once you become familiar with its diner, walks along the lake, and the quilting ladies, you’ll be reluctant to leave. – Author Cathy Shouse
“This book gave me "all the feels," which included shedding a few good tears. It combines the depth of women's fiction with the sweetness of a romance. I love that it shows that family life can be messy, and that that's OK.” – Author R. M. Brooks
 | Biography: Liz Flaherty Liz Flaherty thinks one of the things that keeps you young when you quite obviously aren’t anymore is the constant chances you have to reinvent yourself. Her latest professional incarnation is as a fledgling women’s fiction author and she is enjoying every minute that she’s not scared to death. Website: https://www.lizflaherty.net/ Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lizkflaherty Amazon page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Liz-Flaherty/author/B001J919R4 |
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