About The Book
Sweet Memories started as something of a challenge. First, and foremost, to try and write a modern Romance in the Contemporary mode that still mostly followed the traditional elements. Not so much the popular so-called tradition set out in the 1970s, but the true traditions set out by Jane Austen particularly in Pride & Prejudice and William Shakespeare with Much Ado About Nothing.
The setting is a bit of an odd brew of small-town elements and stereotypes, most of them based on real places, that have never really existed in quite that combination. Many of the elements intentionally lampooned or exaggerated. Hopefully giving the reader a sense of the familiar, despite some of the elements being a little bit odd in context.
BLURB
Following the sudden death of her beloved older sister, big city girl Astra Read relocates to a tiny town fuelled by cottage industries, inheriting her sister’s old house and business, a bespoke teddy bear workshop.
Focused on doing her dearly departed proud, which are some big shoes to fill, Astra vows to keep her head down, but love works in mysterious ways and more than one sort of temptation lurks in the bakery across the street.
BUY LINK
Coming November 10 to Extasy Books:
https://www.extasybooks.com/Sweet-Memories
Excerpt
A summer breeze eased by soothing her mind. Thermostats rarely lied, especially those decorated with adorable
“Seriously, Daisy?” Astra asked.
Parking the classic Beetle which had already seen more action than the average warhorse, she set out in search of a general store, or wherever it was that ice cream could be scooped, in her new one coffee shop town. Moving freely among the cozy charismatic cottage industries, a selection of adorable denizens at the teddy bear maker’s peered pleadingly through the front window, as Astra spied a most improbable sign.
Round and wooden, the words were cut into the ancient fibre before being painted in with high-gloss white, standing out against the dark hickory. In impressively straight and legible the simple statement General Store.
Attached to the front of a blue and red rancher, the frontage also boasted a rendering of a three-scoop ice cream cone, giving the impression of actually melting as she watched.
The light shifted from bright to slightly less, making Astra blink. Impeccably arranged, the shop held a little bit of everything, each to its own minuscule section-sometimes limited to half a shelf. Cereal and cookies ran into condiments and napkins, as fruit juice and butter mingled more or less freely with eggs and milk in the cooler, the prices strikingly low despite the basic lack of competition.
“Goodness, you must be new,” the lone clerk said.
“Yes,” Astra said.
“Need some ice cream, dear?”
“Yes, please.”
Following at half speed, Astra was shown to the dedicated counter boasting twenty-seven flavours of ice cream under the glass.
“What’s your pleasure, dear?”
“Maple Walnut, please.”
Bent low in the cool, the clerk jerked with the best of them, hauling heaping scoops into the ready waffle cone. The stack of sweet relief duly handed over.
“Three-fifty,” quoth the clerk.
Things were done differently in the country, especially a tourist town far from the main highways. GPS had been nearly useless finding the way, a retro fit as it was, the directions having her driving into cow fields, not unusual in those parts, and up at least one logging road en route to her new home.
“Thank you,” Astra said.
“There’s plenty of shade if you’re looking for a break.”
“Where?”
“Out back.”
The clerk’s thumb crooked to the rear door. A metal and screen contraption, to keep the bugs at bay, it gave an enticing preview of the epic backyard.
“Okay, thanks.”
Not quite a porch the back had been done up with similar furniture. On the other side of the house from the sun, the spot proved to be very shady indeed. Easing into a comfortable seat, Astra let herself luxuriate as the system rebooted from default. Down to the final two crunches of cone, something like sanity returned to the world.
Strength restored to pre-trip conditions; the notion of groceries occurred. Unsticking from the chair that had almost become part of her, Astra found her feet, still in her stylish sneakers where she left them.
Author Bio:
Born in the Far North, T.S. McNeil grew up on novels and comedy movies.
Moving down south, he earned a degree in Art History in 2009 and has been writing in some way since the age of 8. Discovering the legit jokes in Four Weddings and A Funeral, realizing Romance could be funny, he took on Romantic Comedy as his main genre.
He lives in a cabin in the woods with his dog and several squirrels, and firmly believes that The Smiths would have been better as trio.
