Morning my loves! Today I’ve got a few posts for you! First up, is an extract on the blog tour of The Girl Without a Name by Suzanne Goldring…..I can’t wait to read this!
book blurb & info
September 1940. As the bombs of the Blitz fall on London, Ruby and Stevie are falling in love. United by a shocking experience when they were evacuees, Ruby believes that she understands Stevie like nobody else can. But then Stevie is sent abroad into danger and as Ruby waits, desperately, for letters with foreign stamps that never come, she begins to fear that he is lost forever.
August 2004. Billie has rushed to her father Dick’s hospital bedside. A terrible stroke has robbed him of his speech, and he is a shell of the man he was before. But when Billie finds a crumpled black and white photo in his wallet of a smiling, dark-haired girl she doesn’t recognise, Dick frantically tries to talk. Billie knows that he is trying to tell her something important, and she must ask the questions her father cannot. All she has to go on is the name he is just able to mumble. Ruby.
Billie tracks down Ruby’s aunt, her only surviving relative, and learns that Ruby’s life contained great love, but also great tragedy. Billie is determined to find out what happened to this brave woman, last seen leaving her home for a secret weekend away. Why did nobody miss her? And how is she connected to Billie’s beloved father? Can Billie lay the ghosts of the past to rest, even if it means revealing the darkest secrets of her father’s life and breaking her own heart?
A completely compelling and heartbreaking read, this is the story of the courage of a young woman in wartime and another woman’s quest to right the injustices of history. Fans of The Letter and The Nightingale will be hooked on The Girl Without a Name.
Published by: Bookouture on 5th November 2020
Formats Available: Paperback, Audiobook & eBook
Purchase Links: Amazon UK ~ Amazon US ~ Apple ~ Kobo ~ Google
16 August 2004
Dick Stevens, widower, father-of-three and grandfather of more than he can remember, doesn’t normally watch daytime television, but the rain today has driven him indoors. Since he lost Maureen three years ago, his daily routine has revolved around golf or fishing, gardening or the pub. Her death from lung cancer was the trigger he needed to finally give up smoking. Maureen only ever had a ciggie to be ‘sociable’ so it doesn’t seem fair she succumbed to what’s called passive smoking, when he’s puffed away twenty a day for sixty years, ever since he was fourteen. Was it his fault she got a bad chest or was it their love of pub lunches? Every pub he’s ever been to has a welcoming fug of blue smoke and yellowed ceilings. Should be banned, then he wouldn’t sit there with his Daily Mail, trying to breathe in the tempting but now forbidden scent of tobacco when he has his pint.
So these days he’s replaced his filthy habit with other vices.When he walks to the nearby Tesco Express for his daily newspaper, he is always tempted by the newly baked croissants and pains au chocolat, his favourite. Lovely with a fresh cup of coffee. And when his eldest daughter Billie calls in as she does every day, with ready meals or easy-to-cook chops, she nearly always stays for a cuppa and offers him a piece of home-baked lemon drizzle or an iced yum-yum. Him and Billie, they’ve both got a sweet tooth. Hasn’t done either of them any favours. At least the fags helped him keep his weight down. Maureen always told him he’d balloon once he gave them up. He must have put on at least a stone since she went.
Placing a fresh cup of tea on the coffee table next to a new pack of plain chocolate digestives, he settles himself with an indulgent sigh into his most recent purchase, an immensely comfortable, easy-rise reclining armchair, upholstered in brown jumbo cord. A sensible choice, he decided, since he planned to take most of his meals in the chair. Always been a messy eater, he has.
‘Ugly thing,’ Billie said when it was delivered. ‘You won’t catch me letting Kevin have one of those, no matter how relaxing they are. He’d be dozing off in no time.’ But that’s the point, Dick tells himself, thinking of Billie’s stiff leather sofas, so slippery he always fears sliding off and onto her shagpile carpet. If you can’t indulge in a few bad habits by the time you reach your seventies, when can you? He presses the chair’s switch, stretches his legs out on the cushioned extension and sighs with pleasure.
Dick takes a bite of his biscuit and switches on the television, expecting to find a gardening programme, though he’d prefer Homes Under the Hammer, reminding him what a good investment his house is. He keeps the garden tidy, but his expertise is limited to mowing the lawn and clearing leaves from the paths. Maureen was always the one for potting on seedlings in the greenhouse and filling the gaps in the borders with bedding plants. She was so patient and pinched out her sweet peas to achieve long-stemmed flowers that won second place in the Garden Club show the year before she became ill. Dick might not have his late wife’s green fingers, but he enjoys watching others working hard and sometimes thinks he might transform his suburban garden with smart decking or a water feature. That would be soothing, sitting in the sun, when there is any sun, listening to the sound of harmonious trickling.
But the scenes bursting into his sitting room are not calming or inspiring, there is no transformed garden with a cheery Alan Titchmarsh or buxom Charlie Dimmock, no cosy antiques auction, no smug property expert trying to persuade reluctant buyers to make a decision. Instead, the screen is filled with cars floating like corks, a turbulent river tossing a van like a tin toy, a helicopter hovering over roofs and lowering a winch.
about the author
Following an eventful career as a public relations consultant, specialising in business and travel, Suzanne Goldring turned to writing the kind of novels she likes to read, about the extraordinary lives of ordinary people. Whether she is working in her thatched cottage in Hampshire or her seaside home in North Cornwall, Suzanne finds inspiration in the secrets hidden by everyday life.
follow the tour
Thanks to Sarah at Bookouture for inviting me on to the tour, and to Suzanne and Bookouture for sharing an extract with us.
I’ll be back in a while my lovelies!
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