Showing posts with label Misty Simon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Misty Simon. Show all posts

Friday, March 1, 2019

Misty Simon shares her #NewRelease - LIV AND BREATHE

Misty Simon is my guest today with her latest contemporary romance LIV AND BREATHE, published by The Wild Rose Press. I'm happy to offer a sneak peak. Welcome, Misty!



Blurb:

Olivia Jameson runs a summer camp called Breathe, giving inner-city kids a chance to see a different life. When the man who owned the camp died, leaving his dream to his son, Liv took charge, and the work means the world to her.

As far as Alex Campbell is concerned, the camp is a hands-off tax write-off. But when Liv calls because her boys are accused of property damage, Alex returns to the place he hasn't called home since age twelve…and to a girl he barely remembers, now a woman who stirs him like no city sophisticates ever have.

This is Liv's livelihood, her mission, her dream. Sharing it with a man who doesn't understand the impact is frustrating. But as he begins learning truths that were hidden from him, both Liv and Alex may have a change of heart. Can Liv open up her life one more time to love?

Excerpt:

The clink and clatter of silverware in the busy diner did nothing to block out the thoughts churning through Olivia Jameson’s head. She had made the call earlier this morning, and now she would have to live with the consequences. Hoping she’d survive the experience, she had her doubts it would be easy.

“What can I get you, hon?” Betty, the owner of Petri’s Dish, asked with pad and pencil in hand.

“Just coffee.” At the thought of the storm she may have created, Liv’s shoulders drooped.

Betty’s eyes narrowed behind her thick glasses. “Tell me what’s wrong. You never just order coffee, especially when I have my pineapple salsa pancakes on the Specials board.” Her hand went to her hip, while her expression became mutinous. “So you’re not still worrying about that little ruckus over at the Beckham farm, are you? I told you it would all blow over.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t blowing over. In fact, it had just gotten a whole lot bigger. “They’re pressing charges.” It was as simple and as complicated as that.

“What?” Bustling around the counter, Betty plopped down on the stool next to Liv. A crowd began to gather the second she did. She never sat down for anything, not even when she wasn’t working. “You better tell me what in the world is going on, right now.”

No matter what she said or did at this point, Liv knew the entire story was going to come out soon enough. Such was life in a community their size. Sometimes she wished she lived in Kissinger, the next town over, where everyone seemed to mind their own business.

She might as well take a chance and tell her side before Mr. High and Mighty came rolling into town—if he could unglue himself from his society life long enough to take any interest.

“Some boys in town say they saw my boys over in Beckham’s pastures trying to tip over cows. When these town kids came along, they said they spooked the camp boys, who took off running. According to the accusers, that’s how the fence was broken and how the alpacas got out and ran away. Beckham still hasn’t found two of them.”

By this time, there was a solid crowd of about twenty people hemming Liv and Betty in at the counter. As much as Liv appreciated the looks of outrage for her camp boys, and for the situation in general, she didn’t blame the Beckhams for pressing charges. Especially with the graffiti Mr. Beckham had told her was spray-painted on the side of his barn.

She just couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that her boys would do something so destructive when they knew the consequences and the punishment for not toeing the line.

“I don’t believe it,” Betty declared, and had the majority of the other people agreeing with her both verbally and by nodding their heads. “There’s no way the boys at Breathe would jeopardize their time here by doing something so stupid.”

Liv would have said the same thing to her boss, Alex Campbell, this morning if he’d picked up his phone. Instead she’d left him a message asking him to please come to the farm, and she’d explain when he got here. It would be far better to handle this face to face. That way she could plead the case for her boys and make him understand more easily than she could convey over email. She didn’t want him here, but she wasn’t able to figure out a way to avoid it.

“I agree,” Liv said to the diner at large, but worry still pulled her eyebrows together. “The problem is how do I prove it? I don’t want to accuse anyone else, and I can’t prove without a shadow of a doubt that the boys were all in their beds last night. Not even David. This is a huge mess, just in time for the annual cook-off.”

“Don’t you worry about the cook-off,” Tim from the mechanic’s shop said. “That’s all taken care of, except for a few details. We’ll figure something out with the boys, too. I’m coming there today to work on that car with them. I’ll ask some questions that maybe you can’t ask.”

There was a chorus of agreement while people all went their separate ways. She really appreciated the support, but who was going to be there when Mr. Campbell came riding in to shut down the camp because she wasn’t doing a good job as the director? She couldn’t—and wouldn’t—lose Breathe, a camp that had been around for almost eighty years. It housed underprivileged boys from major cities over the summer, giving them a chance to see real grass and real cows, to ride horses and learn skills and self-worth that would hopefully keep them out of gangs and make them productive members of society.

Buy Link:

https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/paperback-books/6488-liv-and-breathe-paperback.html

Author Bio:


Misty Simon always wanted to be a storyteller…preferably behind a Muppet. Animal was number one, followed closely by Sherlock Hemlock… Since that dream didn’t come true, she began writing stories to share her world with readers, one laugh at a time. She knows how to hula, was classically trained to sing opera, co-wrote her high school Alma Mater, and can’t touch raw wood. Never hand her a Dixie cup with that wooden spoon/paddle thing. It’s not pretty.


Touching people’s hearts and funny bones are two of her favorite things, and she hopes everyone at least snickers in the right places when reading her books. She lives with her husband, daughter, and two insane dogs in Central Pennsylvania where she is hard at work on her next novel or three. She loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at misty@mistysimon.com.


Misty's Social Media Links:


Website: www.mistysimon.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/misty.simon.18

Friday, June 8, 2018

Misty Simon Answers 5 Quick Questions

Today's guest is Misty Simon and she's my first guest to participate in a new feature on my blog called "Quick 5". Answer five quick questions and we'll learn so much more about you. She's also going to tell us about her Tallie Graver mystery GROUNDS FOR REMORSE. Welcome to my blog, Misty!


Quick 5 from Misty Simon - 

- Favorite color? Purple, so much purple!
- Coffee or tea? All the tea!
- Pie or cake? What kind? Bring me cake :) Anything with chocolate and/or peanut butter
- Party life or quiet dinner for two? Quiet dinner for two on most nights but I do like the party sometimes.
- I'm always ready for (fill in the blank). An opportunity to talk with people and make connections. I love hearing other people's stories and especially talking to random strangers.


Blurb for GROUNDS FOR REMORSE:

No more cheating . . .

Best friends Tallie Graver and Gina Laudermilch both seem to spend a lot of time around urns. For Tallie, they’re part and parcel of the family business, Graver’s Funeral Home. Even though she’s traded ashes for dusting with her own cleaning business, she still works part-time for her folks and lives above the funeral parlor. For Gina, they’re the vessels that contain her heavenly brew at her coffee shop, Bean There, Done That. And both women are learning that owning a business can make finding time for romance challenging.

But when Gina’s new beau turns out to have a wife, who barges into the coffee shop to take him home, she can’t contain her bitterness and loudly threatens to poison his cup or boil him in vat of coffee. So when Mr. Wrong turns up dead at the bottom of a staircase inside Gina’s locked home, she finds herself at the top of the police’s suspect list. Tallie needs to sweep in to save her friend. But she’ll need to watch her step, or she may go from being a funeral home employee to becoming their next client . . .

Excerpt: 

After taking out my phone, I texted her to let her know the Lothario was here and she should get her ass downstairs, pronto.

She texted back with one of those overly long strings of emoticons involving all kinds of hearts and little yellow faces blowing kisses, clapping hands and a cupid. God, I hoped this guy was not going to end up being a loser.

I was half tempted to walk over to his table just to block him from any other admiring female eyes when Gina burst through the swinging door at the back, cutting off that thought. She practically floated to the table with a beaming smile on her face. Her black hair was perfectly coiffed, red lipstick shone on her lips and she was dressed in her best outfit.

My hope that this guy was not a jerk, and that my intuition was off, rose exponentially. She was invested, and as her best friend, I was then invested, too.

Scooting his chair back, he stood, taking her in from head to toe in a way that spoke volumes. She was lovely, and he’d better appreciate that, along with her good heart and her generous ways. Or I’d tackle him to the ground myself.

After walking around the table to kiss her on the cheek, he moved her chair out and motioned her into it. Only then did he hand her the roses. Nicely done, in my opinion.

I deliberately let my bad feelings dissipate as I headed back to Mama Shirley and her stellar coffee-pouring skills.

“Think this one’s a keeper?” I grabbed the rag on the end of the counter and pretended to clean a spot that was already shiny. This was Gina’s fourth guy in as many months. The rest had been wrong for her in one way or another. I had my doubts that this one was any better.

He was a smooth talker, though. I was close enough to hear what Gina and Craig cooed at each other. Some of his lines were definitely swoon-worthy, I’d give him that. I wouldn’t have fallen for them, of course, but he did have good delivery and perfect timing. I’d give him that, too.

“I don’t know.” Mama Shirley interrupted my critique of Craig’s game. She scrunched up her face and my stomach clenched.

“Should I have told her to stay upstairs?” I whispered.

“I don’t know that, either. I can’t quite get a bead on this one, and I’m usually pretty good with that kind of thing. Something might be off, or I might just not be ready to lose my baby to a man.”

“Well, it’s early days, right?” I leaned back against the counter so Gina couldn’t see my face. “I’m just not sure, though.”

Mama looked at me out of the corner of her eye and barely moved her mouth when she said, “Time will tell.”

“Fair enough.” I tossed the rag into the sink and reached for the nearest napkin dispenser when the front door crashed open.

“You bitch!”

I spun around to find out who was making such an entrance and who they were directing it at.
A flurry of brown hair and flying elbows came across the polished wood floor as the woman went after Gina, tipping her chair back and going for the eyes. In a flash, I was behind my best friend and saved her from falling over completely and crashing to the floor. But it took precious seconds, and I wasn’t able to stop whoever this was from grabbing Gina by her perfectly coiffed hair.

Mama Shirley was faster than she’d probably ever been. Rolling pin in hand and the hounds of fury in her eyes, she wedged herself between the woman and Gina, practically sitting in Gina’s lap. Mama brandished her rolling pin at the woman and yelled what sounded like a war cry.

My ears hurt and I winced. Gina came by her volume honestly.

“You’d better back off,” I chimed in, trying to get the woman’s hand to loosen in Gina’s hair.

“I will bean you so hard, you’re gonna see stars,” Mama Shirley added.

That was apparently enough to get the woman to let go. She took a few steps back, her double Ds heaving and her nostrils flaring.

Who was this person?


Author bio:


Misty Simon loves a good story and decided one day that she would try her hand at it. Eventually she got it right. There’s nothing better in the world than making someone laugh, and she hopes everyone at least snickers in the right places when reading her books. She lives with her husband, daughter and three insane dogs in Central Pennsylvania where she is hard at work on her next novel or three. She loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at misty@mistysimon.com

Author Links:

http://www.mistysimon.com

https://www.facebook.com/misty.simon.18


Buy links:

https://www.amazon.com/Grounds-Remorse-Tallie-Graver-Mystery/dp/1496712234

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/grounds-for-remorse-misty-simon/1127062580?ean=9781496712233#/


Available wherever books are sold.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Misty Simon is in the Spotlight!

Fellow Wild Rose Press author Misty Simon is my Book Spotlight guest today. The fourth book in her Ivy Morris Mystery series, HOEDOWN SHOWDOWN, has just released. The other three books in the series are FRAME AND FORTUNE, POISON IVY, and  THE WRONG DRAWERS. Please welcome Misty Simon!


Ivy Morris Mysteries – Hoedown Showdown

With the Tasty Tomato Tournament just days away, the small town of Martha’s Point is all abuzz. This is the first year without a sure winner, and the competition is fierce to gain the judges’ approval, even before the tournament starts.

But when Ivy finds one of those judges dead in a shed across the street, things go from bad to worse. All she wanted was seven glorious, kid-free days of messing around with her husband. Instead, she’s going to be tracking down a killer, staying out of the way of a pickle-obsessed farmer, and dodging the new cop who seems out for her blood.

Rating: Spicy

Excerpt:

“Myrt,” I said patiently, as if talking to a small child. “First of all, this wasn’t the tomato crusher. It was Judge McIntyre.”

I didn’t even get to the next part since she started wailing. “Oh, my stars! I’m never going to win the Tasty Tomato Tournament now! It’s the fiftieth anniversary, and I wanted at least one chance before I die! And now I will never win this! I’ll be a dead woman long before I can ever show my face again in the tournament! And this was supposed to be my year!”

Not only was that a lot of exclamation points, but she also dragged the last word out until it sounded like a cat dying. I tried to calm her down by settling my hand on her shoulder. She shook me off while dropping her cane at her feet. With a ton of creaks and cracks, she knelt down beside him and started babbling about how sorry she was.

“I don’t think you should touch him.” I said this while definitely keeping my distance. I did not want to touch him more than I already had. To be honest, it had been some time since I was involved in anything more than feeding and playing with my kids or running my store and being a wife.
Occasionally I would help Ben with a case or two in his work as a private investigator, but it was more paperwork than anything else. I did not want to even know what had happened to the judge, much less who had done it. Ben was not going to be pleased. At all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. McIntyre,” Myrt said with her face close to his, her hand patting his chest. There was a crinkling noise, but she was still talking. “So very sorry. When Irma died last year in her sleep after winning her forty-ninth straight tournament, I thought I finally had a chance, and now I hit you, and I’m so very, very sorry, and I can’t believe I mistook you for a burglar.” She twisted her hands together like she was wringing out a dishtowel. And she was going to draw blood if she continued biting her lip in between babbling some more.

I had few choices right now. I have to admit here that I had no desire whatsoever to call the police. I didn’t want to be involved in things. I had plans this week. This was not going to keep me from swinging from the freaking chandelier if I could.

Of course, I could go across the street and call from the house, or have Ben call and then remove myself from the situation altogether. But that would be completely unfair to Mrs. Crandall.

I couldn’t help myself. I let out a scream that would have brought down an opera house, something between frustration and fright because, at that moment, something furry ran against my leg before shooting into the bushes.

In the end, the decision of what to do was taken out of my hands because the police came tearing up in the one marked car in town, screeching to a halt at the curb. A man in uniform was out of the car before I could blink again. And I’m glad I didn’t blink because I would have missed the way he jumped from the car and then did a forward roll across the front lawn as if he was in some crazy-assed shootout.

You can find me on the web at:

Website: www.mistysimon.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/misty.simon.18
Twitter: @MistySimon
Buy Link: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/4892-hoedown-showdown.html

Author bio:

Misty Simon loves a good story and decided one day that she would try her hand at it. Eventually she got it right. There’s nothing better in the world than making someone laugh, and she hopes everyone at least snickers in the right places when reading her books. She lives with her husband, daughter and three insane dogs in Central Pennsylvania where she is hard at work on her next novel or three. She loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at misty@mistysimon.com