Barbara O'Neal has a new novel to enchant you!
BOOK TOUR AND FEATURE:
Thank you to TLC Book Tours, author Barbara O'Neal, Amazon Publishing and Lake Union Authors for my spot on this tour and beautiful gifted copy!
This book is available now from major book retailers.
I can't wait to dive into this one! I love books that combine several genres, and this one has elements of magical realism, mysteries to unravel, romance, and women's fiction. I can't get enough magical realism lately and this sounds very intriguing!
SYNOPSIS:
An unsuspecting artist uncovers her late mother's secrets and unravels her own hidden past in a beguiling novel by the USA Today bestselling author of When We Believed in Mermaids.
Months after her mother passes away, artist Tillie Morrisey sees a painting in a gallery that leaves her inexplicably lightheaded and unsteady. When a handsome stranger comes to her aid, their connection is so immediate it seems fated, though Liam is only visiting for a few days.
Working on her own art has always been a refuge, but after discovering a document among her mother's belongings that suggests Tillie's life has been a lie, she begins to suffer from a series of fugue states, with memories surfacing that she isn't even sure are her own. As her confusion and grief mount, and prompted by a lead on the painting that started it all, Tillie heads to a seaside village in England. There, she hopes to discover the source of her uncanny inspirations, sort out her feelings about Liam, and unravel truths that her mother kept hidden for decades.
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT:
Sage remembered the first time she tasted chocolate. She must have been three or so, and a neighbor had brought over a cake, layers and layers of chocolate—cake and icing, cake and icing, tiny layers of crumbly texture, and a drizzle of purest chocolate over the top. She was a fussy eater, always, but that cake had broken through every barrier she’d ever imagined.
She knew now that chocolate cake was not always the easiest to make, but the fine ganache icing and the drizzles had knocked her brain right out of her head, turned her into a being of pure sensuality. The adults had found her adorable, taking pictures of her licking her fingers, chocolate smeared over not just her face but in her hair and on her clothes.
At four, her life had been upended with a brutal and devastating twist that left Sage marooned in a lonely world. That loneliness had led her away from that sensual joy, down a long and crooked road. At fifteen, she’d discovered the cursed forgetfulness addiction offered, and wandered away from the tethers of her mother and her village, lost in the city on her own.
But at the age of twenty-seven, at the bottom of one of her darkest days, she’d stopped in front of the shop of a chocolatier on a London street. It was a tiny place, tucked between two expensive boutiques, but the external wall was violet, and gold lettering proclaimed its purpose: Madame Alain, chocolatier.
The smell of it wafted out, rich and deep. Alive. Forgetting that she would not be welcome in her current state, ragged and unwashed, she allowed it to lure her inside. She had no money. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.
And yet. She stood in the center of the tiny shop, surrounded by the textured scent of chocolate, and breathed. Breathed all the way to bottom of her soul. It stirred the shriveled parts, the pieces twisted and neglected, and they began to breathe with her, take on life.
A woman spoke from behind the counter. “Here you are, dear,” she said. “A sample.”
“Oh,” Sage said, hauled back to reality. “I don’t have any money.”
The woman lifted a sanguine shoulder. “I have plenty of samples. You look like you could do with a little sweetness. Try this one. It has a little orange.”
Sage accepted the gift, taking a small bite, the smallest she could manage so that it would last. It melted in bits on her lonely, starved tongue, and as if it were enchanted, it awakened her mouth, bright orange and sweet ganache and slivers of dark bitter chocolate. She savored it, tasting something for the first time in years. She was, for a moment, genuinely alive. Alight.
The woman smiled, as benevolent as a fairy godmother.
It didn’t happen that day or even that week, but not long after, Sage found her way into a rehab to help her detox, and then into a halfway house where she worked at a vegan café for two years. When she trusted that her light was truly, completely flickering within, she went back to Madame Alain and asked to be her apprentice.
It was the most potent decision of her life, and no one would ever convince her that there was no magic in the alchemy of chocolate. It had healed her, that kiss of chocolate, awakening her to life as surely as the prince kissing the sleeping princess. Not that she’d ever wanted a prince, of course, though she’d found quite a pretty princess.
This morning, she’d come to the shop early, before dawn had fully broken the horizon. The town was sleeping, only the odd stray cat out hunting, and she’d let herself in to the old building to commune with the ghosts who’d not yet taken themselves to bed. She felt them rustling, reliving their times in these kitchens. She didn’t mind their company as she pulled out ingredients, feeling a taste on her tongue, something elusive. Cream, of course. Dark chocolate, but not the darkest. Butter. Something popped, clear and bright. Yes, butter for caramel? No, toffee.
Hm. She hadn’t done much with toffee. Paula loved caramel, so she usually stopped there, but if the magic was urging her to make toffee, there must be a reason.
Toffee, it would be. Magic bites for someone who needed them.
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