Secrets of a (Somewhat) Sunny Girl by Karen Booth Release Date: October 16, 2018
Publisher: Karen Booth
Book Synopsis: With divorce and infidelity hanging from nearly every branch of her family tree, Katherine Fuller sees no point in marriage. Boyfriends? Sure. Sex? Of course. Wedding vows? No, thanks. Still, when her younger sister Amy gets engaged, Katherine gathers all the enthusiasm she can. She won’t let Amy down. She’s done enough of that for a lifetime.
As the sisters embark on wedding plans, Katherine’s college love resurfaces. It nearly killed Katherine to part from sexy Irish musician Eamon more than a decade ago, but falling under his spell a second time forces her to confront everything she hid from him. The secrets surrounding her mother’s death are still fresh and raw in her mind, but one has haunted her more than the others. She can’t bear to tell anyone, especially not Amy. It could ruin far more than a wedding. It might destroy a sister’s love forever.
Genre: Romantic Women’s Fiction
About Karen Booth:Karen Booth is a midwestern girl transplanted in the South, raised on ‘80s music and repeated readings of Forever by Judy Blume. An early preoccupation with rock ‘n’ roll led her to spend her 20s working her way from intern to executive in the music industry. When her kids came along, she traded late nights for early mornings, writing contemporary romance and women’s fiction. Karen was a finalist for RT Magazine’s Series Romance of the Year and Gold Seal of Excellence, and the 2018 National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award. Her books have been translated into seventeen languages.
Excerpt: Katherine and Irish musician Eamon had a super-steamy relationship 11 years ago that ended abruptly when she returned to the U.S. to help with her alcoholic father. This scene has Katherine telling her sister Amy about her reunion with Eamon that morning.
I got home around six, and Amy came barging through our door a half hour later. She kicked it shut behind her, tossed her bag and keys on the chair, and bugged her baby blues at me. “So? Eamon? What happened?”
I’d had a good eight hours to process the breakfast date, and I still wasn’t totally sure. I swallowed a sip of my wine and set my glass on the coffee table, deciding it was best to start small. “It was great.”
“That text you sent me was the worst, by the way. Had a good time? What does that even mean?”
“What was I supposed to say? And you were at work. I didn’t want to bother you. You’re always giving me shit when I send you long, rambling texts.”
“For this, I would’ve cut you some slack.” She planted herself on the couch next to me and flipped her pumps from her feet. They tumbled under the coffee table. “So, again. Tell me. What happened? How was it?” She nearly went full-on chin-hands with me. I had to admit I loved the chance to gossip with her, but this was so personal, it felt too raw to gush and squeal. A lot had happened. Heavy stuff of consequence.
“It was great. But strange. But also awesome. What do you want to know? The highlights?”
“The sex lights.”
“There was no sex. But there was a kiss.” Was there ever. Hours later and my lips were still asking me what the hell happened. “And he answered the door wearing a towel.”
“Get out.” She crossed her legs and started bobbing her foot. “You are such a lucky bitch.”
“I know. I don’t even know what I did to deserve it.” How did it feel to suddenly talk about a secret as if it had always been public knowledge? Whatever it was, that was what talking to Amy felt like. Eamon had gone from hiding in the recesses of my mind to being fully out in the open.
“A kiss? On the lips? How was it?”
“Yes, on the lips. I wouldn’t call it a kiss if it was on the forehead. I’d call it a peck or I wouldn’t even mention it.”
“If he kissed me on the forehead, I’d call it a kiss. I’d tell all of my friends that Eamon MacWard kissed me on the face.”
“What? Nobody says that someone kissed them on the face. The cheek, yes. The forehead, the nose. Nobody says the face.”
“You’re stalling. Just tell me.”
I sucked in a deep breath. Of course I was stalling. So I told her everything…the towel…the room…and although I didn’t tell her every last word he’d said, I did tell her some things.
“Why didn’t he ever look for you?” she asked.
“He said he was waiting for fate to bring me back.”
Amy closed her eyes and flopped back on the couch. “Oh my God. I’m going to die of romanticism. He said that? I would literally pass out.”