Monday, November 11, 2013

Honeysuckle and Jasmine by Liz Grace Davis 
Publication date: September 24th 2013
Genres: Adult, Contemporary

The past is never far behind.
Senia Loato’s life has been needled by disappointment, and the wounds that fester go beyond skin deep. She is certain if she puts miles between her and her tainted past, she will somehow outrun it. When she’s offered the chance to leave her island home of Mintang to become an au pair for three boys in Germany, she takes the opportunity to start  running.

In Germany, she meets Miina, another au pair. What builds between them is a life-defining friendship, one they will risk everything for.

And soon, they’ll be asked nothing less

When Miina is betrayed and left stranded, Senia stands by her, risking much more than just her stay in Germany. She also stands to lose rich, handsome, turquoise-eyed Roman Dorenwald, the first man she has allowed into her heart.

But they’re risks worth taking.
Eventually, Senia makes a sacrifice that catapults her back to her past, where she’s forced to draw back the curtain and discover the shocking truth of her history.

Can she confront her nightmares, reach deep into her soul, and forgive those who have hurt her? Or is it easier to just keep running?

Author Bio
Liz Grace Davis is a Namibian author. She grew up in Angola, Namibia, South Africa and Germany. She now lives with her husband in Vienna, Austria.

Growing up, Liz spent most of her days in school libraries, diving into the world of books.

In her spare time she loves to travel as well as creating jewelry and digital scrapbooks. She's in her element when she is doing anything that requires creativity.

Liz is the author of a young adult fantasy novel, Tangi's Teardrops, and a romantic women's fiction novel, Chocolate Aftertaste.

Author links:

Back in my newly renovated basement apartment, I drew a deep, shaky breath, then lifted the box I'd left on the bed earlier. I carried it to the outside rubbish bin and returned empty-handed. Now all I had to do was shake off what was left of my emotional baggage.

Easier said than done, I mused. Why wouldn't it be? For years I'd felt like a piece of clothing that had been ripped open at the seams, without a seam ripper to lessen the damage. Then unravelled until all that remained were pieces that had once belonged to something whole.

That didn't matter now. I should be thankful that the fabric was still intact, the individual pieces just waiting to be sewn back together, stitch by stitch.

If there was something I knew how to do, sewing would be it. Sure, at times I'd probably veer from sewing in a straight line or mistakenly jab a finger with the needle. Fine. I'd just start over, next time with the help of a thimble.

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