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Closer to Okay by Amy Watson (Book Review)

Weaving culinary delights with an honest, appraising look at how we deal with the world when it becomes too much, Closer to Okay is the comfort food we all need in these, well, crazy times.

Kyle Davies is doing fine. She has her routine, after all, ingrained in her from years of working as a baker: wake up, make breakfast, prep the dough, make lunch, work the dough, make dinner, bake dessert, go to bed. Wash, rinse, repeat. It’s a good routine. Comforting. Almost enough to help her forget the scars on her wrist, still healing from when she slit it a few weeks ago; that she lost her job at the bakery when she checked herself in as an inpatient at Hope House; then signed away all decisions about her life, medical care, and wellbeing to Dr. Booth (who may or may not be a hack). So, yeah, Kyle’s doing just fine.

Except that a new item’s been added to her daily to-do list recently: stare out her window at the coffee shop (named, well…The Coffee Shop) across the street, and its hot owner, Jackson. It’s healthy to have eye candy when you’re locked in the psych ward, right? Something low risk to keep yourself distracted. So when Dr. Booth allows Kyle to leave the facility–two hours a day to go wherever she wants–she decides to up the stakes a little more. Why not visit? Why not see what Jackson’s like in person?

Turns out that Jackson’s a jerk with a heart of gold, a deadly combination that Kyle finds herself drawn to more than she should be. (Aren’t we all?) At a time when Dr. Booth delivers near-constant warnings about the dangers of romantic entanglements, Kyle is pulled further and further into Jackson’s orbit. At first, the feeling of being truly taken care of is bliss, like floating on a wave. But at a time when Kyle is barely managing her own problems, she finds herself suddenly thrown into the deep end of someone else’s. Dr. Booth may have been right after all: falling in love may be the thing that sends Kyle into a backslide she might never be able to crawl out of. Is Jackson too much for her to handle? Does love come at the cost of sanity?

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I received a complimentary copy of this book from R&R Book Tours.
I voluntarily chose to read and post an honest review.

 

Closer to Okay tore me up. I cried so many times that I thought I would have to go to the store for more Kleenex. I choked up when Kyle threw her arms around Jackson because she desperately needed a hug. I wanted to hug her at that moment, and I am not a hugger. 

When Kyle confided about her mother to Jackson, I again felt the urge to hug her. Kyle seemed so broken and, at times, almost came across as a lost child – not a struggling adult. 

When Jackson showed us his vulnerable side, my heart began to ache for him. I felt terrible for him when he begged Kyle for help, and she turned him down. I shed a tear when he first hugged her and wrote that beautiful letter. 

Closer to Okay does contain subject matter that might be difficult for some people to read. Trigger warning: suicide attempt, suicide, anxiety, depression, anorexia, panic attacks, etc. If these areas are difficult for you to read, I suggest not reading this book. If you suffer from mental disorders and feel like you can handle these topics, I encourage you to give this book a chance. I suffer from many issues and will admit this book was hard for me to read, BUT I’m glad I didn’t give up on it. Kyle and Jackson are beautifully broken people who bring out the best in each other. 

I don’t feel like the end is the end of their story. At least, I hope there’s a sequel in the works. 

 

Heart Rating System:
1 (lowest) and 5 (highest) 
Score: ❤❤

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Meet the Author

Amy-Watson-credit-Rita-Earles-1160x1536-1-300x300

Amy Watson is a native of Little Rock, Arkansas. A wife, a mother to two boys, and a full-time office manager. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, baking, drinking coffee, knitting, and watching football.

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Double Barrel Horror Vol. 3 – Six Authors, Twelve Chilling Stories (Anthology Review)

Brace yourself for another two-barrel blast of unrelenting horror and suspense. Volume 3 of the ‘Double Barrel Horror’ anthology series delivers two chilling tales from each of six talented authors for a twelve-story onslaught that will blow you out of your sneakers. This time around, your fate lies in the hands of Christine Morgan, Mark Matthews, Theresa Braun, Calvin Demmer, Glenn Rolfe, and Robert Essig.

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(review request submitted by Theresa Braun, contributing author, for an honest critique)

There are twelve stories in this gory anthology. I am going to share my favorite story from each author. 

 

I had no idea so many phrases had the word “eye” in it. Christine Morgan’s Eye See You discussed mentioned several. 

  • keeping an eye on you
  • look with your eyes, not your hands
  • eye spy with my little eye
  • eyes in the back of your head
  • eat with your eyes first

When a child hears these phrases, their minds might translate to a literal form. Maybe a child believes EYES are in the back of heads. If you step into their mindset, this phrase is creepy. That’s why I think many will find Eye See You disturbingIt makes you rethink and picture a not so pleasant scene. 

 

 

If you have a weak stomach, as in the mere mention of puke causes you to gag, then pass on From Unclean Spells by Robert Essig. There was so much vomit in this short story. I mean, you could slip- n-slide in the slimy stuff if you wanted to… not that I am suggesting you ever do so. I am just giving you a nasty visual of how much upchuck was involved. Oh yeah, there’s a grotesque monster in this tale as well. He made me wanna relieve myself of my breakfast foods as well. 

 

 

Wicked Smart Carnie by Mark Matthews solidified what my mother told me every year of my childhood when the carnival came to town… “Never trust a carnie. Never talk to a carnie. NEVER, EVER, go off with a carnie alone!” 

I’m sure carnies are lovely people, but they give off a creepy vibe to me. I’m assuming Mark Matthews (the author) has felt the creep vibe from them as well. 

 

Theresa Braun’s Stillborn had a great combination of science fiction, mystery, suspense, gore, and shock. I mean, first, she had body parts in jars. But, she topped herself when more jars were exposed. (no spoilers)

Mad scientist… Invasion of the Body Snatchers… I’m not sure what the heck is going on in that hospital, and I’m not sure if I want to know. Who am I kidding… I so want to know. I didn’t want the story to end! 

 

Calvin Demmer drew me in with Highway Hunger. His monster was a seven-foot squid/octopus with two large eyes that fed on dying animals or humans. Ok, that sounds good on paper. In-person, not so much. 

And the ending, wow, I DID NOT see that coming. I bet Dudley didn’t either. 

Oh and the rat scene… SHIVERS! 

 

 

When I was a child, there was an urban legend that a Cabbage Patch Doll came alive and suffocated a baby in her sleep. I immediately tossed all my big dolls in the trash. Even now, as I shop in stores, I give them the side-eye. I know it’s my imagination, but I swear them look a little too intently at me. Plus, they can blink their eyes. That’s creepy. 

Oh, and don’t get me started on the dolls that look, feel, and act like real babies. Those dolls are nightmare inducers! 

After reading The House on Mayflower by Glenn Rolfe, I have a new fear. I’d tell you, but I don’t want to ruin the story for others. 


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Heart Rating System:
1 (lowest) and 5 (highest) 
Score: 

 

 

 

 

 

Christine Morgan (Author), Mark Matthews (Author), Theresa Braun  (Author), Calvin Demmer  (Author), Glenn Rolfe (Author), Robert Essig (Author), Matthew Weber (Editor) 

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Ignite on Contact by Jaci Burton (Book Showcase)

New York Times bestselling author Jaci Burton is back with a friends-to-lovers romance sure to melt hearts as one smokin’-hot fireman turns up the heat on love.

Relationships. Firefighter Rafe Donovan avoids them whenever possible. He loves dating women, but he makes sure they know up front that he’s in it for fun, great sex and nothing more.

Fun. As an ER nurse and official caretaker of her disabled grandfather, Carmen Lewis doesn’t have time for fun. But Rafe has been there for Carmen–and her grandfather–time and again, and he’s clearly interested in her. She knows he’s a player, but she’s tempted by his charm and incredible body. And maybe a little fun isn’t a bad thing, as long as she keeps her heart away from this fiery game she’s enjoying with a very hot man.

Love. It doesn’t take Rafe long to realize that until now he’s only been playing at romance. With Carmen he feels searing passion and heart-tugging emotion for the first time. Now he has to convince Carmen that what they have together is the real deal.

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~~ Excerpt courtesy of Jaci Burton’s Website ~~

 

Chapter One
 
Flames licked all around Rafe Donovan, the heat from the house fire causing sweat to drip down his face and inside of his SCBA mask. Since he couldn’t wipe his face, he blinked instead, clearing the perspiration from his eyes.
 
Rafe firmly gripped the lead hose to douse the blaze threatening to drop a fiery ceiling on their heads. Tommy Rodriguez had his back, feeding him more line. They soaked the flames in the living room, pushing through the dining room and into the kitchen, driving the beast back.
 
“It’s wearing down,” Rafe said, watching as the inferno tried to roar, then inched back into the walls as he blasted it with water. “You don’t win today, you bastard.”
 
“You tell that fucker, Rafe,” Rodriguez said.
 
Fire was his nemesis, the thing that had almost killed him back when he was a kid. It had also saved his life, turned it around and given him a new beginning. But it still had to die. Every day he faced it, it had to die.
 
When the blaze was finally extinguished, he exhaled. The Engine 6 team did a walk around, pulling down walls to make sure fire didn’t lurk in the Sheetrock, waiting to reignite. He made his way outside and pulled off his mask, sucking in a deep breath of Ft. Lauderdale’s hot summer air.
 
It might be humid as hell, and he might be drenched under his turnout gear, but he’d survived. No one was inside the house when the fire broke out, so he’d call this one a success.
 
He looked at the one-story ranch, charred but still standing. It looked a little beaten down, but the old house would come back.
 
“Nice job in there.” Jackson Donovan, his brother and his lieutenant, patted him on the back.
 
“Thanks.”
 
He grinned and headed back to the truck, elation blasting through him as it always did when they were successful.
 
He loved his job. If he could do it every day, he would.
 
They began to wrap up. They were folding the hoses and packing up equipment when smoke started pouring from the roof.
 
“Dammit,” Rafe said. How had they missed that? He heard Jackson’s voice ordering them to get back into the house. Rafe loaded a fresh tank of oxygen on his back and put his mask on, then waited for his backup.
 
Rodriguez was right behind him as they returned inside.
 
“Be careful in there, all of you,” Jackson said. “I don’t like the looks of that smoke.”
 
“Yeah, got it,” Rafe said. He didn’t like the skittering feeling crawling down his back. He had a sixth sense about fire, and which scenes posed a danger. This one didn’t feel right to him. Something was off.
 
Inside looked clear, which meant the smoke was hiding in the walls somewhere. Hendricks and Richards were inside, too, helping them inspect. They’d broken off, going in the opposite direction.
 
“There’s no heat, no smoke,” Rafe said as they made their way around the house, testing more walls for fire. “So where’s the smoke coming from?”
 
“Attic, maybe,” Rodriguez said.
 
“Already up in the attic and cleared it,” Hendricks said into his radio. “So whatever we saw, it isn’t up here.”
 
Damn. It wasn’t unusual for a fire to snake along the walls, lurking, moving from one location to another. Which meant they’d have to check behind the drywall in every room until they found it and extinguished it. Rafe used his drywall hook to cut open a section of wall, checking for smoke in one of the smaller back bedrooms.
 
“Anything?” Jackson radioed.
 
“Still looking,” Rafe radioed back. “Not finding anything.”
 
“I don’t like this,” Jackson said. “Keep a sharp eye.”
 
Rafe was already doing that. The whole team was in here now, cutting through and dragging down sections of walls to search for smoke, looking for hot spots.
 
When Rafe got to the closet in the hallway, he felt the door. It was hot, and the paint on the outside of the door was bubbling.
 
“There you are,” he whispered, then turned to Rodriguez. “We need to vent this through the roof.”
 
He was about to notify Jackson that they were exiting when he was knocked back on his feet by an explosion.
 
And then everything went dark.
 
Busy shifts in the emergency room at Ft. Lauderdale Medical Center were Carmen Lewis’s jam. It was a big-city emergency room, serving a large population that made for demanding days. Carmen’s shifts went fast because she rarely stopped moving. She relished the fast pace, but even more, she loved helping the sick and injured.
 
She was charting in the station when her friend and fellow nurse Tess Blackstone stopped by. “The patient in room seven is ready for discharge according to Dr. Lange. Scrip for pain meds and a follow-up with his personal physician in a week. Room six is still waiting for someone to take her up for a CT scan. I just administered another bolus of morphine to room eight with Dr. Chan’s approval.”
 
Carmen nodded and updated the patient charts, signing off on the discharge for room seven. “Call CT—again—and tell them we’ve been waiting an hour and a half for that scan. What’s the status on the patient in room three?”
 
“Waiting to be taken up for an angiogram.”
 
“Okay, thanks.”
 
“I’ll see what’s up with CT—again,” Tess said, picking up the phone and rolling her eyes at Carmen.
 
Carmen grinned, confident Tess would do her job. All her nurses did. She had the best staff in the hospital, in her opinion. As triage nurse and supervisor of the department, Carmen had her hands in everything in the ER, which meant she was always managing chaos. Just the way she liked it.
 
EMTs rolled in with a firefighter strapped to a stretcher, bringing Carmen to instant alert. She recognized Rafe right away since he and his brothers lived in the house next door to hers. As a nurse running an ER, she never panicked, but she hated seeing someone she knew on that stretcher.
 
His face was covered with ash and grit, but she was happy to see he was awake and seemingly alert as she directed the paramedics to take him into room five.
 
The attending physician came into the room at the same time to do an assessment.
 
“Explosion at a house fire,” EMT Miguel Acosta said. “He took a pretty good blast that knocked him unconscious.”
 
Acosta and his fellow EMT Adrienne Smith unstrapped Rafe and moved him from the stretcher onto the ER bed.
 
“But as you can see,” Rafe said, “I’m not unconscious now.”
 
“Patient was down for approximately three minutes but roused quickly,” Miguel said.
 
“And then he was a royal pain in the ass in the ambulance all the way here,” Smith said, glaring at Rafe. “So he’s alert and oriented times three.”
 
“Any vomiting?” Dr. Lange asked.
 
“None,” Smith said.
 
“Thanks, Adrienne,” Carmen said. “We’ll take it from here.”
 
Miguel smiled at Rafe. “Behave yourself.”
 
Rafe tried to sit up, but Carmen laid a firm hand on his shoulder. “Nope. Stay put until we assess you.”
 
Dr. Lange did a physical and neurological exam.
 
“No burns, but he does have a bump on the head. No external injuries. Get him set up on an IV and EKG and do his vitals and blood work,” Dr. Lange said. “Let’s order a CT scan.”
 
She nodded and Dr. Lange stepped out. Carmen went to the cabinet to get the leads and everything else she’d need, then alerted one of the other nurses to bring her IV fluids.
 
“I shouldn’t even be here,” Rafe said.
 
“You know the protocol, Rafe,” Carmen said, giving him her standard nurse stare. No one ever argued with her stare. It was pretty fierce.
 
Rafe, apparently, wasn’t fazed by her glare.
 
“Whatever, Carmen. I’m fine.”
 
“Sure you are. Let’s get you out of that turnout gear.”
 
He grinned. “Getting me naked. Now we’re talkin’.”
 
She laughed and shook her head. “Can you sit up?”
 
“Yeah, sure.”
 
She held out her hand. He grasped it and sat up, much too fast for her liking.
 
She noticed he winced, and then he wobbled on the table a little.
 
“Head hurt?”
 
He reached for his forehead, cradling it in his hand. “A little. Damn backdraft caught me unaware, and the door knocked me backward. And out cold, I guess.”
She’d known Rafe and his brothers since they moved next door to her four years ago. Rafe helped her all the time with her grandfather. Over the years, they’d grown close, and the thought of him being hurt made her hurt.
 
She helped him unlatch his jacket and slide it off. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
 
He shrugged out of his coat, and Carmen couldn’t help but admire his broad shoulders encased in his tight T-shirt, something she shouldn’t be noticing right now.
 
“Can you stand so we can get the rest of your turnout gear off?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“Hold my hand.”
 
His lips curved, revealing his amazing smile. “Carmen, I never knew you were interested.”
 
She rolled her eyes at him. “Up. Hold my hand.”
 
He took her fingers and dropped his suspenders, letting the pants fall while he stepped out of his boots.
 
The hottest man she knew was undressing in front of her. At least partially undressing. Even in his T-shirt and standard uniform pants, standing this close to him made Carmen feel things she hadn’t felt since—
 
Longer than she’d like to admit. Which she wasn’t going to think about, because right now Rafe was a patient. And that’s all he was to her.
 
“Come on, climb back into bed. Shirt off.”
 
“See, you flirting with me like this makes my head feel a lot better.”
 
She shot him a look. “At least your sense of humor is still intact.”
 
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Always.”
 
He pulled his shirt off, and she refused to notice his wide shoulders and muscled chest, or the very interesting tattoo on the back of his right shoulder.
 
Okay, she did notice the tattoo, the Maltese cross with the three fists and the words “Brotherhood by Fire” surrounded by flames. She wanted to ask. She didn’t. He was hurt and she was his nurse and it was none of her business. She got him into a gown and hooked up to the machines so they could chart his vitals, all of which were ridiculously normal. She checked his eyes, which were dilating normally as well—a very good sign.
 
Amy, one of the nurses, brought her the fluid bag, so she started the IV. Rafe didn’t even flinch when she inserted the needle, which wasn’t a surprise. The guy was tough. She wet a washcloth with warm water and brought it over to clean the soot and grime off of his face.
 
“I didn’t know a bath was included,” he said, his warm brown eyes studying her the entire time.
 
Heat sang through her body. Normally, cleaning a patient was an emotionless task. She did it because it was part of her job. But with Rafe it felt . . . different. Intimate. Unnerving.
 
“I thought we might want to clean off some of this residue from the fire.”
 
“A nice hot shower would feel really good right about now.”
 
She swept his thick dark hair away from his forehead and finished cleaning his face. Such a gorgeous face, too, with angular lines and a very strong jaw. “Can’t do that for you, but does this feel better?”
 
He reached up and wrapped his fingers around hers. “You touching me feels good.”
 
That heat she felt earlier was replaced by an incredible tingling sensation that settled somewhere in the vicinity of her sex.
 
Whoa, girl, back up.
 
Which she did. “Okay, I can actually see your face now.”
 
He smiled, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on her.
 
She needed to remind herself that Rafe Donovan was a patient, and her neighbor, and that nothing was ever going to happen between the two of them.
 
Ever.
 
No matter how many times she’d fantasized about him.
 

END OF EXCERPT

 

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