“North of Sunset” New Cover + Excerpt

By Lisa Maliga copyright 2015

2010 cover
2010 cover

I first published NORTH OF SUNSET in late 2010—back when Amazon allowed us to put books into five categories rather than just two! Anyway, I finally found the time to get the cover redesigned as the first version looked like this small cover to your right.

Pretty lame, I know. I was adamant about using the cover photo because it was taken at Santa Monica Beach right at the edge of Sunset Boulevard and at 5:00 PM in December – sunset for real!

2011 cover
2011 cover

A year later, I fixed the font but the result wasn’t as good as I’d hoped. I was going to get it professionally redone when I got involved in some soap crafting projects that kept me away from my Fireworks program. However, I hired a cover designer and the third cover below reflects the somberness of the book. This isn’t a conventional romance, it’s more of a contemporary fiction tale, a Hollywood story about a man who lives in that expensive enclave overlooking down the city of Los Angeles.

Here’s the new blurb: Sherman Lee is a volatile action movie producer in search of critical acclaim. Best friend Wesley Barron stars in his hit movies and knows about the producer’s troubled past. Emily Karelin is sent to work for Sherman due to her lack of show biz knowledge. Temping to support her figure skating habit, Emily works in his Beverly Hills mansion, unaware of how her life will drastically change. NORTH OF SUNSET explores the life of an ambitious man living above it all. Someone whose motto is “the only problem with being #1 is that it never lasts.”

north of sunset by lisa maliga
NEW 2015 cover

CHAPTER FOUR

The phone rang. He grabbed it. Silence. Then the sound of a static-filled voice: “Hi, this is Computer Components calling to let you know…”
“Go to hell!” Sherman shouted and hung up.
He was irritated. Just like he’d been that morning when he drove up to see that dented red Toyota parked beneath the basketball hoop. Reed had started on Friday after he’d fired that Cheetos and Pepsi drinking woman. Reed proved to be a decent assistant. Quick on the phones. Eager to please and he knew all the key names. But he was a lousy typist.
Sherman had been location scouting in Phoenix and was tired. Reed had made sure that a limo was at the airport, but the driver was one of Reed’s struggling actor friends who kept trying to talk to him when he wanted to sleep.
By Monday afternoon Sherman was furious. Reed was simpering on the phone to a bimbo model/actress. Then he offered Sherman the trades and had circled items in red pen, starring the cover page article on North/South Productions’ deal with Fox, Sherman’s company. Obviously Sherman had known about the information for months! So some pipsqueak wannabe producer was pointing it out to him!
Reed took another call for Sherman. “Who’s calling for Mr. Lee? Jerry? Which one–Lewis?” Reed crossed his eyes and made a stupid face.
Sherman lunged for the phone and took the call. “Jerry? Where are you? I’ll call you right back.” He slammed the phone down. “Reed, you’re fired.”
“What?”
“YOU’RE FIRED!” Sherman yelled, his Texas accent very clear. “Get out now!”
Reed decided that the producer wasn’t kidding around. The skinny young man looked very scared. The eyes he’d crossed in mockery were now welling up with tears. “Please, Mr. Lee…I…”
“Get out, you little piece of sh*t.” Sherman saw the fear in the young man’s eyes and felt power surge through him.
Reed headed for the doorway, not wasting an instant.
“You’ll never temp in this town again!” Sherman bellowed.
On Tuesday morning he called Jobs Co. and asked for someone who was competent and didn’t want to make it in show biz.

 Read the official blurb and see where you can get North of Sunset 

 

 

Wanna swap book reviews?

By Lisa Maliga, copyright 2015

I’ve never been sought after as a book reviewer until I began posting on some Facebook book promotion groups. I’ve written book reviews in the past, but I don’t mention that on my website, blog or Facebook page. I also joined some groups where readers gave reviews. Soon I learned that 99% of those readers were also authors who needed their books reviewed. I was sent requests to swap reviews several times a day.

“Hi, are you interested for a review exchange?  My book is FREE on Kindle.”

“Hi Lisa, can we swap for your book? let me know. thanks”

“Hi Lisa, are you up for an honest review exchange? I have downloaded your book  and if you’ll give me a go signal then ill leave a positive review for your book. I have two books for free right now and ill appreciate if you”ll choose one for this.”

“Hi Lisa, I just downloaded your book.My book is also free today. Would you like to trade reviews?”

“Hey There, Would you be interested in doing an honest review exchange for some free books? I have 4 free books.”

“Hey would you be interested in an honest review swap? I have two free books today. Please download 1 or 2 and send me over your book (s) Free Books Only Today”

“Hi Lisa . Do you have 99c books for exchange reviews? Please let me know . Thanks!  Here’s my book :”

This is my latest request that I had to include as it’s so blatant. “Hi Lisa, I saw that you have an ebook available on Amazon – . I have one too, and I want to ask you if you want to exchange some reviews? I’ll buy your ebook and review it on Amazon with a 5 star and you’ll do the same with mine? Let me know if you are interested” 

Whenever I got one of those review swap requests, the first image that came to mind was this: grumpycat

Going by the casually written email examples, many of the free eBooks offered for review were of the same caliber. Worse than that, much of the information contained within the mercifully brief nonfiction titles could be found on Wikipedia and other online reference sites. 

I’m not saying that all nonfiction titles are scams, but the way you can tell if they are is to see if the author is an expert in their field. Have they written a soap making book and make and sell soap? If the book is about dieting and weight loss, have they utilized the diet plan they write about? I’ve discussed it in this post about shopping for soap making or bath & body products eBooks, but it applies to all nonfiction titles. 

What made me stop this quid pro quo review shenanigans? 1. I felt like I was at a certain vanity publisher’s message boards circa 2005 reading about authors asking other authors to buy and review their books. 2.  Review swaps aren’t appreciated at Amazon. 

So, I’m officially done with swapping, trading or exchanging eBook reviews. 

If you want to put a stop to review swaps, feel free to share this photo! 

grumpy cat says no to swapping book reviews

Sweet Dreams and Macarons

Copyright 2015-2016

by Lisa Maliga

sweet dreams a novella by lisa maliga ebook kindle smashwordsMacarons and sweet dreams? Yes, the two go together quite well. Macarons are sweet and somewhat crispy little cookies that can be filled with butter cream or chocolate ganache or various types of jams. They’re usually made with almond flour and are gluten-free. Macarons are often quite colorful, as you know if you’ve seen them. My opinion is that they’re the best kind of dessert—small and delicate. Fancy but not outrageously so. Yes, I’m so fond of macarons that I’m including mention of them in my sweet romance/cozy mystery, Macarons of Love: The Yolanda’s Yummery Series, Book 4.

But what started it all was a romance novella I wrote called Sweet Dreams. Brenda Nevins, the main character, is a romance author/baker. Although the macarons part isn’t at the beginning of the story, these tempting little cookies do have a costarring role. During the writing of the ebook, I got obsessed with macarons. I read several cookbooks on how to make them, visited numerous websites, and sampled quite a few tasty macarons. I bought some online and even tried the Trader Joe’s version[s] which were easy to store as they went from frozen to just right in about 30 minutes.

It was a tough job, but I gutted [pun intended!] my way through it.

macarons sweet dreams bakery fresh romance novella lisa maligaAnd now, I’ll be revisiting macaron-land for the next few months while I write my book. But that’s fine with me. I even have a Pinterest board dedicated to these fine sweet treats. This board has 5000+ pictures and recipes. Check it out! http://www.pinterest.com/lisamaliga/sweet-macarons

NEW! Learn to bake macarons! Check out BAKING FRENCH MACARONS: A BEGINNER’S GUIDE.

 

The Aroma of Love: (The Yolanda’s Yummery Series, Book 3) is Here + Excerpt

By Lisa Maliga

Copyright 2015, 2016

I wish I could write a book as fast as I read one, but that’s just not possible. Today, I’m launching the third book in the Yolanda’s Yummery series. Be prepared for sweet romance, pies, and a cold case dating back to the 1960s. Here’s the official blurb:

Yolanda Carter is gearing up for a hectic holiday season at her bakery, Yolanda’s Yummery.

The adjoining Beverage Bar is thriving due to owner Nigel Garvey’s expertise along with that of shift manager Quinn Hendrickson, a barista and a baker.

Visiting her grandmother’s gravesite, Yolanda is surprised to see a woman putting pies into an old-fashioned station wagon. Her parents mention an unsolved murder of her grandmother’s best friend who was an amazing pie baker. The story of the 1960s crime touches Yolanda, along with her new friend, Detective Winston Churchill. Her growing sleuthing skills lead her to search for the killer.

In between investigating and baking batches of pies in time for her latest product launch, Yolanda discovers more about the sweetness of love. And who is heating up the kitchen with Yolanda?

Includes the recipe for Yolanda’s Chewy Oatmeal Raisin Cookies!

CHAPTER 5
Excerpt

That morning Nick was helping one of the older appreciated guests who was taken with both him and the Fancy Vanilla cupcakes. “Sonny, can I have that a cinnamon coffee Bundt cake with vanilla icing?” The woman with the white hair worn in a pageboy paused, then sneezed loudly. “No wait, how about butterscotch icing?”

Nick’s grimace almost passed for a grin. Jeannie noticed it and shook her head slightly, not wanting the young man to insult the older woman. “I’m afraid we don’t have butterscotch but we have caramel.”

“Oh goodie, I’ll have that.” The woman smiled broadly, focusing all her attention on Nick.

After she shuffled out of the yummery, Nick shook his head and stared at the almost empty tips jar. “The least she could’ve done was leave me a tip.”

Jeannie smiled. “Show her more attentiveness next time. Tell her how pretty her blouse is or something.”

“Jeannie, I don’t want to encourage her. Geez, she’s old enough to be my grandmother.”

“I’ll have you know that she’s the widow of one of the wealthiest real estate moguls in the city.”

“So? That means she could afford to leave a big tip.”

“Not necessarily. She’s frugal. She told me she frequents every 99 Cents Only store she drives by and hangs out at Big Lots in Culver City. She’ll drive out of her way to save money…” Jeannie helped herself to a fudge sample. “Just the way some folks are, I guess. Oh, and you didn’t offer her a sample. Next time make sure you offer every appreciated guest a sample – even the older ones who have a crush on you.”

“I forgot to change the tips jar sign today,” he said.

“That could be another reason, though I doubt it. Old widows are lonely, so just make her feel a little less lonely and you’ll get more tips.”

the aroma of love the yolanda's yummery series book 3 lisa maliga

Now available at:
Amazon: The Aroma of Love
Amazon UK: The Aroma of Love
B&N NOOK: The Aroma of Love
iTunes: The Aroma of Love
Kobo: The Aroma of Love
Scribd:  The Aroma of Love
Smashwords: The Aroma of Love

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Diary of a Hollywood Nobody ~ A Show Biz Excerpt

Copyright 2011-2015 by Lisa Maliga

Wednesday, July 22

9:20 PM. Back in the world of show biz. 

diary of a hollywood nobody lisa maligaHollywood Financing. The office was on Sunset just east of Beverly Hills. I was a receptionist and the pay sucked but I could have all the free beverages I wanted. Reading on the job was okay. Eight executives worked there and they were a decent bunch. Jack, the lawyer, was in his mid-thirties, but his office was furnished like a kindergarten classroom. He had several cans of Play-Doh and had created some pretty weird sculptures. A fleet of Matchbox cars was parked on a Persian rug. Comic books were stacked on a couch in his suite overlooking Sunset Boulevard. And best of all, there was a kid-sized table and chair for his frequently visiting son that housed an array of coloring books and a box of crayons. Jack rarely accepted any calls and the messages multiplied between the scripts and contracts on his cluttered desk. 

I was allowed to read scripts so I didn’t bother bringing books. Everyone knew I was an aspiring screenwriter and I was glad to work in the Biz again. Leona was from Pennsylvania and said I could call home if I wanted. She was a production coordinator on a recent movie that hadn’t been released yet and had worked with Stallone. She was almost my age and drove a Chevy Blazer and lived in Beverly Hills. I imagined she was making more than what I made.

Here’s the official book description:

Chris Yarborough is a Midwesterner as green as the corn back home in Ohio. This former bookstore employee moves out to Los Angeles to pursue a profitable career in screenwriting.

She finds an office job in a Century City-based tax and financial planning company. The business closes in six months and her career as a temp is launched.

Chris temps in various locations from East L.A. to downtown to Santa Monica and the Valley. Jobs in movie studios bring her in contact with famous actors. As a temp she’s a nobody that’s as disposable as toilet paper.

Searching for a literary agent and that elusive script sale, Chris encounters an array of unusual characters. A partying apartment manager, an important film director who can launch her career, a lawyer with an office furnished in kindergarten motif, and several household names. Sometimes working in the entertainment biz, including stints at Playboy, Universal Studios, and Warner Bros, to jobs in unrelated fields, the plucky screenwriter perseveres.

We’re shown the excesses of the 1990’s as a nobody tries to become a somebody in Hollywood.

Available at Amazon and other online bookstores. See the following page for a full list of online book stores: Diary of a Hollywood Nobody

A Naughty Narcissist’s Yuletide Greetings

narcissist chronicles love me need me a narcissist's tale i want you seduction emails from a narcissist lisa maligaBy Lisa Maliga
Copyright 2011-2015

I’ve decided to include a special excerpt from The Narcissist Chronicles: The WHOLE Story as it contains a wacky Christmas scene. The narcissistic main character, Arlen J. Stevenson, is a Southern zombie author and public speaker. This scene is from a December speaking gig for firefighters and their wives in a small Southern town…

Warning: Rated PG-13!

Well, I needed to get more festive as it was warming up to be a very merry Christmas for me and I thought, well hell, who sang the best Christmas songs in the world? Me! Because I’d just composed Arlen’s Christmas Song and it was gonna get a deal with Sony Music next year.

I went back over to my briefcase and pulled out my Lucky Santa cap with the mistletoe attached to it. I removed the first one and put the new one on my head and went over to the mic and pulled it off its stand.

“Ladies and gentlemen–let me make this the best Christmas show you’ve ever attended. Why? Because there is a special Christmas treat for y’all, that’s why! This is an original musical composition!”

I cleared my throat and began singing, “Here’s your Christmas present, baby,” and smiled, shook my hips a little to warm myself up and began…

“I said, here’s your Christmas present, baby…” I was directing my vocal offerings at Daisy, the sexy ol gal in the back of the room and smiled at her, swishing my hips slowly back and forth, hinting that later on in the evening me and her could share some naked rockin’ and rollin’ in my motel room. I wished to hell she read minds, as I was getting hotter than hell thinking of what that ol gal must be like in the sack. She seemed to be grooving on it too, but I thought maybe I should continue on and do something Christmassy first before coming onto her up close and personal-like.

“Are you gonna pull my red ribbon tonight?” I warbled in a loud, musical voice. “Red ribbon…and if I’m lucky you’ll take it through the back door…” I went over to the Christmas tree at the back of the stage and admired it as I sang: “Oh I’m your Christmas present, baby…” extending the lyrics, fondling a large gold ornament, but not quite expecting it to crash to the stage floor and break loudly, but not nearly as loud as my strong tenor.

Time to get off the stage, and I switched hands on the mic and walked into the crowd, working it like the paid professional public speaker/singer I proudly am. I began slowly clapping in time to my singing and encouraging the audience to follow me, even clapping my hands above my head a few times. But they just sat there like some of my zombie characters.

I was making my way over to the sexy broad, but I stopped in front of a grandmaesque fat woman with a few tufts of cotton candy blue hair and thought of singing Blue Christmas to her, but decided to keep on singing what I was and I stood kinda close to her and rocked my hips suggestively as I sang. “Once you unwrap me, baby, you won’t need Elvis anymore!” But hell, she was too ugly to kiss so I just pretended like the mistletoe wasn’t there as I made my way over to the hottie with the big, nursable boobs.

On my way across the room I continued to sing, smiling at some ol gal in a wheelchair and deciding to flirt with her. I put my hand on the back of her chair. And I made her feel real good by pushing her wheelchair around in slow, sexy circles as I sang, “If I’d’ve been in Hollywood I’d’ve been the leading man and Elvis would work at a shoe store.”

She seemed a little bluer in the hair and redder in the face so I stopped the ride and by that time I had found my way over to Miss Daisy who was beaming up at me adoringly. Damn, I was gonna be giving her the Christmas love package a little early this year! I stripped off my sport jacket and my hips were a rockin’ back and forth and I sang directly to her “I’m your Christmas present, baby, touch me and watch your present growwwww”. I extended my arms to show how much, and was gonna lean on in to the sexiest woman in the room and get my mistletoe over her head and get my reward…

And that’s when some porky ol gal comes up behind me, interrupting me, by informing me: “Thank you Arlen J. Stevenson for your, uh, performance. But it looks like it’s time for our dinner to be served. Please join us!”

I smiled tightly at her and nodded in thanks. Some fat slob who thought dinner was more important than my groinal gratification had just interrupted my spectacular holiday musical performance.

Learn more about this book here: The Narcissist Chronicles: The WHOLE Story

“The Narcissist Chronicles: The WHOLE Story” plus an Arlen in Action Excerpt

narcissist chronicles love me need me a narcissist's tale i want you seduction emails from a narcissist lisa maligaBy Lisa Maliga

Copyright 2011-2015

Here’s a new excerpt from the eBook The Narcissist Chronicles: The WHOLE Story. Read about Arlen Stevenson’s first meeting with a woman he met online. A woman who sent him naked pictures of herself and is a fan of his zombie books. Mavis Preston is a lonely divorcée who enjoys trash talking with Arlen via IM and email. How will their planned weekend rendezvous turn out?

“Hello? Is this Arlen?” asked a breathy high voice.

“The one and only. I’m at this address here, numbered 6656 Bel…”

“Arlen, you’re here! Now!?” the phone clicked.

I looked up to see a stout woman with graying tightly permed curls and a pair of oversized glasses popular during the Reagan era, rushing toward me, her powder blue tracksuit emphasizing her undulating bulges and ripples. I pocketed my phone and embraced her, as I knew that was expected of me. I hid my disappointment beneath my pasted on smile—she looked absolutely nothing like those pictures she had sent…

Once I was inside her recently built home, I was impressed enough with the two story living room sporting a marble fireplace and walls containing built-in bookshelves. There was a large deck outside and a brand new gas grill that looked like it would cook lotsa steaks, burgers, hot dogs, and a few lobsters. The biggest turn on was the master bedroom with the elaborate king sized bed below a mirrored ceiling, plush beige carpeting which I wanted to test out when I got to some of my advanced sexual techniques, and the whirlpool tub in the adjacent bathroom made her look a whole lot better. Maybe ole Mavis was as good as she’d wrote.

When we went into her writing room, I saw that her computer was a laptop off in a corner next to a sewing machine and for some reason that disturbed me. Other than her bedroom, the suburban home seemed so normal and unsensual. Maybe it was the presence of a teenager; a door that was decorated on the outside with a poster of Hannah Montana, and remained closed because I doubted the woman wanted me to see evidence of her offspring. “Jeffrey, my only son! He’ll be spending the weekend with his father, like I told you earlier,” she assured me. The 4,000 square foot home was all ours from Friday through Sunday afternoon.

“I want you to autograph some books,” Mavis declared, leading me back downstairs into the living room. She immediately went over to a section and pulled out all three of my hardcovers, and I reasoned she didn’t break the bank to buy ‘em. Naturally, I always preferred it when they bought the more expensive and longer lasting version, and she happily handed them over.

“Why sure, Mavis, I’d love to…” hell, I just loved the fact that people actually bought my books and then wanted me to scribble in ‘em! I obliged her, thinking I was glad I’d left my overnight bag in the truck.

After the impromptu autograph signing, I pulled out my keys. “Mavis, I haven’t had a lot to eat today. Let’s say you and me go pick something up…”

“Nonsense, I won’t hear of it, Arlen. Why don’t I fix you a sub? I can make it to your liking…” she smiled suggestively.

 

Amazon Kindle version: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story

http://www.amazon.com/The-Narcissist-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B0053YUBCK

Amazon UK Kindle version: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Narcissist-Chronicles-Lisa-Maliga-ebook/dp/B0053YUBCK

Barnes & Noble version: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/narcissist-chronicles-lisa-maliga/1102941036?ean=2940012919106

iTunes version: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id664385143

Kobo version: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story

http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-narcissist-chronicles-the-whole-story-1

Scribd version: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story https://www.scribd.com/book/230453823/The-Narcissist-Chronicles-The-WHOLE-Story

Smashwords version: The Narcissist Chronicles: The Whole Story

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/86256

“Notes from Nadir” 4 Years Later

notes from nadir lisa maliga ebook cover

By Lisa Maliga

Copyright 2014

On October 21, 2010, the first eBook edition of Notes from Nadir was published on Kindle. Written as a series of blogs, Notes from Nadir made its online debut on March 3, 2010. My blog gradually began to attract readers. They seemed interested in reading the forthcoming novel that Notes from Nadir would later become.

Last year I published the second edition of “Notes” and even with a book tour, sales and reviews weren’t happening. The problem may be the title – nadir isn’t a common word. So, if you’re curious, and haven’t already gone to Dictionary.com to check it out, here’s the official description along with a summary of what Notes from Nadir is all about.

If noon is zenith then nadir is 6:30. And it was 6:29 and counting down. Way down. Merriam-Webster defines it as: “The lowest point.” Nadir – it was the place where I was inevitably going. Lots of stuff got me headed in that downward direction. Decisions made too late. Unmade calls. Calls made that weren’t answered. Missed connections. Being at the right place at the wrong time. Excuses. I was caught in the web of my own cause and effect and the resulting karma was ripening. Ripening of karma meant that payment was due pronto. And who paid for my own karma? Me. No checks accepted. No credit cards. And there sure as heck weren’t any I.O.U’s.

Only one place left to go. Back east. Back to a place I no longer called home. Back to a mom I hadn’t lived with or seen in many years. She had a new house in a quiet semi-retirement community. She had a spare room. Two-car garage. Free internet. And a few conditions…

Chapter 5 – Arriving in Nadir

In the morning, I awoke before sunup, knowing that it was my last day on the road. I didn’t want to hang around a motel room when I still had a few hundred miles to go. Soon I’d cross the Mississippi River and be in another state. I’d see things that hadn’t been seen in years: Hardee’s, Sunoco, Steak ‘n Shake, and White Castle.

Driving into the rising sun. Crossing into a state that had a top speed of 65. I saw more snow. When I was partially through the state, I stopped and got gas. It was definitely colder and I stepped over some snow to get to the pump. Being almost “home” was starting to suck.

The end stretch of the 2,000-mile journey led through flatlands and farmlands with intermittent groves of trees to eradicate the geographical monotony. How dull and colorless compared to the dramatic scenery of Arizona and New Mexico. Those miles rolled by as I reluctantly headed east to a “home” I had never seen since Mom moved to her one-story dwelling eight years ago.

The miles vanished. My arrival was imminent. I glanced at traffic heading west and recalled how it was when I was driving in that direction—full of hope. Now, I was full of despair, full of failure. Each mile led me closer to the “cornfield with lights” as my father, who had escaped before me, referred to it.

I changed to a smaller two-lane road that would lead me to within a mile of Mom’s new house. I had long ago memorized her address and she’d told me which streets to take and how easy it was to find. The new subdivision was called Hampton Lake and it was for older people. She’d sent me some pictures of her house and it was as generic as any modern one-story frame house with neutral colors and a few windows offset by some shrubbery and trees. Passed a place where I used to work and saw it had been replaced with a mart type store. Couldn’t help noticing the traffic signals were the old fashioned kind that were strung on wires rather than posts that extended across the intersection like they did in L.A.

I took a wrong turn and had to go another mile in some suburban/country area before I found the right street. I drove slower than normal until I saw the large wooden Hampton Lake sign. Next to it was an American flag. As I drove to the end of the cul de sac I had reached the End Point of my journey.

 

notes from nadir paperbackAmazon Kindlehttp://www.amazon.com/Notes-from-Nadir-ebook/dp/B00486UDJA

Paperbackhttp://www.amazon.com/Notes-Nadir-Lisa-Maliga/dp/1493519077/

B&N Nookhttp://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/notes-from-nadir-lisa-maliga/1100144163?ean=2940012697790

More links can be found here: http://lisamaliga.com/notesfromnadir.htm 

Out of the Blue: A Novel – NEW Cover, NEW Excerpt

out of the blue a novel by lisa maligaCopyright 2014 by Lisa Maliga

Most of my newly revised novel, Out of the Blue, occurs in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Back then, a person could board an airplane with a large bottle of shampoo in their carryon bags. Back in the era where in-flight movies were shown on a pull-down screen and they shut the lights off in the cabin. Back when they issued silverware with meals, and you didn’t have to pay extra for dinner as it was part of the cost. Those days when people smoked on airplanes, although they were confined to the back seats.

Customs consisted of being asked why I was in England, how much money I had, they didn’t bother to look, and a kindly older gentleman wished me a “happy holiday!”

I visited Cornwall and saw Pendennis Castle. In Falmouth, I was surprised to see supermarket cashiers sitting down on the job. Traveling to a small Cornish town, I discovered the local Jigsaw Puzzle Club met every Tuesday afternoon in the library’s upstairs reading room.

As London was too expensive, I took a train to the Cotswolds. There I stumbled upon a small country inn that served as a model for the Windrush Arms Hotel.

I’ve contemplated rewriting this book for over a year and only got around to it this summer. This book has romantic elements, but I feel it’s more suited to coming of age/contemporary fiction categories. Out of the Blue contains scenes that convey why Sylvia’s attracted to older men, and we see another side to Mrs. Gardner.

Here’s a scene that describes main character Sylvia Gardner’s burgeoning obsession with the English actor:

Having more information on Alexander, she was relieved that she could see his current flick, Up In the Air. It was playing in a second run movie theatre on the other side of town.

She made the trek to the Eastside Theatre, a white brick building surrounded by an empty parking lot. Weeds sprouted from cracks near the edge of the sidewalk. At noon on Sunday, the movie house looked deserted.

Sylvia pulled her car into a space and got out. The humidity was the same as the temperature. Her nervousness accelerated her own perspiration; she was seeing a feature film starring her newly beloved. 

Up In the Air was about the adventures of a turn-of-the-century English balloonist who wanted to fly over the Himalayas. 

She gave her two bucks to the guy behind the box office window. A hefty woman at the concession stand stared into space. The enticing popcorn boiled from the trapdoor inside the machine, the sound and scent permeating the lobby.

Inside the cool, dark theatre, third row back. She rested her bare legs on the seat in front of her and waited for the event. Minutes later, he appeared. In the cinema, she encountered Alexander Thorpe looming several feet high. The stereo amplified his timbre. His British accent sounded overly proper to her ears. Amidst the lightly populated movie house she sat, her infatuation moving and speaking on screen expressly for her. The sight of him enraptured her. Flying above a pristine landscape in a brightly colored balloon, she soared along with him. Alexander Thorpe, the man who had appeared out of the blue.

Sylvia was bathed in the reflected light from the screen and watched him glide past the Swiss Alps as he watched the magnificent scenery. She envisioned herself onboard. For a fraction of a second, she really was there, her feet touching the basket’s bottom, his hand reaching for hers. They were about to look into each other’s eyes when she was back in the third row of the Richport cinema keeping cool on a quiet Sunday afternoon.

Her fixation intensified over the months. In October, she was working a few hours overtime at the drugstore. Her increased wages were not enough to allow her to make a down payment on a plane ticket to London, but if she saved her money, then the likelihood of meeting the actor would increase. She realized the Englishman was not going to stop by Jenson’s Drugstore and purchase a pack of Marlboro’s and a Playboy. The only way to find the man was to journey to his homeland. Sylvia kept her desire to herself, for who would understand her burgeoning obsession with an actor of some renown? A man old enough to be her father; a man she had never met?

Summary:

It all began in the summer of 1979 …

Sylvia Gardner is a naïve library clerk who lives with her dysfunctional mother in Richport, Illinois. Vivian tells her daughter not to trust men because they only want to use her. After being dumped by her first boyfriend, Sylvia falls in love with an English actor after watching him on a PBS drama. Researching Alexander Thorpe’s life and career for two years, she saves her money so she can visit him in his Cotswolds village. She stays at the Windrush Arms Hotel, soon discovering they share a secret connection.

Complications ensue when Harry Livingstone, the hotel’s drunken proprietor, takes a fancy to the young American. As in her dreams, Sylvia and Alexander get together – but with unexpected results.

Amazon Kindle version: Out of the Blue 

Amazon Kindle UK version: Out of the Blue 

PAPERBACK version: Out of the Blue 

Barnes & Noble version: Out of the Blue 

iTunes version: Out of the Blue 

Smashwords version: Out of the Blue

Out of the Blue: A Novel ~ Arriving 9/22/14

By Lisa Maliga

Copyright 2014

Here’s the official description:

 out of the blue a novel by lisa maliga

It all began in the summer of 1979 …

Sylvia Gardner is a naïve library clerk who lives with her dysfunctional mother in Richport, Illinois. Vivian tells her daughter not to trust men because they only want to use her. After being dumped by her first boyfriend, Sylvia falls in love with an English actor after watching him on a PBS drama. Researching Alexander Thorpe’s life and career for two years, she saves her money so she can visit him in his Cotswolds village. She stays at the Windrush Arms Hotel, soon discovering they share a secret connection.

Complications ensue when Harry Livingstone, the hotel’s drunken proprietor, takes a fancy to the young American. As in her dreams, Sylvia and Alexander get together – but with unexpected results.

 

Amazon Kindle version: Out of the Blue 

Amazon Kindle UK version: Out of the Blue 

PAPERBACK version: Out of the Blue

Barnes & Noble version: Out of the Blue

iTunes version: Out of the Blue

Smashwords version: Out of the Blue