When she was a kid in Scranton, Pennsylvania, Geralyn Vivian Ruane Corcillo dreamed of one day becoming the superhero Dyna Girl. So, she did her best and grew up to constantly pick up litter and rescue animals. At home, she loves watching B&W movies, British mysteries, and the NY Giants. Corcillo lives in a drafty old house in Hollywood with her husband Ron, a guy who’s even cooler than Kip Dynamite.
Geralyn is not only an author of romantic comedy and women’s fiction novels, novellas, and short stories, she is also an avid and eclectic reader. You can read her book reviews here on A Slice of Orange, in her monthly column Things That Make Me Go Mmmrrh . She loves to connect with readers on Facebook and Twitter—drop her a line or leave a comment here.
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Girls’ Night Out by Glynis Astie is just released and available now! I adored indulging in this book – a hilarious and heartfelt romp that conjures up the bubbly glee of The Facts of Life and the sassy wisdom of The Golden Girls.
Amanda, Jayne, and Holly have been best friends since girlhood. And now, with their thirties on the horizon, they still have each other’s backs as they gossip, goad, and, well, get tipsy. Amanda has always been fabulous, successful, and in control – but can her besties help her navigate the unexpected curve ball life throws her way? It is such fun watching Amanda bulldoze her way through life in stellar footwear even as her playbook is being ripped to shreds.
Jayne has been working her butt off for years trying to get that promotion to anchor at her local news station. But her new boss Tony is determined to make her life miserable, treating her like a cub reporter who just fell off the turnip truck. Who cares if he’s really hot? He’s a total jerk. Okay, so maybe everyone can’t see what a jerk he is … but he totally is! As that anchor chair comes within her reach and she starts falling for Tony, Jayne realizes that as an ambitious reporter with goals of advancement, she will have to make a decision between her dream job and her dream guy. And she’s pretty sure that not even her best friends can help her out of this dilemma. Oh, how I feel for Jayne and her turmoil throughout this book, even as she tries to dodge the really tough decisions with some pretty spectacularly ill-advised shenanigans!!
Holly just wants life to feel right for a change. It always feels so wrong. Wrong job, wrong guy, wrong hairstyle. Can her best friends offer any guidance? They are such movers and shakers and Holly just … isn’t like them. It seems that Link, the nerd she’s been friends with since grade school, is the only one who truly gets her. And he’s not such a nerd any longer… Following Holly’s story is just such a charming delight!
As you lose yourself in this romcom, Astie will make you feel like you are sitting at the table with your own margarita, ready to jump in with your two cents that might be anything from warm to snarky. You will feel that you are a part of a an intimate circle of friends, always ready to laugh, cry, or pass the fries. Girls’ Night Out by Glynis Astie, Available now!
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When she was a kid in Scranton, Pennsylvania, Geralyn Vivian Ruane Corcillo dreamed of one day becoming the superhero Dyna Girl. So, she did her best and grew up to constantly pick up litter and rescue animals. At home, she loves watching B&W movies, British mysteries, and the NY Giants. Corcillo lives in a drafty old house in Hollywood with her husband Ron, a guy who’s even cooler than Kip Dynamite.
Geralyn is not only an author of romantic comedy and women’s fiction novels, novellas, and short stories, she is also an avid and eclectic reader. You can read her book reviews here on A Slice of Orange, in her monthly column Things That Make Me Go Mmmrrh . She loves to connect with readers on Facebook and Twitter—drop her a line or leave a comment here.
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When she was a kid in Scranton, Pennsylvania, Geralyn Vivian Ruane Corcillo dreamed of one day becoming the superhero Dyna Girl. So, she did her best and grew up to constantly pick up litter and rescue animals. At home, she loves watching B&W movies, British mysteries, and the NY Giants. Corcillo lives in a drafty old house in Hollywood with her husband Ron, a guy who’s even cooler than Kip Dynamite.
Geralyn is not only an author of romantic comedy and women’s fiction novels, novellas, and short stories, she is also an avid and eclectic reader. You can read her book reviews here on A Slice of Orange, in her monthly column Things That Make Me Go Mmmrrh . She loves to connect with readers on Facebook and Twitter—drop her a line or leave a comment here.
Catch a Falling Star is Corcillo’s only romantic comedy to feature an alpha hero (she tends to write beta heroes.)
When TV star Wendy Hunter is about to have her most closely guarded secret viciously exposed by the paparazzi, she desperately tosses out a juicy bone to distract them: she announces her engagement to southern high school football coach Colin Scott. One problem. She’s not really engaged to him. In fact, she barely knows him. Um … barely. But will one unforgettable night last year be enough to get him to go along with her charade? To Wendy’s surprise, Colin agrees … as long as she plays by his rules.
Keep scrolling to read an excerpt …
“But what about a ring?” Becks Astie called. “You’re engaged, but I notice there’s no ring. Where’s the ring?”
Wendy kept her smile bright even as the reporters started murmuring their excitement about The Ring. She laughed as sweetly as wind chimes on the breeze as she leaned into Colin. But what was she going to say?
“It’s simple,” Colin announced, kissing her on the head. “I’m—”
“He’s going to make me one!” And Wendy gave a little hop of glee. “Isn’t it too exciting?”
“Make you one,” one of the reporters echoed. “You mean, like, out of scrap metal? Or wood?”
Wendy managed to turn her hysterical giggle into another trill of laughter. “No, I mean he’s going to design it himself. Nobody knows this, but … Colin loves to design jewelry. It’s how he relaxes.”
Wendy braced herself for a pinch or a poke from Colin, but he just pulled her closer. “It’s true,” he said, smiling like a goofball as he squeezed her shoulders. “But Wendy is so into Hello Kitty that it’s a challenge getting the whiskers just right. And I still haven’t decided on the best stones for the bow.”
The front sidewalk erupted with queries.
“Really, Wendy?”
“You’re going to have a Hello Kitty engagement ring?”
“Coach, can you post your designs online?”
“Has Wendy worn your jewelry designs before, Coach?”
Wendy turned to Colin and looked at him with a cutesy-fake-mad face. “Colin …”
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When she was a kid in Scranton, Pennsylvania, Geralyn Vivian Ruane Corcillo dreamed of one day becoming the superhero Dyna Girl. So, she did her best and grew up to constantly pick up litter and rescue animals. At home, she loves watching B&W movies, British mysteries, and the NY Giants. Corcillo lives in a drafty old house in Hollywood with her husband Ron, a guy who’s even cooler than Kip Dynamite.
Geralyn is not only an author of romantic comedy and women’s fiction novels, novellas, and short stories, she is also an avid and eclectic reader. You can read her book reviews here on A Slice of Orange, in her monthly column Things That Make Me Go Mmmrrh . She loves to connect with readers on Facebook and Twitter—drop her a line or leave a comment here.
Miss Adventure has hit the top of the Amazon Kindle charts and has won awards for both humor and romance. Keep scrolling to read an excerpt …
Can a daydreaming city girl find her backbone by going on daring adventures with an adrenaline junkie?
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“Yes, Lisa. Naked.”
“Naked, naked?” I swallow, then take a deep breath. He can’t be serious. “You want my naked skin touching this thing?” I look at the long, black wetsuit in my hands. We drove all the way back to his house up in the hills of Glendale just to get this stupid suit that’s not going to fit me, no matter how naked I get.
“It’s the best way.”
“So there are other ways.”
Jack sets the duffle on his kitchen table. “Yes,” he says, unzipping the bag. “Some people wear a swimsuit underneath, or Under Armour.”
“Armor?” It’s for the sharks, I know it!
“Under Armour. It’s like a spandex body suit.”
“Let me do that, then. You must have one lying around here somewhere.” I look around Jack’s house. Nothing.
Just beyond the big wooden table in the kitchen, the room morphs into a family room. But the kitchen looks like a normal kitchen with a fridge and stove and all, and the family room just looks like a regular family room. Couch, TV, coffee table. No spandex lying around anywhere.
I wander into the living room at the front of the house and hit pay dirt. At least, potential pay dirt. The spacious room, which I think is supposed to be part dining room—the demarcation is unclear because of the mountain bike and the saddle—is messy with gear, junk, and working-type stuff, just like his office at Into the Wild.
Jack follows me.
“Lisa, do you know the point of a wetsuit?”
I don’t answer. As far as I’m concerned, a wetsuit is for wearing if you’re on a show like The Man from Atlantis or if you work at Sea World.
He gets in front of me, right in my face. “It keeps frigid water away from your skin.”
“But you were in shorts this morning!”
“I had to test the suit, and I didn’t want to wait until July. Anyway, I’m a little more used to it than you are.”
“Then the body armor stuff will keep me a lot warmer than wearing a wetsuit with nothing on underneath.”
“Wrong.”
In that one word I hear the thumping finality of a guillotine.
“Anything you wear underneath,” he explains, facing me squarely, “even a bathing suit or a pair of underwear, allows air between the suit and your skin.”
“Letting your skin breathe is good. I saw that James Bond movie where—”
“Air in a wetsuit is bad,” he says, cutting me off as he heads back to the kitchen.
I have no choice but to follow him. Back to the kitchen. Back to the duffle of doom. He starts unloading the bag. A small yellow box, flippers.
“It increases the chances that ice-cold water can seep in,” he continues. “And guess what, Lisa?” He turns to meet my eyes. “It won’t seep back out again. You’ll just freeze your ass off until you become a medical risk. Then I’ll bring you back.”
He turns his attention back to unloading the duffle. Is that a bulletproof vest? What kind of adventure is this going to be? Beginners have to deal with bullets? He must be purposely trying to scare me to see if I’ll back down.
I look back at the wetsuit I’m holding. It looks so much slimmer than I feel.
“So, I just get naked and squeeze in?”
Jack hands me the little yellow box. “This should help.”
I look down at it. “It’s cornstarch.”
He taps his nose. “Full marks for being able to read your native language.”
I look at him. I’m guessing he doesn’t want me to bake a cake with it. “Thanks?”
“Use it like talcum powder.”
I am so totally screwed. “Where do I suit up?”
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More info →A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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