If you are looking for a great escape that takes you to coastal Alabama and New Orleans, The Hideaway is your perfect read.  Over the last few summers, we vacationed in New Orleans and Gulf Shores with a side trip to Fairhope, Alabama.  The Hideaway took me back to those beautiful locales and I loved it.  

Sara's life is thriving in New Orleans.  Her antique shop Bits and Pieces is hitting its stride and Sara feels at home in the French Quarter when she receives a call from her grandmother's attorney.  Mags, Sara's quirky but beloved grandmother, has passed away and Sara must return to Sweet Bay, Alabama for the reading of her will.  Sara learns that Mags has given her The Hideaway, a run down B & B, that is also home to Mags' best friends.  Mags has also tasked Sara with restoring The Hideaway and bringing it back to its former glory.  Initially, Sara feels that she will do the repairs, sell the property and head back to her life in New Orleans, but as she digs further into the history of the house and her grandmother, she's isn't quite so sure of those plans.  During the restoration, Sara uncovers a box in the attic and uncovers a whole other side to her grandma that she never knew existed.  Between wanting to learn more about her grandma's life and Sara's developing relationship with her contractor Crawford, staying in Sweet Bay may be just what Sara needs but a real estate developer has his eye on The Hideaway and soon Sara may be forced to make a decision between returning to her successful life in New Orleans or staying to fight for The Hideaway.  

The Hideaway is perfect Southern fiction with just the right amount of romance mixed in.  I could picture all the characters perfectly, from quirky Mags to grouchy Major.  I really enjoyed this novel and look forward to reading more from Lauren Denton.  

I received this book courtesy of Thomas Nelson through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.  

I am always so excited to start reading a Karen White novel because I know I'm in for a treat.  Her books are full of great characters, interesting storylines, picturesque Southern locales and plenty of suspense and plot twists.  If all that sounds good to you, then you need to read her latest book The Night the Lights Went Out because it is perfect!

After being blindsided by her husband cheating on her, Merilee Dunlap is looking for a fresh start.  She moves into an cottage owned by one of Sweet Apple's oldest residents Sugar Prescott.  Sugar is determined not to become involved with Merilee or her two children, but Sugar begins to see something of herself in Merilee and finds herself sharing stories of her past.  Merilee also makes fast friends with Heather Blackford, a glamorous popular woman who quickly draws Merilee into her world of wealth and privilege.  Sugar Prescott has a short list of Sweet Apple residents that she likes and Heather Blackford definitely isn't on it.  While Sugar tries to warn Merilee about Heather, Merilee believes that Sugar's concerns are unwarranted and that her friendship with Heather is true.  

I can't say enough good things about this story.  I loved how it combined the suspense of the current storyline with the reflections of Sugar's backstory.  Karen White always delivers a great read and The Night The Lights Went Out is certainly no exception!  There is a reason she is one of my favorite authors and I know that once you read a Karen White book, she will be one of your favorites as well.  

I received this book courtesy of Berkley Publishing Group through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.  I am also lucky enough to be able to share an excerpt with you below.  Hope you enjoy it!

The Night the Lights Went Out by Karen White
Excerpt for Bloggers
 
A cluster of moms stood in the parking lot surrounded by high-end SUVs following first day drop-off at Windwood Academy.  The women appeared to be listening with rapt attention to the tall blond woman in the center of their semi-circle, her hair arranged perfectly beneath her white tennis visor, her long and lean limbs brown and glowy.  Merilee noticed this last part only because her ex-mother-in-law had given her a bottle of glowy lotion for her last birthday and Lily had told her it made her look sparkly like Katy Perry in one of her videos.  Merilee had thrown out the remainder of the bottle, realizing she wasn’t the type anymore to look glowy much less sparkly.

But the blonde definitely was.  Her whole body glowed.  Her face glowed.  Even the hair visible beneath the visor appeared to be lit from within.  The woman looked vaguely familiar, and Merilee realized she’d probably been one of the mothers she’d met at the open house the previous week.  She’d only been to the one let’s-get-acquainted event, her work schedule precluding any of the various parties that were held almost exclusively on weekdays when she worked. 

Merilee was terrible with names, had been ever since she started dating Michael.  He was so good at it, always reminding her who everyone was when they were at a party, that she’d simply stopped trying.  She hoped she was only out of practice instead of permanently disabled.  Her children’s futures probably depended on it since Michael wouldn’t be there to make sure Merilee remembered the names of Lily’s friends who were or were not speaking to each other.  And which of Colin’s teachers appreciated his dreamy attitude and those who didn’t.  It had always been a game with them—her recalling every detail about a friend or teacher, details always overlooked by Michael—and then he’d fill in the missing part—the name.  But now she had to do it all on her own.

She smiled vaguely in the direction of the blond woman and her entourage and had almost made it to her van when she heard her name being called.

“Merilee?  Merilee Dunlap?”

Great.  The woman not only remembered her first name, but her last as well.  Forcing a warm smile on her face, Merilee turned.  “Oh, hello.  It’s good to see you again.”

The other women parted like the Red Sea as the tall blond walked toward Merilee and she remembered that the woman had been wearing a Lily Pulitzer sundress and two-carat diamond stud earrings when they’d met before.  But she didn’t remember her name.  “I thought that was you.  I looked for you in Mrs. Marshall’s homeroom.  I’m the room mother and wanted to welcome Lily myself.”

Merilee remembered the voice.  It was very Southern, heavily laced with dropped consonants and elongated vowels.  The most memorable part about it was that it sounded exactly like Merilee’s mother.

“We were running a bit late this morning.”  Feeling suddenly short and frumpy in her dark skirt and blazer, Merilee had the strong urge to explain.  “My son couldn’t find his new uniform shoes.  They somehow managed to find their way back into the box they came in and then got shoved so far under his bed that it took nearly twenty minutes to locate them.  And then Lily spilled her bowl of cereal and milk down the front of her skirt, and I had to quickly iron one of her other ones so she could wear it.”

The woman gave her a warm smile from behind dark Chanel sunglasses as if she knew exactly what it was like to be a frazzled single mother.  “Bless your heart.  And on the first day at a new school.  You’ll get used to the routine, I promise.  It took me a whole month to realize that I should have a skirt and blouse for every school day plus one, and have Patricia have them cleaned and ironed as soon as my girls dropped them on the floor.”

Not exactly sure how to reslake, Merilee picked out the first confusing part of the sentence.  “Patricia?”

“My house manager.  I couldn’t live without her.  You know how crazy busy it is with all of the kids’ schedules.”  She reached into her large handbag that was more briefcase than purse, with a designer’s logo sprouting over its surface like kudzu.  “I was going to stick this in the mail to you, but since you’re here I’ll give it to you now.  It’s a sign-up sheet for parties and field trips—it lists everything for the year.  Just let me know your availabilities and ask Lily to bring it in to school and give to Bailey as soon as you can.  Bailey is very responsible and will make sure it gets to me.”  The woman smiled, her teeth perfect.  “Only sign up for four—every mother wants to be at every single event, but then it just gets crowded—plus there won’t be room on the bus for the kids.”

“Only four…” Merilee took the list and looked at it, almost letting out an audible sigh when she saw the woman’s name at the top of the page, Heather Blackford, Class Mother, followed by three different phone numbers.  Now she remembered.  Heather had a daughter in Colin’s class, too, both girls’ names starting with ‘B’. 

“Yes.  And if you could turn it back in tomorrow that would be terrific.  I’ll have Claire put it all in a spreadsheet and I’ll email it to all the mothers.  Please write neatly—Claire has a way of butchering your name if she can’t read it.”

“Claire?”

“My personal assistant.  She’s only part time but I would simply die of exhaustion without her.”

The ladies behind her all nodded in understanding.

“Yes, well, I’ll take a look at it and get it back to you tomorrow.”  Merilee was already wondering how she was going to approach her boss to ask him for more time off.  The divorce and move had already eaten up all of her vacation time, and although Max was kind and understanding, everyone had their limits.

“And don’t forget the ‘I survived my first week of fourth grade’ party at my lake house this Saturday.  I’ll be handing out disposable cameras to all the moms and dads to take pictures throughout the year at our various events—I like to do little photo albums for all the kids and the teachers at the end of the year.”  She beamed, like it was just a small thing.  “Oh, and I took the liberty of signing you up for a dessert because we’re overrun with vegetables and dip and pimiento cheese.  I figured you’d know how to make something sweet.”

“Oh…”  Merilee simply blinked her eyes for a moment, wondering if Heather had meant to be insulting.

“Because you’re from South Georgia.  You mentioned that when we met.  You said I had the same accent as your mother.”

Feeing oddly relieved, Merilee said, “Yes, of course.  Where did you say you were from?”

“Here and there—but mostly Georgia.  I can always tell a native Georgian.  Hard to hide it, isn’t it?  It’s almost like no matter how far you go in life, all you have to do is open your mouth and somebody knows exactly where you’re from.”

There was something in the way Heather said it that made Merilee pause.  “Yes, well, I’ll call my mother today and ask her what she might recommend.”

“Wonderful.”  Heather beamed.  She pointed a key fob toward a black Porsche SUV with vanity plates that read YERSERV, and the rear door slowly raised.  As the other mothers oohed and ahhed appropriately, Merilee stared into the trunk where fourteen metallic gift bags with blue or pink tissue paper expertly pleated at the tops were arranged in neat rows.

Heather moved toward the car.  “A little lagniappe—that’s Cajun for ‘a little extra’ to all of my Yankee friends—for the first day of school.  My treat.  I thought we could each give our children a bag at pickup today and then head over to Scoops for ice cream afterwards.  I’ve already reserved the party room at the back of the store.  Claire is picking up the helium balloons this morning and will have it all decorated in Windwood colors.”

“You are just too much,” one of the mothers said as the other women eagerly stepped toward the car and took a bag.
 

I can't help but enjoy the Mirabelle Bevan series.  I feel like she is part Agent Carter, part Nancy Drew, and I find it all makes a fun read.  

In this latest installment, Mirabelle and her associate Vesta find themselves in a little over their heads when they come to the aid of Lindon Claremont, a saxophone player who happens to be Vesta's childhood friend.  Lindon comes to Vesta for help when he finds himself being sought for questioning regarding the disappearance of debutante Rose Bellamy Gore.  Mirabelle quickly determines that there is something amiss and goes to London to investigate.  

Mirabelle's adventures make for a fun read and I enjoyed this trip back in time to the London and the jazz clubs as Mirabelle searched for answers.

I received this book courtesy of Kensington Books through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.  

The Hope Chest is a beautiful story about family traditions, unconditional love, grace and courage. 

The Hope Chest takes me back to all the wonderful memories I have of my mother and grandmother.  My mother had her own hope chest and I fondly remember how intrigued I was with all of the things inside.  She had a beautiful rich brown lace dress with a velvet sash that I thought was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen.  I remember putting it on and twirling around our living room.  I was sure my mom was the most glamorous person ever born.  My grandmother also had a cherished set of desert rose china that she kept on display in her china cabinet.  I hadn't really thought about either of these things for years and reading The Hope Chest instantly took me back to that time in my life.  

The books also are precious to me because of the Ozarks setting.  I was born and raised in Southwest Missouri and still live here to this day.  I'm also an alumni of Drury University in Springfield, Missouri so that particular reference to the chapel there as well as the narrative about the Muny and other locations in Forest Park brought back even more memories for me.  

I think for all of these reasons I'm drawn to Viola Shipman's books, both The Hope Chest and The Charm Bracelet.  The books are like wonderful trips down memory lane.  In my opinion, we could use more novels about family traditions and passing those traditions down through the generations.  

I just thoroughly enjoyed this book and hope there are many more Viola Shipman novels in the future.  The Hope Chest would be a perfect book for a book club discussion, Mother's Day gift or to share with a close friend.  

I received this book courtesy of Thomas Dunne Books St. Martin's Press through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.