Here’s a little about the book.
Mallory Johansen has nearly given up on thinking she’ll get her act together – the one where she plays the part of an adult – by the time she hits thirty. As it is she’s desperate and depressed. Her only friend is leaving town, she’s paired to work with a man who can’t stand her, and she finds herself homeless. Definitely hasn’t mastered being a grown-up yet.
Otis Bell wants nothing more than to play his guitar, book acoustic bands to perform at his upcoming music venue, and be in charge of his own life. Instead, he’s working full time in his family’s auto shop. He only owns half the supposed music venue, which stands as an abandoned church and needs more than a little work. When his best friend moves away, he’s paired with an aloof girl he’s never liked as partner, and stretches himself thin working too many hours.
The Chapel is the little music venue that could. Full of potential. Full of ugly carpet, peeling paint, and exhausting work. Mallie and Otis navigate their way through a fledgling partnership, trying their darnedest to get the place up and running, while trying pretty hard not to fall in love in the process.
Jess B. Moore has shared an extract with us today so grab the drink of your choice, that chair and enjoy.
(Warning – strong language.)
***** beginning of extract*****
This scene from The Chapel is taken from the first chapter, introducing Mallie, her cousin Tyler, and setting up the story which will unfold. The book starts with Tyler dropping a bomb on Mallie and throwing her life into a tailspin!
The thing about being in your late twenties is that you’re supposed to have it all figured out. The career, the house, the long term relationship, the life plans sprawling out before you. You’re expected to have your shit together.
I don’t have a career. Not really. I’m still figuring out what I want to do with my life. I take photos and I’m good at it, but I don’t enjoy wedding photography or infant photography or running wild toddler photography. I haven’t found a way to make money doing nature or still life or anything else with my camera. I help at my Aunt Violet’s vintage shop that barely brings in enough revenue to keep me on the payroll.
No house. Not one that’s mine. Not one I want to live in for any length of time. The place I rent is small, smells bad, and the landlord is suspect. The neighbors are loud and disrespectful of my desire to sleep during the nighttime hours.
I have never had a long term relationship. I can’t imagine one will crop up before I hit my thirties. The guys I’ve dated have been few and far between and never serious.
My life plans are vague at best. Dismal and depressing at worst.by
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