Dear Readers, please join me in welcoming Valerie Goree. Get ready for some gorgeous pictures and an interesting story--hers and the book! Blessings, Christina
Thank you for hosting me, Christina:
Introduce yourself?
Hi, readers. My name is Valerie Massey Goree. I include my maiden name because my parents didn’t give me a middle name. Hmmm. They did for my brother.
I’ve lived in the USA for a long time, but I was born in South Africa and grew up in Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, in Central Africa. Both were former British Colonies, so I speak with a British accent, tempered by my many years in Texas. When people meet me for the first time, many mention my accent and ask where I’m from. Most guess England, but I’ve only been there on vacation.
Tell us about the book? I'm excited!
My latest release is my eleventh novel: Meet Me In the Yorkshire Dales. It is Book 2 in the series titled: From England with Love and …Treachery. I visited the Yorkshire Dales to conduct research for the story.
Blurb
To inherit her grandfather’s estate, Roxanne Clarke has to prove the identity of her birth mother. Considering all the ancestry help online, that shouldn’t be a problem. However, the only clues Roxanne has are an old photograph and hints provided by a member of her grandfather’s household that her mother was born in Yorkshire.
Accompanied by her best friend, Avery, and Avery’s twin brother, Lucas, Roxanne travels to England. Their attempts to identify Roxanne’s mother send them from one village to another. To add to their frustration, a fellow Texan follows them, threatens them, and tries to locate the woman first.
Lucas has been in love with Roxanne since high school but botched their relationship two years ago. While helping her find her mother, can he salvage their once-blossoming romance, build a new beginning, and keep her safe when the Texan’s actions intensify?
Meet Me In the Yorkshire Dales
Excerpt from Chapter 1
Fanning her face with a magazine did little to relieve the stuffiness in the waiting room. The indoor temperature almost matched the early June morning. Roxanne glanced across at the sofa by the window where a blonde with a movie star figure sat and said, “You’d think lawyers could afford air-conditioning.”
“I thought the same thing.” The woman gathered her shoulder-length curls into a ponytail and dabbed her nape with a tissue. “Did you by any chance receive a letter demanding your presence here today?”
“I did. It’s all a bit mysterious.” Roxanne adjusted the patch covering her left eye. “I don’t think I’m in trouble, and I know I don't have a wealthy aunt who’s named me in her will.” She’d fashioned her long hair into a twist secured with a claw clip to keep it off her neck and out of her eyes. The patch seemed to attract stray strands.
“Me neither.” The woman pointed to the ornate metal clock on the opposite wall. “Mr. Ogden’s running late. I—”
The inner door opened and a tall, elderly woman emerged. “Mr. Ogden will see you now. Please come through.”
A sweet but pleasant floral scent surrounded the blonde as she walked past Roxanne and entered the office.
A middle-aged man in a gray suit stood beside an antique oak desk. “I’m Thomas Ogden and I apologize for the warm room and for keeping you waiting. A technician is on his way. My office is much cooler. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the two armchairs and sat in his desk chair. “Would either of you like something to drink? Coffee, water?”
Roxanne and the blonde shook their heads.
“That will be all, Mrs. Edwards.”
The tall woman exited through a side door.
The blonde settled on the chair closest to the desk and crossed her legs. The skirt of her maroon dress barely covered her thighs.
For a fleeting moment, Roxanne wished she’d worn something more sophisticated than blue jeans and a coral pink shirt. A trivial thought for such a serious occasion. She perched on the edge of a coffee-colored leather armchair and cleared her throat. Enough dawdling. “Why are we here, Mr. Ogden?”
“Straight to the point. I like that.” He smoothed the pages of a file on his desk. “Did you bring identification?”
Roxanne set her passport on the desk and the other woman produced a driver’s license.
Ogden opened the passport and looked at Roxanne. “You are Roxanne Ruth Clarke?”
“Yes.”
The lawyer picked up the driver’s license. “You are Petra Christine Vandiver?”
“I am.” Her voice had taken on a silky quality.
“With that important task out of the way, I can tell you why you were invited—”
“Summoned, more like.” Roxanne bit her lip as he raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry.”
“Please, no more interruptions. You are here because one of you is the sole heir to your grandfather’s estate.” He leaned back and folded his arms, a smug expression crossed his oval face.
Questions for the readers:
For those who read or used to read paperbacks, what is the strangest item you’ve used as a bookmark? My answer: I was in my car waiting for a friend to leave her doctor’s office and started reading a new book. When she emerged, I hunted in my glove box, center console for a piece of paper, but the only item I found that was small enough was a pair of tweezers.
Next: Have you ever gone out in public wearing something that embarrassed you when you found out? Like odd shoes, or slippers, or… I have. One day, when my kids were in elementary school, we went to the store, and while shopping, I ran into a staff member from the school where I worked. We only chatted for a few minutes, but the whole time, she had a bemused expression on her face. I continued shopping and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. Yes, I had rollers in my hair. Only three bright pink spongy things. And my kids didn’t tell me!
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