Linda Wallace does a beautiful job drawing the reader in to the hopes, dreams, and even the fears of the characters. I am intrigued by the llamas. The grace and gentleness of the animals is impressive. Ms. Wallace incorporates them into the story in a way that enhances the reader's enjoyment as well as educating about an animal we don't normally hear a lot about.
Brandon will be hard pressed to preserve his sanity and keep strict control of his heart and children, once spunky Corey incorporates herself into his life.
Big Bad Wolfe is a powerful book loaded in warmth and deep emotion that I could not put down. I have never wanted a couple to click as I did with Corey and Brandon. The storyline flows smoothly with characters true to form and believable.
Ms. Wallace gives the reader a dynamite story filled with passion that touches the heart in so many angles. So grab a chair with a box of tissues, perhaps two boxes, and cuddle up for a remarkable read that will leave a lasting impression. Ms. Wallace does more than touch the heart; she reaches deeper into the soul and that is why she gets five lighthouses. This book is worth the read.
Big Bad Wolfe is a book that is impossible to put down. It is a very emotional story that will keep you turning page after page. You are silently cheering for both Corey and Brandon to open up to each other. You want them to admit their feelings. This book builds to an explosive ending with emotions that will bring tears to your eyes.
Karen Find Out About New Books
Coffee Time Romance
I was born in Marshall, Missouri, and lived the first few years of my life with my mother and father and grandparents in a big, old farmhouse. It was mysterious and spooky with front stairs and back stairs, antiques and ghosts. I still have dreams about that house. It apparently penetrated deep into my psyche.
A few months before my sister, Barbara, was born, my mother, father and I moved a short way down the road from my grandparents’ house into a clapboarded log cabin with only three rooms. Baths were taken in tin tubs in the kitchen with water heated on the stove, though we did have an indoor toilet in a small, converted pantry. The smaller round tub had been soldered, so you had to be very careful how you sat in it to avoid a rude poke. When Barbara and I were old enough for clamp-on roller skates, we were allowed to practice in the kitchen, but you couldn’t go very far before you had to turn around.
My father was a farmer and probably would have preferred to have had sons, though I don’t ever remember him complaining about his two daughters. I don’t think he had very high expectations for us, but that proved to be a benefit, as he and our mother always seemed surprised and delighted at everything my sister and I achieved.
Perhaps the deep love and support I felt all through childhood and on into my adult years formed the interest I have in writing about families and relationships. Whether I was living in a coffee shack in Hawaii where the rent was paid by picking up macadamia nuts or in an attic in the Bronx, my family was always there for me. I wish my father had lived long enough to see my first book published. He would have been amazed.