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Turning Pages by Tristi Pinkston is a delightful story. The blurb reads:

“With his pride and her prejudice, what could possibly go wrong?

“When the arrogant Blake Hansen steals Addie Preston’s promotion at the library, he pretty much rubs her nose in it. But Addie, who dreams of being a full-fledged librarian, decides to stick it out. She loves surrounding herself with books and keeping her father’s memory alive in the building where they spent so much time together.

“Soon, Addie learns that her beloved library will be torn down to make room for a larger facility, and she has to make a choice. Fight, or let go?

“To complicate things, she finds herself attracted to Blake, who is engaged to someone else. Will Blake and Addie ever resolve their differences?”

Turning Pages is a clean, sweet romance. Perfect for crisp fall afternoons when the children are in school.

I could relate to Addie when it came to a reoccurring weakness. As someone who has had her share of needing someone to open my car because I left my keys inside (I have also climbed through a kitchen window more times than I care to think about), I understood.

At one point in the story, Rob, a crush of many years, explained to Addie that just because he asked her to go bowling and sat with his arm around her, he didn’t consider it a date, because he just got engaged. Then when she left, he followed her to the parking lot. There she had locked her keys in her car—again. Fortunately (though she would rather it had been anyone but him at that moment), he knew how to open her car for her.

Unfortunately, not long after, she did it again in the parking lot of a grocery store just when Rob walked by with his new fiancé. Addie’s arms were overfilled with grocery bags, but there was no way she was going to tell him. When he offered to help, she insisted that she was fine (she didn’t want him to find out her keys were locked inside her car.)

“The sack slipped again, and a hand came from behind me and caught it. ‘Here,’ a voice said, and I turned to look into Blake’s eyes.

“Blake.” I tried not to let my surprise show. . . “Hi, sweetie,” I said. “Did you find the . . . jam?”

“Jam?” He raised an eyebrow.

I held my breath and sent him furious telepathic messages. . . “The jam you went back in the store to get, which is why I’m out here waiting for you?”

“Oh, the jam.” He nodded slowly. “That jam. You know, it’s the oddest thing. They were out of the kind you wanted. But I found a few other things.” He held up his own sack. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Here, let me take a couple of those bags.”

Introductions were made and Blake announced he was helping Addie make dinner. Rob insisted on helping her carry bags and when she said she rode with Blake, Blake’s smile froze. Then she remembered–Blake rode a motorcycle. Her story was about to crumple.

“Where are you parked, Blake?” Rob asked.

“Over here.” We started to walk in the direction Blake indicated. My mind was racing furiously. . . .

“Here we are.” Blake stopped next to a gorgeous blue pickup truck. That thing looked fresh off the showroom floor and gleamed even more impressively than [Rob’s fiance’s] diamond. He set his bags in the back, then took mine. Rob put the one he carried in the back as well, then pushed his hands into his pockets.

“Well, again, it was nice to meet you.” Blake wrapped his arm around my shoulders and brought me in for a little hug. “Addie told me all about you.”

“All about me?” Rob’s voice cracked.

“I’m pretty sure she did,” Blake said.

Finally, after more idle chat, Rob left.

“Blake, you just saved my life,” I whispered as soon as I felt it was safe.

“We’ll talk about it later. First, we’ve got to get these bags out of this perfect stranger’s truck.”

One of the bonuses of Turning Pages is the book recommendations Addie makes throughout the story. At the end of the book her picks (and the fabulous book Dune) are listed with a url to Addie’s blog where the reader can learn more.

You can get Turning Pages here.

Tristi Pinkston is the author of twelve books, the mother of four children, the wife of one husband, the taker of very long naps, and the reader of thousands of books.”

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