Search results for ""Author Carla Malden""

Social misfit Mari Caldwell desperately wants to get on with her life. If only she could get there faster―specifically to Yale―and leave behind all the things that make her anxious: driving a car, crossing bridges, her peers, her parents’ divorce. Mari only feels at ease behind the lens of her vintage Leica. Her camera keeps the world―and the people in it―at a safe distance.When Mari comes across an old scrapbook of her mother’s, she discovers her white collar parents were once blue denim hippies. She ends up fighting with her mother and storming out. She pedals her bicycle into a downpour, swerves to avoid an oncoming jeep, and flies smack into a tree. Mari climbs into an abandoned VW van bearing the ghost of a psychedelic paint job, and passes out.The next morning, Mari wakes up to the sound of music. A young couple wander through the glen like hippie gypsies, playing recorder and tambourine. Mari accepts their offer of a ride into San Francisco. But something is wrong; Mari can’t quite figure out what. The skyline, her father’s address, the music on the radio. Everything is slightly off. Except Jimmy, the driver of the van. There’s something about him that calms her inner chatter. Only after she says good-bye to the merry band and runs headlong into a war protest does Mari being to realize: it is June, 1967.In the epicenter of the Summer of Love, Mari makes friends with the would-be rock band, meets the grandfather she never knew, and falls in love. In spite of herself, Mari discovers that love changes everything. It even changes her.A fun and touching novel about the people who raise us, the times that define us, and the stumbling blocks on our way to being a grown-up, Shine Until Tomorrow tells the story of a girl obsessed with the future who must visit the past to learn to live in the present.

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When I got home, I did what I had stopped myself from doing earlier. I Googled the name: Aimee Laroche. I wondered what I would have done if I had found myself embroiled in this scenario fifteen, even ten years ago. Would I have hired a private detective to track this woman down? Would I have passed sleepless nights waiting for him to hand over a manila envelope containing long lens black-and-whites of a femme fatale smoking Gauloises at a sidewalk café? Probably not. But Googling was irresistible. Like everything on screen, it required no effort. It was so easy.Maura Fielder looks like she has the perfect life: every expectation fulfilled. But under the illusory surface of perfection, Maura finds herself blindsided by what she discovers on her husband’s computer. She has no emotional cubby hole into which she can shove this ghost from her husband’s past, so instead, Maura upends her life—thrashing her marriage, alienating her daughter, and eroding her own moral center. On the verge of sacrificing everything she holds dear to her own obsession, how does Maura manage to regain her equilibrium and reclaim her life?In this post-privacy new world, any woman can find heartache if she searches hard enough.

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“Go for a run.” That’s what Charlotte Most said to her husband Paul on that ordinary day. And when he did, her life was never the same.Yet Charlotte remains the same: mother, daughter, friend, interior designer… and, although single… wife.Until she meets Brian. When she’s surprised by his little Tiffany-blue box– and the proposal that goes with it – she is forced to make a decision. But questions begin to consume her. Who will Charlotte be if she’s no longer a widow? Does old love prohibit new? Does new love diminish old? How can she marry her one-and-only twice? Heartache and hope propel her through a perilous journey from devoted widow to joyful fiancée.My Two And Only is a love story about clinging to the past and embracing the present. About memory and the stories we tell ourselves. About identities, inner and outward, and the struggle to make peace between them. Humorous and insightful, poignant and profound, My Two And Only explores the question: how much happiness can we allow ourselves… and which self might that be?

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