Tuesday, November 04, 2014
Welcome to the tour of The Morbid and Sultry Tales of Genevieve Clare. J.B. Hartnett has created an awesome tale of a woman the has a morbid curiosity with death and how she is able to make this a career out of it. We also get to see how love can help us through all things.
About the author:
She has always enjoyed writing and at one time thought she could be a singer songwriter...the 'writer' part is the one that stuck. Julie is obsessed with pi...the equation(and the food). She's allergic to cats and cantaloupe and hates mushrooms...so if you ever want to give her a gift, those are out for sure.She currently lives with her own romance hero husband and two boys in Melbourne, Australia.
J.B. Hartnett can be stalked at the following locations:
Check out this awesome excerpt.
I approached Bryce Oskin, with caution, and when I reached his side, he demanded, “Who the fuck are you?”
Charm and disarm. Charm and disarm.
“I’m Genevieve Clare, Mr. Oskin,” I said with a grin. “I believe you hired me to come to your funeral? Mind if I join you?” I brought my own bag of goodies and opened a white baker’s box from Brewster’s.
“You some kind of spooky chick?” he asked, his eyes squinting as he studied me.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was… sweet on me already. “Kinda, yeah. If by spooky you mean I get paid to go to funerals, give people a nudge, and check for a heartbeat. Oh, and I live at Eden Hills. Then yeah, I’m spooky.” I grabbed a plastic fork and took a bite of amazing cake. It was always amazing, but today it seemed more amazing than usual.
“There,” I nodded toward the folder I’d set down on a little table to his side. “I just need you to sign on the dotted line. And the bag there is from Ruby. But I’m taking over the goody-bag duties, so tell me what you like and I’ll get it for you.” I licked my lips and did it seductively because I knew this was a man who appreciated a woman. Also known as a dirty old man. “Want a bite?”
“You gonna tell that Nazi Nurse Ratchet on me?” He jerked his head toward Cheryl.
“Are you gonna drop dead from half a slice of cake?” I countered.
“Nope.”
“Then I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Mr. Oskin. I visit once a week, unless I have a funeral, usually on Tuesday or Wednesday. I always bring cake for my clients. If there’s something you don’t like, just tell me. But I usually bring a selection.”
“You do this every week?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“You eat like that every week? When you see other clients?” His eyes slid up and down the length of my body.
“I have a high metabolism.” I smiled. It really was a miracle I wasn’t as big as a house. But my sweet tooth was limited to sharing with clients. I had to give myself some sort of boundaries.
He grabbed the plastic fork I’d handed him and stabbed the slice of Meyer lemon cake with vanilla bean cream cheese frosting. His eyes closed, and when they opened, he said, “God bless you.” After a few more bites, he asked, “So, you’re gonna open up my box and poke me before they burn me, right?”
“Yes, sir, I’ll make sure you’re good and dead.”
“Spooky chick.” His tone was gruff, but his lip tipped up in the corner.
I saw it with pride. Disarmament, accomplished.
Bryce Oskin had ordered the Shake N Bake. I had permission from most of the mortuaries and crematories to open the casket and check the body. I mean, you could just tell when someone was dead. By the time I had my turn with the deceased, they were most likely already embalmed. But some of them chose not to be, or if they were, they hired me to come to their place of death and make damn sure there was no chance in hell they were coming back to life.
A while back, there was a highly publicized case in Southern California. A woman had been pronounced dead and taken to the hospital morgue. But when they opened the fridge for her to be transported to the funeral home, they saw obvious signs of a struggle. She’d been put in there alive.
Yikes. I’d never been afraid of death, and, after my family died and the man I loved almost had, I embraced death in my own strange way. I made it my life’s work, I guess. While it took a lot to creep me out, that story gave me the heebie-jeebies something fierce. It was all over the news. Every staff member from the hospital to the morgue was investigated then sued or fired or both. And, of course, old people sitting in the common room of a rest home from the wee a.m. hours to beddy-bye time, saw that story six times in one day, minimum. I ended up receiving so many requests to make sure they weren’t breathing, I added the Shake N Bake to my website.
Charm and disarm. Charm and disarm.
“I’m Genevieve Clare, Mr. Oskin,” I said with a grin. “I believe you hired me to come to your funeral? Mind if I join you?” I brought my own bag of goodies and opened a white baker’s box from Brewster’s.
“You some kind of spooky chick?” he asked, his eyes squinting as he studied me.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was… sweet on me already. “Kinda, yeah. If by spooky you mean I get paid to go to funerals, give people a nudge, and check for a heartbeat. Oh, and I live at Eden Hills. Then yeah, I’m spooky.” I grabbed a plastic fork and took a bite of amazing cake. It was always amazing, but today it seemed more amazing than usual.
“There,” I nodded toward the folder I’d set down on a little table to his side. “I just need you to sign on the dotted line. And the bag there is from Ruby. But I’m taking over the goody-bag duties, so tell me what you like and I’ll get it for you.” I licked my lips and did it seductively because I knew this was a man who appreciated a woman. Also known as a dirty old man. “Want a bite?”
“You gonna tell that Nazi Nurse Ratchet on me?” He jerked his head toward Cheryl.
“Are you gonna drop dead from half a slice of cake?” I countered.
“Nope.”
“Then I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Mr. Oskin. I visit once a week, unless I have a funeral, usually on Tuesday or Wednesday. I always bring cake for my clients. If there’s something you don’t like, just tell me. But I usually bring a selection.”
“You do this every week?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“You eat like that every week? When you see other clients?” His eyes slid up and down the length of my body.
“I have a high metabolism.” I smiled. It really was a miracle I wasn’t as big as a house. But my sweet tooth was limited to sharing with clients. I had to give myself some sort of boundaries.
He grabbed the plastic fork I’d handed him and stabbed the slice of Meyer lemon cake with vanilla bean cream cheese frosting. His eyes closed, and when they opened, he said, “God bless you.” After a few more bites, he asked, “So, you’re gonna open up my box and poke me before they burn me, right?”
“Yes, sir, I’ll make sure you’re good and dead.”
“Spooky chick.” His tone was gruff, but his lip tipped up in the corner.
I saw it with pride. Disarmament, accomplished.
Bryce Oskin had ordered the Shake N Bake. I had permission from most of the mortuaries and crematories to open the casket and check the body. I mean, you could just tell when someone was dead. By the time I had my turn with the deceased, they were most likely already embalmed. But some of them chose not to be, or if they were, they hired me to come to their place of death and make damn sure there was no chance in hell they were coming back to life.
A while back, there was a highly publicized case in Southern California. A woman had been pronounced dead and taken to the hospital morgue. But when they opened the fridge for her to be transported to the funeral home, they saw obvious signs of a struggle. She’d been put in there alive.
Yikes. I’d never been afraid of death, and, after my family died and the man I loved almost had, I embraced death in my own strange way. I made it my life’s work, I guess. While it took a lot to creep me out, that story gave me the heebie-jeebies something fierce. It was all over the news. Every staff member from the hospital to the morgue was investigated then sued or fired or both. And, of course, old people sitting in the common room of a rest home from the wee a.m. hours to beddy-bye time, saw that story six times in one day, minimum. I ended up receiving so many requests to make sure they weren’t breathing, I added the Shake N Bake to my website.
****
Author: J.B. Hartnett
Genre: Romance
Rating:
**Disclaimer: A copy of this book was provided to me by the Publisher in exchange for an honest review.
My name is Genevieve Clare, professional mourner, destined to spend my days donning a black suit and throwing myself on top of caskets for money. Sometimes I mixed it up and threw myself on top of a willing warm body instead. Finding the right warm body though, that was a different story.
The Morbid and Sultry Tales of Genevieve Clare will have you in tears and laughing so hard people will look at you crazy....this actually happened to me. When reading the name and the short description about this book I thought this was going to be a weird story about a women that has a bit of OCD over death. That was ABSOLUTELY not the case. Just prepare yourself for some sleepless nights because you will NOT be able to put this book down.
So when I looked at him in the truck, I saw this man I’d loved for years. This time, instead of looking at him with the eyes of a silly girl, an awkward teen, a romantic young woman, or a grieving daughter…this time, I looked at him with the eyes of a woman in love. A woman who knew her heart, finally, and I knew, in that moment, nothing would ever part us again.
Genevieve has like the worse luck when it comes to death. In a heart breaking accident, Genevieve lost her father, mother, and grandmother on her birthday in a car accident. Luckily she was able to say her final words to her dad but that did not make the tragedy any better. With the help of her best friend and her mom, Genevieve is able to get the final arrangements made. Genvieve is able to keep her loved one close since she has a cemetery next to her house. Even though everyone showed up for the funeral, no one was actually there for Genevieve expect Ahren. Ahren was Genvieve's childhood crush that was a couple years older than her and the guy she has ALWAYS loved. After an incident that did not go well for Genevieve, she thought that she and Ahren would only be friends. Ahren stayed with Genevieve and supported her through this very difficult lost. Things got interesting between them when Genevieve stated that she was better and Ahren took that as a signal to let his intentions known. Let me just say his intentions are known across the world by time he gets done. Genevieve and Ahren try to take a chance at love until death come knocking at Genevieve's door again.After being present at so many funerals, Genevieve noticed that there is no one there for the loved ones just there for the person that past. With this observation, Genevieve decided to she would be that person at funerals that would supports the family. Believe it or not this was a booming business. She had one service call the shake n bake that I thought was comical. Any of her clients that were going to be cremated would want Genevieve to give them a shake before they baked. LMAO. She even played the other women to show the family that the decreased husband's new wife was a hateful witch. The funniest scene in this book was when Genevieve was supposed to jump on top the casket because she was supposed to be so devastated. Unfortunately, on the run to jump, Genevieve noticed that there was a silk cover still over top the casket. Genevieve landed on top, slid off, and landed in the grave! This had be dying laughing at a very inappropriate time. For more interesting funeral situations Genevieve gets herself into, just read.
This book was AWESOME. The romance between Ahren and Genevieve is just beautiful. These two have had too much tragedy in their lives that for them to have each other it's just great. Genevieve's services that she offer are grade A. Who would think to be that person to make sure that the dying wishes are made or to get vengeance. I think everyone will be able to connect. You will now be able to identify what services Genevieve could have offered the family. I wish I could connect with Ahren. Sweet destiny that man was sex walking. Caution: Keep some panty liners with you or just a change of panties because Ahren will make you hot. WHEW!!!!! The Morbid and Sultry Tales of Genevieve Clare gets a insanely sweltering heart. If this book EVER gets formatted to audio, please get someone with a sexy voice to read for Ahren. His part can make or break an audiobook.
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