This is my stop during the book blitz for Louisiana Latte by Rebecca Henry. This book blitz is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours. The book blitz runs from 25 till 31 March. See the tour schedule here.
Deb hadn’t flown in over 20 years. In 1989, at the age of 22, Deb was enrolled at Griffiss Airforce Base to become a commercial pilot. Somewhere between dating her yuppie fiancé and planning their wedding in Chicago, Deb developed claustrophobia, a fear of enclosed spaces. I blame the yuppie. Deb couldn’t get on a plane for love that day, but she could do it twenty years later for money. Money was worth dying for.
You can find Louisiana Latte on Goodreads
About the Author:
Rebecca is the author of The Lady Raven A Dark Cinderella Tale, and her latest novel, Louisiana Latte, a chick lit comedy. Rebecca Henry is also a world traveler, living abroad. She is a serious vegan, gardener, crafter, and practices yoga.
There is a tour wide giveaway for the book blitz of Louisiana Latte. One winner will win a swag bag. US Only.
For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:
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And here’s a taste of Louisiana Latte
I moaned rolling off the bed. I could hear the shower running and figured Deb needed me to get her a bottle of shampoo out of her overnight bag. I walked into the open bathroom. Why doesn’t Deb shut the door, I wondered. “Deb, you need something?” I asked, leaning against the granite counter.
“Oh, Becky, there you are! Yes! I need help.” I blinked, confused. “Okay, like you need some shampoo or something?”
“No, Becky, I need you to come here.” I blinked again. “Like to the shower?”
Deb was submerged in water as it cascaded down her tan body behind a white shower curtain. Her silhouette perfectly outlined. I checked the rings to see if maybe the shower curtain was coming loose and that’s the help she needed.
“Yes, come here, but don’t look at me, I’m naked.” I shook my head, completely bewildered. “Okay…I’m here, right outside the shower now,” I said skittishly.
Deb placed a tan leg on the ledge of the tub. A stiletto was strapped to her foot. “Do you need me to take off your shoe, Deb?” I inched a little closer to the stiletto. “Did you forget you were wearing them?” I asked.
“Oh God no. I never shower in hotels without wearing my shoes, you can catch athlete’s foot!”
“Why didn’t you just borrow my flip-flops?” I asked, astonished, extending a finger at her stiletto. “Because I don’t do flip-flops. Becky, listen, I need you to hold out your arm.” I took a step back, staring at her soaking wet stiletto. “For what?”
“I can’t shave my legs on one foot in these heels, I’ll fall over and break my neck! Please just stick out your arm so I can grab onto it. I’ll be super-fast.” I didn’t respond, staying perfectly still. Maybe if I don’t move, she will forget I’m here, I thought. “Becky! Please! I’m going to injure myself if you don’t help me. It will only take a minute I promise!” Reluctantly, I slowly placed my arm inside the shower curtain, never taking my eyes off her soaking wet stiletto. “Becky, make sure you don’t look, okay?” I cocked my head. “Remember, I’m naked,” Deb said through the curtain.
“Okay” was my only response. There I was having my arm being used by my older sister as a human guard rail while Deb shaved her legs wearing six-inch designer shoes. Who knew a business trip to Louisiana would require so much diva work.