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Sometimes, when you need a change in your life, the tide just happens to pull you in the right direction…
Ellis, Julia, and Dorie. Best friends since Catholic grade school, they now find themselves, in their mid-thirties, at the crossroads of life and love. Ellis, recently fired from a job she gave everything to, is rudderless and now beginning to question the choices she's made over the past decade of her life. Julia—whose caustic wit covers up her wounds—has a man who loves ...
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Sometimes, when you need a change in your life, the tide just happens to pull you in the right direction…
Ellis, Julia, and Dorie. Best friends since Catholic grade school, they now find themselves, in their mid-thirties, at the crossroads of life and love. Ellis, recently fired from a job she gave everything to, is rudderless and now beginning to question the choices she's made over the past decade of her life. Julia—whose caustic wit covers up her wounds—has a man who loves her and is offering her the world, but she can't hide from how deeply insecure she feels about her looks, her brains, her life. And Dorie has just been shockingly betrayed by the man she loved and trusted the most in the world…though this is just the tip of the iceberg of her problems and secrets. A month in North Carolina's Outer Banks is just what they each of them needs.
Ty Bazemore is their landlord, though he's hanging on to the rambling old beach house by a thin thread. After an inauspicious first meeting with Ellis, the two find themselves disturbingly attracted to one another, even as Ty is about to lose everything he's ever cared about.
Maryn Shackleford is a stranger, and a woman on the run. Maryn needs just a few things in life: no questions, a good hiding place, and a new identity. Ellis, Julia, and Dorie can provide what Maryn wants; can they also provide what she needs?
Mary Kay Andrews' novel is the story of five people questioning everything they ever thought they knew about life. Five people on a journey that will uncover their secrets and point them on the path to forgiveness. Five people who each need a sea change, and one month in a summer rental that might just give it to them.
Summer Rental is one of Library Journal's Best Women's Fiction Books of 2011
“For a group of girls on a roadtrip, this is the perfect way to pass the time.” – Smitten with Reading
"Isabel Keating’s treatment of dialogue enhances the characters in this easy summer read...The over-the-top dialect of some of the minor characters combined with some amusing scenes give the listener some laughs that balance the challenging choices the main players face. The dialogue and individual characterizations make this especially good on audio." — AudioFile Magazine
Praise for the print edition of Summer Rental:
“Andrews…is at her warm and funny best…[she] simply excels at creating the kind of characters readers can relate to, and she has a fabulous sense of humor to boot.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“Andrews spins a beach blanket sizzler… This warm weather treat has a lot going for it.”
“[A] tailor-made beach read…another charmer”
“…unraveling secrets makes for fascinating reading. This is a perfect beach book: the tale of a sandy, flea-bittensummer house and one month in August in which honesty triumphs over silence, and love over lies. Ellis falls in love, and Dorie meets a new guy, and Julie makes a big decision, and Maryn breaks free… and the readers ofSummer Rental will stay glued to their sandy beach chairs waiting to see what happens next.”
—Barnes & Noble Review
“…this is prime beach-read material”
—Daily Record (Gannett Newspapers)
As any woman will tell you, behind every successful marriage there is likely to be a secret or two--for example, that not every single pair of shoes she's bought in the last fourteen years was reduced to half price. Still, any divorce lawyer who overhears your conversation will attest that secrets, especially significant ones, are not conducive to long-term marital happiness. They can pull a couple apart even if the motive behind them was well-meaning. These five novels defy that axiom: their plots are shaped by secrets that come close to destroying relationships--and in some cases, lives--and yet honesty wins out. The particular reading pleasure is not discovering those secrets, as it might be in a mystery novel, but the emotional fallout of their revelation. Whether belated candor leads to humiliation, rage, or grief, the suspense that builds before the moment a character discovers that a lover has lied to them is of a special, and especially compelling, kind.
Julia Quinn creates utterly charming characters who, generally speaking, lead enviable lives. The hero and heroine of her new novel, Just Like Heaven, are no exception. Marcus Holroyd, the Earl of Chatteris, is handsome and rich, if a bit shy and lonely. Miss Honoria Smythe-Smith is a lovely young woman, albeit humiliated by her lack of success on the marriage market. Quinn's plot stems from the way even the kindest secrets, secrets kept for someone's own good, can destroy lives. Some years before the novel begins, Marcus made an ill-advised promise to his closest friend, Honoria's brother. The promise is one thing--but when he neglects to tell Honoria, the consequences come near to killing him. That one secret ricochets through the novel, leading to a dramatic revelation...and a broken heart.
Stefanie Sloane's The Devil in Disguise is a debut historical that pits an intelligent but innocent young lady against a rake with secrets of many different kinds. Lord William Randall is a member of a young group of aristocrats, used by the crown in various spying capacities. When Lady Lucinda Grey is threatened, Will is assigned to "court" her, while keeping her safe. Lucinda is no fool, and she mistrusts the motives of the libertine who suddenly appears at her side. But Will soothes her fears by promising that he has "no intent to court her for sport." That's true enough--he's courting her because he was ordered to do so. As in Just Like Heaven, Lucinda's humiliation on finding out the truth--when she demands whether William plans to steal her dignity, having already stolen her heart--makes for an enthralling reading experience.
In both of these novels, secrets grow from an effort to keep the heroine safe. Nalini Singh's inventive fantasy Kiss of Snow, reverses the paradigm: the heroine's secret stems from her wish to protect the hero. Singh's complex world of Psy and Changelings explodes when alpha male of the SnowDancer wolf pack, Hawke, finds himself wildly attracted to a young Psy woman, Sienna. But Hawke lost his mate at an early age, and hesitates to break Sienna's heart by failing to bond with her. Sienna, for her part, has a secret that she's afraid to tell Hawke--because it might impact the entire future of the pack. Sienna is deeply frightened--and until she shares that emotion with Hawke, they cannot form the wild devotion that will allow them to survive the ferocity of Sienna's unleashed power. This is Nalini Singh's breakout into hardcover, and it is worth every penny of its new format.
The Soldier by Grace Burrowes deals with an entirely different sort of secret. Devlin St. Just, the Earl of Rosecraft, arrives at his estate to find a thin, dirty nine-year-old girl standing in a dry fountain, only to be told that "in a manner of speaking, the child is, well...Yours." Devlin has been given the title and estate by the Crown, and the illegitimate daughter of the former earl comes right along with the neglected estate. Devlin is an enchanting, complicated and wonderful character who falls in love with both the girl and with his new neighbor, Emmaline Farnum. The Soldier brings together PTSD, abandonment, illegitimacy and love in an enormously satisfying story. Emmie has the power to mend what war has broken in Devlin: "His grip was that of a drowning man--a dying man--and she would not let him go." But their love affair is undermined by a secret she feels compelled to keep from him. Here again it is the deceived person who sacrifices his self-respect, by demanding not just honesty, but love. As Devlin puts it, "his dignity wasn't too high a price to pay if it meant Emmie understood what his feelings were."
If the other novels in this column have circled around a secret, Mary Kay Andrews' Summer Rental offers a whole circus of them. Friends Ellis, Julia, and Dorie rent a run-down house in North Carolina's Outer Banks. But even though they're best friends, it turns out that they're keeping secrets...from each other and from their spouses. Mr. and Mrs. Perfect are getting a divorce; there are secrets to do with babies and jobs...In fact, everyone they meet--from the gorgeous Ty Bazemore next door, to the runaway Maryn who joins them in the house--is hiding something: "I have a confession to make" is the most often-repeated sentence in the novel. Just like the other novels in this column, unraveling secrets makes for fascinating reading. This is a perfect beach book: the tale of a sandy, flea-bitten summer house and one month in August in which honesty triumphs over silence, and love over lies. Ellis falls in love, and Dorie meets a new guy, and Julie makes a big decision, and Maryn breaks free...and the readers of Summer Rental will stay glued to their sandy beach chairs waiting to see what happens next.
It was not an auspicious beginning for a vacation, let alone for a new life. The rain chased her all the way down the East Coast, slashing at the windshield, pounding her car from every angle. Between the backwash from a continuous stream of eighteen-wheelers blowing past her at eighty miles an hour (in contrast to her own sedate fifty-five mph) and violent gusts of wind from the storm, it was all she could do to stay on the roadway.
It was her own fault, Ellis decided. She should have stuck to her original plan. She should have gotten up at a sensible hour, at least waiting until daylight to start the drive from Philadelphia to North Carolina. Instead, on some insane impulse, she’d simply locked up the town house and driven off shortly after midnight.
It was a most un-Ellis-like decision. But then, her old life, back there in Philly, was gone. And somewhere, on that long drive south, she had subconsciously decided that the seeds of a new life must be waiting, at the beach. In August.
Ellis took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders, first forward, and then backwards, trying to work out the kinks from six hours of driving. She reached for the commuter mug of coffee in the Accord’s cup holder and took a long sip, hoping it would clear the fatigue fog.
An hour later, she saw the sign: Nags Head, 132 miles. She smiled. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle. She should arrive at the house, which was called Ebbtide, by around seven.
Her smile faded. What had she been thinking? Check-in was at 2 P.M., according to the renter’s agreement she’d signed.
She composed a mental e-mail to herself: To: EllisSullivan@hotmail.com. From: EllisSullivan@hotmail.com. Subject: Failure to plan = plan to fail.
But the memo would have to wait. The highway rose and she found herself on a long, gently arching bridge. One more damned bridge. Surely it was the last. The Chesapeake Bay Bridge had nearly done her in. She felt her jaw clench tightly. Her fingertips clamped the steering wheel, and her heart raced. A bead of sweat trickled down her back.
Nags Head was on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. She’d studied her guidebooks, maps, and AAA Triptik for weeks now. She knew the island’s geography, even its topography, intimately. But she’d refused to allow herself to focus on the bridge issue. Because the fact was, as the girls knew all too well, bridges—even wimpy little bridges like the Sam Varnedoe that separated Whitemarsh and Wilmington islands back home in Savannah—scared the living bejeezus out of Ellis Sullivan.
She kept her eyes straight ahead, not daring to look right or left at the water flowing under the bridge. When she’d finally crossed the bridge, her hands were clammy, her T-shirt sweat-soaked.
Now she was on the Outer Banks proper. Signs for the little towns flashed by: Corolla, Duck, Southern Shores, Kitty Hawk, Avalon Beach. The sun rose, and she was somehow shocked at how densely developed the beachfront was here. She’d expected to see clumps of sea oats silhouetted against sparkling blue water; sailboats bobbing at anchor; great, gray shingled houses staring moodily out to sea; the occasional lighthouse. The reality was that, so far, what she’d seen of the storied Outer Banks could just as well have been the Jersey shore, Myrtle Beach, Fort Lauderdale, or any other East Coast tourist resort—meaning miles and miles of hotels and motels, restaurants, and strip shopping centers lining both sides of the road, and a shoreline packed with cheek-to-jowl condo complexes and huge, pastel-painted beach houses.
She followed Route 12 south, and when the GPS computerized voice instructed her to turn left and then right, she knew she was getting close. Virginia Dare Trail was the beach road. Here, at least, there was a little bit of elbow room between the houses. Once or twice she actually caught a glimpse of sand dunes and sea oat plumes. Finally, the well-modulated woman’s voice announced cheerily, “Arrive at destination, on left.”
Ellis slowed the car and stared. A long crushed-shell drive led through a weedy patch of sand. There was a mailbox at the curb, with a sun-bleached cedar sign in the cutout shape of a whale. EBBTIDE was painted on the sign in faded white letters. The driveway ended at what looked like a two-story garage. The wood-shingled structure was a weathered grayish-brownish affair. Through a set of open wooden garage doors, she spotted a beat-up tan Bronco with a red surfboard strapped to the rooftop rack.
To the side of the garage, a rambling three-story wood-frame house arose from a set of wooden stairs. Stretched across the front of the house was a long, open porch. A row of rocking chairs marched across the porch, and a gaudy striped beach towel was draped carelessly across a railing. From the sandy side yard, a wooden walkway led up and over a towering sand dune.
On an impulse, she pulled the car into the next driveway. Here, there was no house at all, only the charred remains of a concrete-block foundation, along with some blackened timbers. A black-and-orange NO TRESPASSING sign was posted on a block wall. Ellis put the Accord in park and got out of the car, her cramped legs and back screaming in protest. The air was already hot and muggy. She did a couple of deep knee bends, scanning the yard next door for any signs of life. Had the earlier renters already checked out? Or did the Bronco in the garage belong to somebody who was still enjoying a last hour or two on the beach before it was time to head home?
She strolled over to the mailbox and peered up at the house. Their house, at least for the month of August. Ellis intended to make every hour of this month count.
“Ebbtide,” she said aloud, satisfied that the exterior of the house, at least, seemed to match the photo she’d spotted in the Vacation Rentals by Owner listing. Of course, that photo had also shown an inviting green lawn dotted with billowing blue hydrangeas and a hot-pink bicycle built for two with a charming wicker basket leaning up against a rose-covered picket fence. None of these were in evidence now. In fact, the only thing in evidence in what passed for a yard, besides a bumper crop of weeds, was a busted-up Styrofoam cooler full of empty malt liquor cans and a sodden heap of yellowing newspapers, still in their plastic wrappers.
She glanced down at her watch. She had half a day to kill until check-in. Being Ellis, she’d already planned to arrive hours before the others. The extra time would give her a chance to go to the grocery store, prepare their first night’s dinner, get the house situated. Linens were not included in the house rental, so she’d brought enough sheets and towels for everybody, just in case. And yes, she would have first crack at choosing her bedroom, but since she had done all the legwork finding the house and planning this trip, would anybody really mind?
Well, maybe Willa would mind. She was only older than the others by twenty months, but really, she could be so pushy and bossy. It would be just like Willa to accuse Ellis of hogging the best bedroom. Which she had no intention of doing. She just didn’t want a bedroom facing the street and a lot of noise. She was a light sleeper—and she had a lot of thinking to do. And anyway, as the only single woman in the group, she was used to her own space. Too used to it, she thought wryly.
She was dying to see Ebbtide up close. She glanced up and down the road. There was no sign of traffic. Just another sleepy summer morning at the beach. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to walk up the driveway of the burnt-out house to see what she could see. Technically, she knew, it was trespassing. But it wasn’t like she was looting the place. What was left to loot?
Quickly, before she lost her nerve, Ellis trotted up the crushed oyster-shell drive. Another wooden boardwalk and a set of stairs leading up and over the sand dune, just like the one at Ebbtide, seemed to have survived the fire that had taken this house. She trod the steps quickly, not wanting to be seen from the road.
There was a shed-roofed deck at the top of the dunes. At one time it would have been an amazing place to sit and sip a cocktail and enjoy the ocean breezes. But not now. Some of the decking had rotted out, and the railings missed pickets in several places. A couple of broken plastic lawn chairs lay sprawled on their side, but it was the view that captured Ellis’s attention. From here she could see the Nags Head she’d imagined. The dunes, covered with sea oats, beach plums, and shrubs whose names she didn’t know, sloped down to meet a wide, white beach. The tide was out, and the Atlantic Ocean sparkled gray-blue below. Here and there, people walked along the shore, stooping to pick up shells.
“Perfect!” Ellis exclaimed. Just then, she heard the slap of a wooden screen door. Turning, she saw movement from the second-floor apartment over the garage at Ebbtide. That apartment had a small wooden deck wrapping around the sides and back of it. As she watched, a man walked out onto the deck. She could see him clearly—good Lord—he was in his underwear.
The man was barefoot, deeply tanned, with unkempt sun-bleached brownish hair. A pair of baggy white boxer briefs hung low on his slim hips. He turned, faced the water, yawned and stretched. And then, while Ellis watched, slack-jawed with amazement and disgust, he quite casually proceeded to pee off the edge of the deck.
He took his own good time about it too. Ellis was rooted to the spot where she stood, her face crimson with embarrassment. When he was finally finished, he stretched and turned. And that’s when he spotted her, a lone figure in hot pink capris and a white T-shirt, her long dark hair blowing in the breeze coming off the beach.
The man gave her a nonchalant smile. His teeth were white and even, and from here she could see the golden stubble of a days-old beard. He waved casually. “Hey,” he called. “How ya doin’?”
Ellis managed a strangled “Hey.” And then she fled down the stairs as fast as her flip-flop-shod feet would take her.
Copyright © 2011 by Whodunnit, Inc
Posted May 7, 2011
got an advanced copy and this is on par for Ms. Andrews. Delightful read, and to those rating this book on the price should be ashamed of yourselves. This book is 12.99 and before e-books comae along you would have to wait almost a year to get a cheaper softback or pay almost 20$ for a hardback. You guys stop being whiners and stop hurting the author's book rating by your childishness.
28 out of 42 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 29, 2011
The three BFFs for over two decades rent a summer house in Nags Head on the North Carolina Outer Banks. Now in their thirties each has major decisions to make that they need their two buddies to be there for them. Ellis Sullivan drives down from Philadelphia where she just lost her job at BancAtlantic that meant her life to her. Maryn Shackleford flees her abusive spouse Don in New Jersey before he finally buries her; deciding to hide in Nag's Head where her parents once took her seemingly a lifetime ago. Ty Bazemore owns the Ebbtide beach house he has rented to the thirty-something trio under his alter ego Mr. Culpepper; his first encounter with Ellis is a disaster at a time he is distracted about losing the house. The other BFFs Julia and Dorie arrive; Julia the model was living with Booker the photographer, but he took a DC job and wants more from their relationship. Dorie hides in shock that her beloved husband Stephen betrayed her. All five converge in a summer month of change at Ebbtide.
This is an entertaining character study of three females each at a major fork in their respective lives. Although Maryn brings suspense to the mix as an abused wife on the run from her husband, she changes the relational dynamics of the other trio too much. Filled with pathos, humor and romance, fans will enjoy the three musketeers seeking their groove in the Outer Banks.
18 out of 23 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 8, 2011
I adore Mary Kay Andrew's books! I also believe the prices are fair. Besides if you can afford a nook, then you should have no qualms over a price! I'm frugal myself but do think most of the prices I have seen are more than fair.
16 out of 26 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted March 6, 2012
Posted April 25, 2013
Harriet klausner and her cliff note book report ruins another book. This poster needs to learn how to write a review without revealing the entire book. Please bn, do something to this egotistical poster.
8 out of 12 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted September 14, 2011
I agree. After spending over $200. for an E-reader and be a steady reader, I think we should get a break on the price of a book. I can get the same book at Wal-Mart for the same or at times a cheaper price.
8 out of 26 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 25, 2011
I used to love Mary Kay Andrews books, but "Summer Rental" is by far one of the most boring books I have ever read. On top of the predictable story lines are the editor's mistakes with typos ("think" instead of "thing", etc.) and story line errors (Maryn/Madison finds the money in the laptop bag is not in the standard bank wraps and she hides the money in the bottom of her duffel bag yet the money somehow appears in the back of the armoire and is in the standard bank wraps?) At this point, I'm moving on to other authors.
8 out of 10 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 7, 2011
I found the story to be very boring. I stuck it out to page 122 and then just decided to throw in the towel and pick up something else that I might actually enjoy. I am disappointed that I paid this price for a nook book and didn't even enjoy it. Perhaps my review can save someone else the time and money.
7 out of 11 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 20, 2011
As a local from the Outer Banks, NC. I looked forward to reading this book. A disappointment, however the references to local restaurants were right on. Needed more zing.
6 out of 6 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 28, 2011
Much expensive books. 9.90 or less for most books. Just recieved nook color from mom. May return for exactly the broken promise of low price books
5 out of 24 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 19, 2011
I'm a regular Andrews reader and have been looking forward to this book, but by page 114 I was still waiting for some momentum and the characters were all still plodding, except for the little tension provided by runaway Maryn. I miss the smiles I got from previous Andrews stories and the cute, quirky characters. I've not totally given up on this yet and checked reader reviews to see if I could find motivation. On the other hand, I've got other new books luring me away every time I open the Nook.
5 out of 5 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 4, 2011
Not one of Mary Kay Andrew's best books. I liked the storyline but why are all the women so gorgeous? Why did the main charachter get so mad at her landlord/boyfriend about not telling the truth about being the real landlord? And my big question: How can a woman who is escaping an abusive/crooked husband and leave her beloved dog behind? Some serious issues like handling guns taken too lightly.
4 out of 6 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 22, 2011
Posted June 20, 2011
I was looking forward to a fun beach read but this was one dimensional and boring. The ending was unrealistic and simple.
4 out of 5 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 11, 2011
4 out of 9 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 17, 2011
This book was a great read - typical of MK Andrews books. I couldn't put the nook down. There is still that southern twang that makes her books so irresistable. Though not set in Savannah, it has enough references to remind you that you're still in the South. I loved it.
3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted November 22, 2013
Posted October 17, 2013
This was my first Mary Kay Andrews book. I thought it was a very cute book, the characters were well written, the book had a good flow and kept moving. It was a fast read for me and I will likely buy another book by Andrews in the future.
2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 29, 2011
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