January 7, 2015

BOOK BLITZ: Can't Always Get What You Want By, Chelsey Krause

Can’t Always Get What You Want
By: Chelsey Krause
Releasing January 13th, 2015
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Fans of Ruthie Knox, Rachel Gibson, and Molly O’Keefe will love this deeply romantic and uplifting debut novel about losing everything you thought you wanted—and getting exactly what you need.

Sophie Richards has been looking forward to a much-needed girls’ night out: a Rolling Stones tribute-band concert, a few drinks, a distraction from her grueling nursing shifts in acute care. But when her best friend bails, Sophie gets stuck with a blind date.

Although Brett Nicholson may be the hottest carpenter alive, and Sophie may technically be single, she isn’t exactly on the market. Six years ago she found The One. He was everything Sophie dreamed a man could be—and then she lost him. In an instant, her whole life changed, and she forgot all about happily ever after.

But as she gets to know Brett, Sophie starts to wonder about the future for the first time. With a broken heart still clouding her mind, jumping into a new relationship feels impossible. When she’s in his arms, walking away feels even harder. Now Sophie faces an impossible choice: living in the past or choosing love in the here and now.

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I’m crashing at my best friend Samira’s house tonight. We’ve been friends for forever. She works on a pediatric unit, while I work in acute care and casually in ER.
Samira greets me at the door, smiling. She has the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen, dark skin, and expressive brown eyes framed by black, chunky glasses.

“I wasn’t sure you were coming over at all. You’re late for our date with Don Draper,” she says.

“And miss the glamour of 1960s advertising? Never.”
I toss my purse and coat onto a kitchen chair. “Has your mom sent over any more butter chicken?”
I start digging through her fridge before she has a chance to answer. And I find what I’m looking for. 
Cracking open the plastic container, I smell the contents of delicious chicken in a curry and tomato gravy.

“If I had one last meal to eat before I died, this would be it,” I say, putting a hand to my forehead and fluttering my eyelashes. “Do you think your mom will ever share her recipe with me?”

“Are you kidding? She won’t even tell me.”

Two hours later, we’ve finished two episodes of Mad Men, one container of delicious butter chicken, and half a pizza.

“I can’t believe you chose Pizza 73 over your mother’s cooking.”

Samira laughs, and gets up to refill our drinks.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Samira mumbles through a mouthful of pizza, “I can’t make it to the Jagger Bombs concert.”

“What?” I shout back.

The Jagger Bombs are a Rolling Stones tribute band. And I love the Rolling Stones. I’ve been talking about this for months.

“I was really looking forward to this. What happened?”

“Narayan is taking me out tomorrow night. I think he’s going to propose.”

“Really? What makes you think that?”

“When his grandma was visiting last week, he asked me to meet her.”

Wow. I’m not even dating Narayan, and even I know how important his grandma’s opinion is to his family.

“So, what do I do with my extra ticket?” I ask.

“Well, I was thinking . . .”


“That you should go with Brett.”

“Brett who?”

“Oh, come on! You know Brett! He’s Narayan’s business partner.”

“No, I don’t know Brett. I’ve heard about Brett. Big difference.”

“Well, maybe you could ask him to go with you. Narayan and I can vouch for him! He’s single, cute, and apparently he likes the Rolling Stones too,” she says, nudging my ribs.

“Then wouldn’t it be like a date? With someone I’ve never met?”

“Yes! Doesn’t that sound fun?”

I roll my eyes. “So fun. What are my other options?”

“Well, either you go alone, or you ask Joel to go with you.”

I shudder at the thought. Joel is the last guy I dated. He was funny, charming, and good-looking. He took me to expensive restaurants, a lot of movies, and seemed to fit in well with my friends.
I thought he might be long-term boyfriend material until he decided to show me his house. It looked normal enough at first, until he showed me his bedroom.

I have never seen so much pink in one space.

Pink walls. Pink carpets. Pink curtains. And full of Barbie dolls. Every Barbie imaginable, from floor to ceiling. His bed had Barbie sheets, pillows, and comforters. The Barbie mansion was prominently displayed in one corner of the room, with dolls strewn haphazardly around its perimeter.

“Whoopsie!” he said, laughing. “I’ve been a bad boy, and didn’t pick up my toys.” He turned to me and asked seductively, “Want to play?”

I made up an excuse about working early the next day and needing to go. I think I broke several traffic laws on the drive home.

About the Author:
I was born and raised in Canada, and live with my husband and two children. I’ve been a nurse since 2009. An essay I wrote on intercultural nursing has been published in a nursing anthology.
I love thrift shops, repurposing old junk and learning new belly dance moves. I can’t decide if my favorite movie is either “Bridget Jones’ Diary” or “Fight Club.”
I’ve always wanted to be a writer and in the spring of 2013, I finally sat down and wrote my first book. Now that that’s done, I’m working on my second.
I believe that the best way to become a great writer is to read.

A lot.
And then read some more.
I absolutely love books and would live at the library if they’d let me.

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