Can You Spot My Boob?

It has been a momentous week in the Malone household. My husband is reading my book, His Brand Of Beautiful.

Now to give you some context, these would be my husband’s favourite authors: John Sandford, Michael Robotham and Leah Giarratano – all crime/thrillers. The last book he read was: Dogs Of Winter by Kem Nunn which is about a journo who goes in search of a mystery big wave surfing spot and encounters no end of trouble on the way. I’ve read this book too and it is BLEAK. (Great book, but seriously. HEAs are very few and far between in this one.)

My Crit Partner was surprised to hear that hubby hadn’t read HBOB. My problem was, there was no way I was going to let my husband read it until I had some validation that it was actually any good. (Which, I now have, thanks to Kate Cuthbert at Escape Publishing, and some lovely reviews).

So when hubby announced he wanted my Kindle so he could read my book, I handed it over. Which means I now get the fun of sharing some of his comments along the way (comment in bold):

I like how you describe things. (And he picked out this passage below).

Dark fish-hooks and dagger points curled in his fringe and at his temple, a fat raindrop quivered like it didn’t dare slide.

You know? I’m not enjoying this too badly at all. (Someone tell me whether that’s a double negative?)

Then a conversation I never thought I would hear: Hubby on the phone to his mother talking about my book. (You’ll forgive me that it’s a one-sided conversation – but it will show you that I paid attention in Point Of View school!)

“I’m reading Lily’s book at the moment.”

“No. It’s good. I’m enjoying it. But I haven’t got to any steamy sex scenes yet.”

Me: *Blush*

But then this one came from out of the blue:

“I found a mistake in your book.”

“What? Where?”

Now I could tell you the boob he found, but that would ruin my fun. I have decided to run a competition for anyone who has already read HBOB to spot the mistake. I will give you some clues.

• I think only a bloke would find it (or a woman who is very mechanically minded)
• It involves an item of household machinery
• It involves my description of a sound that machinery makes
• It isn’t to do with a wrench or a spanner or a red shirt (sorry Juanita Kees)

Hubby’s reading of HBOB was interrupted by the weekend and its bevy of football games, but I have just been out for my Sunday afternoon walk and on my return, he is once again ensconced with my Kindle… and he’s just given me another comment:

“I think your main character, Christina, swears too much.”

This is the section he read:

Then she heard it. Pow. Pow. Pow.

All the air rushed from her lungs and she felt tears overflow, slide down her cheeks.

My God, Tate! It sounds like a hammer. Like our kid’s a fucking carpenter.

“I think Christina is too prim and proper to swear so much.”

“She’s not prim and proper!” I say defensively.

“Well, she’s the CEO of a winery… she’s a city girl,” he says defensively. “I don’t think she’d say that in a doctor’s surgery.

I get the last word: “She doesn’t say it, she thinks it!”

And hubby shuts up.

So having had my fun for the afternoon at my wonderful husband’s expense… I’m signing off.

Anyone who would like to play ‘spot my boob’… (ahem), if you can leave me a comment and if someone gets it right (or gets close)… I will gift any person you’d like to nominate their own e-copy of His Brand Of Beautiful.