Today is a virtual book blast stop for chick lit author Amy Holman Edelman and her novel Manless in Montclair.
As an added treat, Amy is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to a randomly chosen commentor during the tour. You can enter to win by leaving an e-mail address with a comment on this post. And if you’d like more chances to win, you can visit other tour stops and leave more comments.
children and Irish Jack Russell, Roxy. She is the also author of The
Little Black Dress (’97).
knows this all too well; at five feet nothing with a tendency to tip over in
heels, she’s struggled for twenty-five years to make clothes, careers, and
boyfriends fit. Enter Michael. Divorced father, recovering alcoholic, and
fifteen years her senior–he was the last guy she thought would make the cut.
But when he proposed over a pastrami sandwich in a NYC deli on the anniversary
of their first date, Isabel knew, improbably, that he was the one.
Fifteen mostly happy years and two kids later, Isabel walks into her living
room to discover her husband dead on the floor, leaving her a widow at
forty-one. At Michael’s funeral, a guest solemnly informs her that the official
mourning period for a Jewish widow is thirty days. At the moment, Isabel can’t
imagine a time when she will stop grieving. Not helping the process is this: as
a single mom living in the very married suburbs, for the first time in fifteen
years Isabel once again just doesn’t fit in.
It takes her four-year-old daughter’s request for a new daddy to set Isabel on
a journey through online dating, shifty matchmakers, and painfully orchestrated
single dinners. But after endless dates, a torrid affair with an unemployed,
passive-aggressive neighbor, and a story on page three of the New York Daily
News, Isabel begins to realize that another man may not be the answer and,
surprisingly, that’s when things begin to change for the better…
a nearby restaurant. She had stopped for an early dinner after meeting a client
in New York and was taking advantage of the few minutes we had
alone while the kids were in the bathroom.
do you ask?”
leaning in confidentially, “I heard somewhere that dating is really just a
numbers game. The twenty-eighth guy you meet,” she said, “will be the one.”
the first twenty-seven?”
date ’em only once? Or do they only count if they’re a multiple date?”
thoughtfully, tapping her manicured fingernails on the tablecloth. “I’m not
sleep with the twenty-seven prior to number twenty-eight? Or just maybe dinner?”