I received this book for free from in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
Published by Vesper Press on June 13th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, Fiction, General, Romance
Purchase Links: Amazon | iBooks | Kobo | Barnes & Noble
ADD TO GOODREADS:
Two lonely hearts.
Just once, she'd like to be someone's first choice.
She's strong-willed and spunky, but she's left picking up the pieces from her ex's lies and manipulations and daydreaming about taking a scalpel to his scrotum.
Flying under the radar is what he does best.
He's laid-back and loyal, but he wants the most off-limits woman in his world, and nothing will ever make that a reality.
An arrangement of mutual benefit.
Two months, four dates.
Five, if things go well.
Five at the most.
But possibly six.
Definitely no more than six dates.
Only the appearance of a romantic relationship is required, and they expect nothing more from their time together. There will be none of those benefits involved.
One wild weekend.
After waking up in bed together—very naked and even more hungover—the terms and conditions of their arrangement no longer apply. Now they're faced with something riskier than exposing their fake relationship: letting go of the past and zipping up the future.
Some things have to fall apart before they can be put back together.
Also by this author: Necessary Restorations, Restored
In Preservation, author Kate Canterbary is at the top of her game. I have been a huge fan of Kate Canterbary’s work since I read her first Walsh Family novel, Underneath it All. With each successive Walsh release, her stories become more evocative and her characters more nuanced, yet, Ms. Canterbary maintains her signature wit and heat. And Preservation brings the heat … so much heat.
This book is an absolute gem. I can’t recommend it highly enough. There are certain plot points that carry over from earlier Walsh family novels, but Kate Canterbary crafts Preservation in such a way as it stands on its own beautifully. Our hero, Riley Walsh, is the youngest male of the six Walsh children, though his siblings all treat him as if he’s the youngest of them all. Riley possesses an open, giving personality, and a propensity for wrecking havoc wherever he goes — open flies, broken glass, and stained clothes are constant. What most of his loud and loving family fail to see is the wise, vulnerable man lurking beneath the easy smile and silly nicknames.
Riley is dealing with some complicated issues that I will not discuss, because, *SPOLIERS*. Nor will I expose the identity of his ladylove. Sorry, I will not be one of those reviewers.
As a longtime Riley Walsh fan, I found myself very protective of Riley’s heart. I was concerned the woman who attempted to lay claim to it might not be worthy, or the romance might be forced. Silly me — this a Kate Canterbary novel. From the beginning, Riley and —for the sake of ease let’s use one of Riley’s nicknames— Shortstop, have great chemistry with witty banter, innuendo, and simmering attraction. Neither intends to take things to a more physical, and thus more complicated, level. Yeah. We all knew that wasn’t going to last. Check out author Kate Canterbary’s Pinterest board for Preservation and you’ll see why resistance was futile.
In Shortstop, Riley finds his person, someone who sees all of him —and accepts him— dirty mind, spills and all. Riley chips away at the walls surrounding Shortstop’s heart, revealing the vulnerable woman behind her tough-as-tails façade. Both are scared but ultimately must decide if the laughter and love they find together are worth preserving.
At 10 chapters in, I swore Preservation was perfection, 20 more chapters only reinforced my opinion. This book is funny, sexy, touching, honest, and perfect. Just like Riley himself, Preservation by Kate Canterbary is an absolute pleasure.
PRESERVATION excerpt – © 2017, Kate Canterbary
Riley pointed at the plate between us. “These are my favorite pretzel bites in the city. Try some.”
I shot him a sharp look. “Are you just trying to get me in a good mood?” I asked. “I did eat lunch today.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, dipping two pretzels in the accompanying sauce. “What did you have? Based on you yelling at me about noticing your shoes, I’d say it was an iced venti skinny latte.”
“Almonds,” I replied. And an iced venti skinny latte but I wasn’t copping to that just yet.
Riley tried to fight a laugh, and failed. “Almonds?” he repeated.
“Chocolate covered almonds, yes.” I folded my arms across my chest. “It was an appropriate amount of calories, fat, protein, and carbs.”
I glared at the pilsner and pretzels. I hated being told what to do. Just fucking hated it. But then my stomach growled—goddamn it—and Riley shot me a pointed glance.
“People think that a rumbling stomach is the sign of hunger,” I said, reaching for his glass. I drained the beer and then selected a pretzel for dipping. “It is not.”
Riley gazed at me, his expression flat. It gave me a moment to study him while choosing another pretzel. He was wearing jeans, a tailored shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and a pinstriped vest, and his hair was a wreck. It looked like he’d been tugging the dark strands in every conceivable direction. His eyes were rimmed with a bit of red and his lids heavy, as if he’d been rubbing them or hadn’t gotten much sleep. Perhaps both. There was a small notebook beside his phone, and a mechanical pencil tucked into the spiral binding.
And he was still more attractive than I knew how to handle. Even tired and irritable, and ordering me to eat his pretzels and drink his beer, he was hot as fuck. I bit into another pretzel and offered him a small smile.
“Would you say the chip on your shoulder is massive or epic?” he asked. There was no hint of amusement in his tone, and he was staring at me with more ice than I’d believed he could muster. It didn’t feel like we were sniping at each other anymore. “It might be semantics to you but I’m trying to get a feel for what I’m dealing with here.”
But then one of his big hands found my leg under the table. He squeezed and rubbed his thumb along the hollow of my knee, and I started to believe I’d been all wrong about this man. There was the player and there was the overgrown kid, but there was so much more than that.