Welcome to the blog tour for HOLLY FREAKIN’ HUGHES, a stand-alone adult contemporary romantic comedy by Kelsey Kingsley. See below for information on the book, buy links, an exclusive excerpt, and details on her giveaway.

HOLLY FREAKIN' HUGHES by Kelsey Kingsleyv

HOLLY FREAKIN’ HUGHES by Kelsey Kingsley

About the Book
Author: Kelsey Kingsley
Release Date: August 1, 2017
 Adult Contemporary Romantic Comedy
Links: Goodreads | Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

31-year-old HOLLY HUGHES is happy with her life. She’s a moderately successful teen advice columnist living in a tiny studio apartment on the Upper East Side with her boyfriend STEPHEN and their cat CAMILLE. She has grand plans of marrying Stephen and having his babies, until Stephen announces that he is in fact gay and in love with someone else, his boss ANTHONY. This twist of fate is the beginning of a slew of life-changing events in poor Holly’s life. Her boss fires her from the magazine for being too old, leaving her unemployed and unable to keep her apartment.

With nowhere else to go, Holly moves back to Long Island to live with her younger sister LIZ and 3-year-old niece ANNA, and takes over as Anna’s babysitter until she can find the confidence to get herself back on her feet.

As a part of her babysitting routine, Holly takes Anna on bi-weekly trips to the local bookstore, where they attend Story Time. On one occasion, Anna just so happens to run face-first into 36-year-old BRANDON DAVIS, a tall, handsome man who just so happens to be an international best-selling author of a fantasy book series. Holly is unaware of this bit of information, and remains oblivious as their friendship and love for each other grows.

When Brandon faces his personal qualms toward his career and confesses who he is to her, Holly is left to face her own issues with inadequacy.

The story deals with acceptance for one’s position in life, forgiveness, and overcoming the feeling of simply not being good enough.


Excerpt #4
FOR MANY PEOPLE, WHEN ASKED what they consider to be the most romantic holiday, they would promptly respond with, “Valentine’s Day.” I supposed they wouldn’t be incorrect in their feelings, given the day’s amorous history and commercialized sentiment, but no, for me, it has always been Christmas Eve.

There was something in that intimate hush that lulled over the Earth, that momentary sense of peace that brought those Wise Men travelling through the desert all those years ago. The desire and need to be closest to those you care for most, the magical awe of the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, and the sensual kiss of the fireplace against rosy cheeks. All of it combined, painted a picture of cozy warmth, one to fall in love with over and over again.

And to me, that was exactly what love should be.

But of course, that wasn’t the type of love I had found myself in. I was in the torturous kind that left me lying awake when I should have been sleeping; tossing and turning through the stresses of wondering if her feelings for me ran as deep as mine for her. Wondering how I had allowed myself to get into such a predicament. Wondering how the hell it was I would confess my true identity to her. Wondering why the hell I had approached her in the Reade’s parking lot all those months ago.

Brandon the Nice Man.

I had come close the night before, under the mistletoe in Bill’s shop. The guilt of her not knowing had hit me hard in the gut after a kiss that had manifested into something of a tornado of emotion. I had been within millimeters of telling her everything when the world suddenly appeared around us, and the reality of her being unavailable drove a stake through my heart.

The Reade family urged me to run after her in some display of storybook valiance. I thought about it for a few moments, allowing enough time to pass for her to get into her car and drive away; subconsciously deciding that it wasn’t the right time long before she had even reached the shop’s jingling door.

But would there ever be a right time, I thought, rubbing a hand against my jaw.

My thoughts had left me entranced by the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree in Nick’s living room, oblivious to the other guests around me. A far stretch from the one leading the Wise Men to Bethlehem, I wished upon the gaudy tinseled star that I could blink and suddenly be one of the few dozen couples jammed into Nick’s house. With my arm around Holly’s waist, gabbing about the new addition to our house or a new recipe we tried as our contribution to the holiday spread.

I blinked, and while I wasn’t surprised to find myself still alone on that couch, it took a hard bite against my inner lip to keep myself together. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed a hand through my hair, and wished for the lovesick teenager in my mind to give it a fucking rest.


Author Kelsey Kingsley

Author Kelsey Kingsley

About the Author
Kelsey Kingsley grew up in the great state of New York, and still lives there with her family and a cat named Ethel. When she isn’t writing her fingers to the bone, she enjoys a good (or bad) book, reruns of Frasier, ruining the lives of her Sims, and singing and dancing in the kitchen. She somehow survives off a diet of tea, doughnuts, and French fries. However, she hates cheese and listening to people chew. You’ve been warned.




Where to find Kelsey Kingsley
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