Bøger af Carol Frey Yingling

Love can be complicated in this contemporary romance novel. Martha, a young woman just starting out on her own, finds out that love - and life - has twists and turns that can lead to unexpected adventures. Martha's mother learns the same lesson, and finds the inner strength to protect her family from a danger no one suspected.

The world is, indeed, a dangerous place. Hearts get broken. Entire governments tumble. The Atom Bomb lurks. The lintcatcher in the dryer catches on fire. A toilet explodes.Carol Frey knows this world from down in the trenches, from the realest places there are: the kitchen floor with a filthy rag in her hand, the dinner table across from a glaring husband, the car full of screaming kids. It's perilous territory, this "domestic underground," and those trailblazers who've come before "Mama Bear" (Frey's nom-de-plume and alter ego) are no lot of shrinking violets-Erma Bombeck (whose The Grass is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank is the genre's bible), "Domestic Goddess" Roseanne Barr, Anne Taintor and her brilliant housewives-from-hell postcards, Phyllis Diller...the list goes on. Badass women all, they've been there, and lived to tell the dirty tale-laughing to keep from crying.There's truth in every page here--and wit, and intelligence, and a big dose of common sense. Frey's "Mama Bear" has the kind of cherished perspective-truth-telling yet subtly sophisticated-that makes the world seem right, and places the really important things-family, friends, shoes, and cats-on the pedestals they deserve.Christine Ohlman, The Beehive QueenSinger/Songwriter

No one ever suspects me. I look like your grandmother, but maybe with more modern clothes. And maybe not. I'm not a fashionable dresser. Shopping is a chore, not a hobby, so I like clothes that last a long time and never look too dated. As a consequence, they never look very stylish, either. My hair is gradually fading from a plain medium brunette to the grayed brown of a field mouse. I'm at the age where mirrors startle me with their cruel reality - in my mind, my legs still stretch long and lean-muscled from a firm abdomen and a high, tight derriere. But I'm now the age that inspired manufacturers to add little strips of elastic, well-hidden but unmistakably there, to the waistbands of their conservatively-cut khaki slacks. Nevertheless, my skills are honed by life experience and, because I'm unexpected, I'm more dangerous than ever. When I want to be, anyway. Sometimes I bake cookies for a bunch of neighborhood kids. Then I'm grandmotherly, and only dangerous to their dental health and dinner appetites. But sometimes I find out things that others want to keep secret. My name is Hetta Moon. I think I'm still officially an administrative assistant.