Book spotlight- The Distance Between Us by Georgie Capron
Book Spotlight
For fans of Marian Keyes, Hurrah for Gin and Allison Pearson. A tear-jerking but
uplifting modern love story about motherhood and marriage.
Happy children, happy husband, happily ever after?
Tasha knows that she should count her blessings: married for eleven years, mother to three healthy children, she should be content with her lot. However, feelings of
frustration have settled over her like a dark cloud. Despite living under the same roof
and sharing the same bed, Tasha has never felt so distant from her husband, Charlie.
She feels worn down by the mental load of motherhood, drowning in the never-ending
chores that keep the family and household afloat. Most of all she worries that her once
happy marriage is slipping away from her.
Tasha longs for something to change, but when change comes calling will it really be the answer she was hoping for? And is it possible to fall in love with the same person twice?
A modern day love story about family, marriage and risking it all to have it all.
Buy now links:
Amazon: mybook.to/TDBUCapron
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2JUK6G4
iBooks: https://apple.co/2JJ2j65
Google play: http://bit.ly/2LNjMLw
On Monday morning Tasha found herself alone in the house once again, ploughing through a mountain of ironing that she had let build up for far too long. She lost herself in the monotony of the task, listening to Radio 4 as she worked. Her mind wondered back to the weekend. It had flown by in record timing, as they always did. Luckily the May sun had come out in force for their visit to Richmond Park. The children had run off exploring as they walked the winding paths that led through the Isabella Plantation, the deep reds and shocking pinks of the azaleas resplendent against the dark green foliage. They had stopped to admire their reflections in the Still Pond, posing for a photograph taken by a kindly stranger – the image of happiness as they smiled against the picturesque backdrop, the children beaming as they struck comedic poses for the camera. They had even cranked open the barbecue for the first time that year, Max doing his best to help as he turned the sausages. Tasha loved seeing Charlie and Max next to each other; they were so similar in so many ways. Max absolutely hero-worshipped his father – at the weekends he was rarely far from his side.
Tasha, on the other hand, had spent most of the weekend feeling annoyed with Charlie. She didn’t even really know why any more. She was repressing an anger that seemed irrational. At times she wasn’t sure what the anger was even about. Frustration, yes, but at what? She found herself reminiscing obsessively about her former life as a GP, before Flora, before motherhood. Despite her frustration at the endless paperwork, the bureaucracy, the short appointment times and the exhausting hours, she missed the reward, the satisfaction of an accurate diagnosis, the challenge and the unlimited variety.
Tasha continuously ruminated over her decision not to return to work after having had Flora. She had failed to anticipate just what a mammoth task it would be to retrain, to catch up on the medical advances that had been made in her absence. If she had returned to work part-time between each child she would not have allowed such an enormous chasm to open up in her knowledge; she could have kept a foot in the door. At the time she had thought that being a mum would be all she would ever want.
She’d never anticipated the desire to have something more, something for herself, her own salary even. She’d never expected to feel so lonely, so cut off and so bored. She was embarrassed to admit it even to herself. Surely many women would be envious of her position? Charlie was just about able to support them; she had the privilege and joy of being there for her children no matter what, to watch assemblies and attend sports days and hear about the minutiae of their daily lives. She felt awful for feeling dissatisfied with her lot. She should be counting her blessings, not indulging herself with regrets and wishful thinking.
Later that afternoon Tasha traipsed up to her bedroom to have a good clear-out. It was a job she had been meaning to get around to for months. Rummaging around for a top to wear last Thursday had been a near impossible task: her drawers were overflowing with clothes. She couldn’t remember the last time she had even worn half of them. Many of them didn’t even fit her now that she’d put on a few extra pounds. She decided to make a pile for charity and a pile to keep and was soon immersed in the process of sorting.
Realising it was far too warm in the room, she threw open the windows and looked out. Their neighbour, Javier, who lived in the house opposite, was downstairs playing the saxophone. He did this most days when he wasn’t at work. Sometimes Tasha could hear the music, soulful jazz or blues, as it lifted on the breeze from an open window. She paused and listened, watching him for a minute or two. Suddenly he turned his head and looked directly up at her, as if he could sense her watching him. She blushed and quickly looked away, returning to her chest of drawers. She felt embarrassed, worried he would think she was a desperate housewife, stalking him from across the street.
Tasha turned her attention back to the task in hand. As she pulled open the top drawer it occurred to her just how rarely she ever wore the sets of matching lingerie that lay abandoned at the back. In fact, she couldn’t recall the last time she had put one on. It seemed like a lifetime ago when Charlie used to surprise her with gifts of underwear, beautifully wrapped in layers of tissue paper, delicate lace and silk. She remembered him ripping the buttons off her shirt during one particularly passionate encounter in his enthusiasm to take off her clothes. She longed to experience that level of desire again. She still enjoyed making love to Charlie; it was comforting and familiar, easy even. They knew what worked and how to please each other, but the voracious appetite for one another that they had experienced at the start of their relationship had disappeared.
Georgie lives in South West London with her husband and daughter. Alongside her
writing she works as a primary school teacher and she particularly enjoys teaching English.
She studied Italian and History of Art at the University of Edinburgh and did a PGCE in primary education at the University of London.
Follow Georgie
Website: https://georgiecapron.com/
Twitter: @GeorgieCapron
Facebook: @GeorgieCapron
Follow Aria
Website: www.ariafiction.com
Twitter: @aria_fiction
Facebook: @ariafiction
Instagram: @ariafiction
The Distance Between Us
by Georgie Capron
On my blog today I have the pleasure of sharing with you......
The Distance Between Us
I would like to thank Victoria from Aria Books and Georgie Capron for inviting me on the blog tour.
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Book Information
uplifting modern love story about motherhood and marriage.
Happy children, happy husband, happily ever after?
Tasha knows that she should count her blessings: married for eleven years, mother to three healthy children, she should be content with her lot. However, feelings of
frustration have settled over her like a dark cloud. Despite living under the same roof
and sharing the same bed, Tasha has never felt so distant from her husband, Charlie.
She feels worn down by the mental load of motherhood, drowning in the never-ending
chores that keep the family and household afloat. Most of all she worries that her once
happy marriage is slipping away from her.
Tasha longs for something to change, but when change comes calling will it really be the answer she was hoping for? And is it possible to fall in love with the same person twice?
A modern day love story about family, marriage and risking it all to have it all.
Buy now links:
Amazon: mybook.to/TDBUCapron
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2JUK6G4
iBooks: https://apple.co/2JJ2j65
Google play: http://bit.ly/2LNjMLw
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Excerpt
Chapter Three
Tasha, on the other hand, had spent most of the weekend feeling annoyed with Charlie. She didn’t even really know why any more. She was repressing an anger that seemed irrational. At times she wasn’t sure what the anger was even about. Frustration, yes, but at what? She found herself reminiscing obsessively about her former life as a GP, before Flora, before motherhood. Despite her frustration at the endless paperwork, the bureaucracy, the short appointment times and the exhausting hours, she missed the reward, the satisfaction of an accurate diagnosis, the challenge and the unlimited variety.
Tasha continuously ruminated over her decision not to return to work after having had Flora. She had failed to anticipate just what a mammoth task it would be to retrain, to catch up on the medical advances that had been made in her absence. If she had returned to work part-time between each child she would not have allowed such an enormous chasm to open up in her knowledge; she could have kept a foot in the door. At the time she had thought that being a mum would be all she would ever want.
She’d never anticipated the desire to have something more, something for herself, her own salary even. She’d never expected to feel so lonely, so cut off and so bored. She was embarrassed to admit it even to herself. Surely many women would be envious of her position? Charlie was just about able to support them; she had the privilege and joy of being there for her children no matter what, to watch assemblies and attend sports days and hear about the minutiae of their daily lives. She felt awful for feeling dissatisfied with her lot. She should be counting her blessings, not indulging herself with regrets and wishful thinking.
Later that afternoon Tasha traipsed up to her bedroom to have a good clear-out. It was a job she had been meaning to get around to for months. Rummaging around for a top to wear last Thursday had been a near impossible task: her drawers were overflowing with clothes. She couldn’t remember the last time she had even worn half of them. Many of them didn’t even fit her now that she’d put on a few extra pounds. She decided to make a pile for charity and a pile to keep and was soon immersed in the process of sorting.
Realising it was far too warm in the room, she threw open the windows and looked out. Their neighbour, Javier, who lived in the house opposite, was downstairs playing the saxophone. He did this most days when he wasn’t at work. Sometimes Tasha could hear the music, soulful jazz or blues, as it lifted on the breeze from an open window. She paused and listened, watching him for a minute or two. Suddenly he turned his head and looked directly up at her, as if he could sense her watching him. She blushed and quickly looked away, returning to her chest of drawers. She felt embarrassed, worried he would think she was a desperate housewife, stalking him from across the street.
Tasha turned her attention back to the task in hand. As she pulled open the top drawer it occurred to her just how rarely she ever wore the sets of matching lingerie that lay abandoned at the back. In fact, she couldn’t recall the last time she had put one on. It seemed like a lifetime ago when Charlie used to surprise her with gifts of underwear, beautifully wrapped in layers of tissue paper, delicate lace and silk. She remembered him ripping the buttons off her shirt during one particularly passionate encounter in his enthusiasm to take off her clothes. She longed to experience that level of desire again. She still enjoyed making love to Charlie; it was comforting and familiar, easy even. They knew what worked and how to please each other, but the voracious appetite for one another that they had experienced at the start of their relationship had disappeared.
💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕
Author Bio
writing she works as a primary school teacher and she particularly enjoys teaching English.
She studied Italian and History of Art at the University of Edinburgh and did a PGCE in primary education at the University of London.
Follow Georgie
Website: https://georgiecapron.com/
Twitter: @GeorgieCapron
Facebook: @GeorgieCapron
Follow Aria
Website: www.ariafiction.com
Twitter: @aria_fiction
Facebook: @ariafiction
Instagram: @ariafiction
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