THE PLACE WE CALL HOME BY Faith Hogan
PUB: ARIA (Head of Zeus)
PUB DATE: 9th JANUARY 2020
Buy links
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2reRKDx
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2JZqjEn
Google Play: https://bit.ly/2X1zd9T
iBooks: https://apple.co/33oLQhm
ABOUT THE BOOK:
Welcome to Ballycove, the home of Corrigan Mills...
Set against the backdrop of the beautiful Irish countryside the famed mills have created the finest wool in all of Ireland. Run by the seemingly perfect Corrigan family, but every family has its secrets, and how the mills came to be the Corrigan's is one of them...
Miranda and her husband were never meant to own the mills, until one fateful day catapults them into a life they never thought they'd lead.
Ada has forever lived her life in her sister's shadow. Wanting only to please her mother and take her place as the new leader of the mill, Ada might just have to take a look at what her heart really wants.
Callie has a flourishing international career as a top designer and a man who loves her dearly, she appears to have it all. When a secret is revealed and she's unceremoniously turfed out of the design world, Callie might just get what's she's been yearning for. The chance to go home.
Simon has always wanted more. More money, more fame, more notoriety. The problem child. Simon has made more enemies than friends over the years, and when one of his latest schemes falls foul he'll have to return to the people who always believe in him.
Ballycove isn't just a town in the Irish countryside. It isn't just the base of the famous mills. It's a place to call home.
Thoughts/Review:
Hogan wrote a mesmerizing epic love story that spans generations and families. Set in the beautiful western part of Ireland, where the beauty of nature lavishes in a place where your heart will settle, love will flourish, and definitely have all the right ingredients to call this place home. That is Ballycove.
Miranda Reilly met Richard Blair, a Londoner, in Ballycove as he spent his summers there for years with his grandparents and they became very close childhood friends. Through the years, their friendship developed more seriously until Richard is accepted in a prestigious university and their communication and visits between each other fell to the wayside.
The Blair family for generations have run the mills and over the years have really struggled to keep it afloat. With news that Richard is engaged to be married, Miranda entertains another suitor, Paddy Corrigan who is working for the Blairs and is helping them keep the mills afloat.
Hogan wrote and weaved beautifully the past and present about Miranda’s life, how the mills thrived into a multi-million dollar business and became the pride of Ballycove, and how the Blairs and Corrigans’ history have intertwined with secrets and revelation sure to tear your heart out. Hogan was a master of writing an amazing cast of characters in this intimate small town setting. I loved how the characters and their flaws all contribute well to the plot of the story.
The story pacing and how the present story interweaves with the past throughout the story was perfectly thought out and well placed, and moved the story beautifully. In just the right amount of time, the story revealed the next layer upon the next in a story timeline that kept my interest. The story tugged at my heartstrings and be sure to keep a handkerchief nearby. The sweet and tender story really got me and I enjoyed every minute reading about the beautiful Ballycove and it’s amazing residents.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Faith lives in the west of Ireland with her husband, four children and two very fussy cats. She has an Hons Degree in English Literature and Psychology, has worked as a fashion model and in the intellectual disability and mental health sector.
Follow Faith:
Twitter:
@GerHogan
Facebook:
@faithhoganauthor
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Website:
www.ariafiction.com
Twitter:
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Facebook:
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ENJOY THIS BOOK EXTRACT
Even now, when Miranda looked upon the stained silt of the riverbank,
she could see the tints that dominated woollen blankets that sat everywhere
from the White House to Downing Street. Ada, for all her acuity in the accounts
department, lacked that vision. It was a passion and Miranda wished it
fervently for her daughter, because she believed it brought with it an
unbridled joy that Ada so badly needed to make her into the woman Miranda hoped
one day she might become.
Callie had it. Combined with her raw talent, it was what had made her
youngest daughter into the worldwide success she had become. Miranda worried
about Callie, probably more than she should, but she knew that Callie’s life in
London was not as simple or as rosy as it looked. She worked hard, too hard in
Miranda’s opinion, and that left far too little time for anything else. Of
course, her youngest daughter had managed to net all of the trappings of a
successful life, but like her mother, material things counted for little to
Callie who was as happy raking out the garden as she was standing on the red
carpet of some glitzy event.
Miranda sighed; time seemed to collide on her more often these days with
the past almost as clear as anything in the present. Callie Corrigan was born
on a sunny day that seemed to herald the arrival of spring although it was late
autumn. Miranda smiled, remembering Paddy had been busy in the mills that day,
trying to shore up the old machines that were already running on prayer as much
as engine power. It was an exercise in sentimentality as much as prudence.
Miranda knew they could purchase new looms and weaving machines. They could
fill their factory floor with computerised gadgets that would save them money
in terms of wages and probably other overhead costs.
But the truth was, Miranda liked things as they were and she knew that
Paddy loved them too. She appreciated the crashing of the loom, the smell of
the yarn, the greetings from people like Tom Walsh, whose father and
grandfather had all carried out the same job before him. She loved the gleam of
the metal. When she ran her hand along the nameplates, she adored the feeling
that, in some way, she was connecting with the generations who had passed
before her and managed to keep the mills running while the world around it too
often lost its way.
No, she would not be letting go of the old for something sleek and
humourless. Even though Tom would frown when Big Betty stumbled, he would shake
his head and mutter, but his smile of kindliness was priceless as he’d nudge
the old machine into productivity once more.
Her husband, Paddy, had been neither a mechanic nor an engineer, but he
was a man with a good brain and an interest in tinkering with things until he
got them right. He worked away on many a black night and hummed quietly while
he set about maintaining all the machines in the mills. She loved to watch him,
as his big hands caressed the machines as much with tenderness as with
strength. In the end, he crafted a series of replacement cogs, bobbins and
timers and they had over the years, in their way, helped Miranda and made her
forget that she was carrying the weight of so many futures in her hands.
Unfortunately, their son Simon was nothing like his father. Simon had
grown up with that innate ability to seem as if he was pleasing everyone while
setting out only to please himself. If Miranda worried about any of her
children, it was Simon who had caused her the most sleepless nights over the
years. She feared that Simon would never grow into the man
she’d always hoped he’d be. Instead, it seemed he was doomed to crave a
lifestyle that his modest income would never match in the way he hoped. He was
destined never quite to meet the mark.
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