Meet Me in Barcelona

A surprise trip to Barcelona with her boyfriend, Jake, seems like the perfect antidote to Grace Sawyer’s current woes. The city is dazzling and unpredictable, but the biggest surprise for Grace is discovering who arranged and paid for the vacation.

Carrie Ann wasn’t just Grace’s foster sister. Clever, pretty, and mercurial, she was her best friend—until everything went terribly wrong. Now, as she flees an abusive marriage, Carrie Ann has turned to the one person she hopes will come through for her. Despite her initial misgivings, Grace wants to help. But then Carrie Ann and Jake both go missing. Stunned and confused, Grace begins to realize how much of herself she’s kept from Jake—and how much of Carrie Ann she never understood. Soon Grace is baited into following a trail of scant clues across Spain, determined to find the truth, even if she must revisit her troubled past to do it.

Mary Carter’s intriguing novel delves into the complexities of childhood bonds, the corrosive weight of guilt and blame, and all the ways we try—and often fail—to truly know the ones we love.

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Read Chapter One here.


My Review

I did like this book but I felt that it could have been shortened up some. This is because it felt long and drawn out before anything really happened. It took about half way before Carrie Ann and Jake go missing. The past events of Grace's life starts to be revealed than as well. So the second half of the story was a faster read. Which to be honest, I thought the characters were just alright. There was nothing too exciting about them. Well except for Grace and her tie with Carrie Ann. But before this was revealed I had no real interest in any of the characters. The reason I sticked with this book was because the author did do a good job of telling the story and the location. I was instantly transported to Barcelona, Spain. It was like I was right there with Grace every step of the way. Oh and the ending of this book was good. So that was a plus.



PUYB Meet the Author


Mary Carter is a freelance writer and novelist.  Meet Me in Barcelona is her eighth novel. Her other works include:  Three Months in Florence, The Things I Do For You, The Pub Across the Pond, My Sister’s Voice, Sunnyside Blues, She’ll Take It, and Accidentally Engaged.  In addition to her novels she has written six novellas: Return to Hampton Beach in the anthology, Summer Days, A Southern Christmas in the upcoming 2014 anthology Our First Christmas, A Kiss Before Midnight in the anthology, You’re Still the One, A Very Maui Christmas in the New York Times best selling anthology Holiday Magic, and The Honeymoon House in the New York Times best selling anthology Almost Home. Mary currently lives in Chicago, IL with a demanding labradoodle. She wishes she could thank her gorgeous husband, but she doesn’t have one. In addition to writing she leads writing workshops.

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BARCELONA, SPAIN
 
A few thoughts from my holiday…
By
Grace Sawyer
 
I love the sound of Spanish guitar, and it’s heaven to sit on a bench in Barcelona and let the street musicians serenade me. The wine melts in my mouth and it’s only a matter of minutes before I feel like I’m floating on top of the notes. We needed this little break, Jake and I. He’s so busy with his practice during the day, and I’m singing my heart out in Nashville bars at night. I have to enjoy every second we have. So why can’t I? I’m worried about my mother, that’s a given. But she wanted us to take this trip. We’re filming everything so she can live it through us. Jake is having a ball with his new video camera and I have to admit I like having his attention so keenly fixed on me, like playing actress and camera guy. Especially when we get to fall into bed every night. So why do I have this feeling like someone is watching us? I’m constantly looking over my shoulder. It’s a pretty crowded city, especially in the summer, so every time I turn around I see a sea of strange faces. Some look back at me, some do not. It’s the heat, Jake said when I told him I thought we were being watched. The heat can make you crazy. Gelato helps. So does the wine. And the jamon and cheese sandwiches, and the street performers. Maybe I am a little crazy. But the bad feeling just won’t go away. I haven’t had this sense of dread in a long time. I used to have it a lot. It used to follow me all day long, sit on my shoulder like a songbird. I imagine I’m on a game show. The host stands in front of me, smiling for the studio audience. “Name that feeling!” he says. Name. That. Feeling. The audience echoes. Oh I can do it. I can name that dreadful feeling all right. I can name it in two words: Carrie Ann.
     

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