Spotlight & Giveaway: Love In Translation by Joss Wood

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Joss Wood to HJ!

Hi Joss and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Love In Translation!

 
Hello! Lovely to be here.
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Rheo Whitlock’s life is exactly how she’d planned it—steady, predictable, and safe. Her career as a United Nations interpreter gives her the safety and certainty she craves after a childhood on the road with her van-life parents. But then she’s caught in a hot-mic incident and her world shifts. She loses her confidence, her cool, and her ability to translate.
Diagnosed with burnout, Rheo retreats to the one place nobody will look for her: the adventure-loving town of Gilmartin. She sneaks into The Pink House, her grandmother’s summer home. It’s quiet and a good place to work out her next steps. But nobody in her family, including her grandmother, knows she’s living there.
Enter Fletcher Wright, who’s arranged to rent The Pink House for a vacation. He’s the human embodiment of chaos, an adventure thrill-seeker with a restless spirit and someone who doesn’t understand the concept of sticking and staying. He thrives on adrenaline, always chasing the next big adventure. Sharing the rental The Pink House with Rheo is just another curveball and the instant chemistry between them is…interesting.
But when they start their summer fling, the lines between them start to blur. Fletcher is used to moving on when the thrill wears off. Rheo isn’t one for risks—in anything, but especially when her heart’s involved.
As their time in Gilmartin, and their fling, ends, they’ll both have to decide: is this just a fleeting connection, or are they ready to risk everything for the kind of love that could be their biggest adventure?
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

Yeah, they had chemistry in spades; it crackled and snapped, but nothing like that would happen with Rheo Whitlock. Fletch scrubbed his face. Jesus Christ. His fierce, immediate attraction to Carrie’s prickly, pretty cousin was a ball ache he didn’t need. If he was smart, he’d turn around, retrace his steps, and head back to Portland, his current base. Chances of him doing that? Roughly the same as him getting pregnant.
By immaculate conception.
Gilmartin, brimming with all the things he loved to do the most, intrigued him, and the Pink House was interesting and spacious. Unfortunately, his new housemate was a tiny meteor strike in human form. Earlier, he’d clocked her triangular, gamine face through the open bay window, and his mouth watered. Then she opened the door, and it took all his willpower not to drop to his knees.
She wasn’t conventionally pretty but, God, she packed a punch. Her long hair was rope-thick, as brown as deep, rich, untreated Nepali coffee beans, and her pale skin reminded him of the champagne-colored bubble coral he’d seen diving a reef in the Philippines. He’d had to remind himself not to stare at her shapely legs in those denim cutoffs.
Her eyes, a startling, crystal-clear blue, made his brains leak from his ears. He hadn’t felt this instinctive I-want-to-take-her-to-bed-immediately reaction to any woman since…well, forever. Before and after his expeditions—because he was a guy and not a monk—he’d taken what he could get: one-night stands, casual encounters, hookups with old friends. He was excellent at walking away. His reaction to Rheo was unusual; he was a little out of breath, a lot horny.
Fletch pulled in a breath, held it, released it in a long stream and rolled his shoulders. He was hot for his new housemate, and he’d agreed to keep her presence in the house, in this town, a secret.
You’ve been in town an hour, Wright. Excellent work.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

•  Throughout the book there are foreign phrases, insults and curses in different languages. I had so much fun finding them and went down many internet rabbit holes. You’re welcome. 😀
• There was a hot mic incident involving one of the United Nations interpreters, and that incident sparked the idea for this book.
• My hero Fletch talks about being caught in the avalanche that hit Everest’s base camp in 2015. A very good, old friend was at Base camp when the avalanche happened, and is lucky to be here today.
• I’ve been trying to get my bordello-pink house into a book for years! I finally got my chance in Love In Translation.

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

Rheo sees Fletch exiting his SUV from the window seat of The Pink House, and yeah, he’s gorgeous.

Rheo flipped the camera again—sharing was caring—and inspected the neighborhood’s latest visitor. He was tall and built. He sported the wide shoulders of an Olympic swimmer, and the muscles of his big arms strained the bands of his plain red T-shirt. His ancient jeans, faded to a soft dusty blue, clung to long muscled thighs, and his T-shirt skimmed a broad chest and flat stomach. He wasn’t Rheo’s type; even from a distance she sensed he was wild, untamable, and unpredictable. He was trouble with a capital T. In bold.
She liked her men urbane, controlled, stable, and steady. Men like that suited her life. The hottie outside was six-feet-plus of chaos.

For Fletch, Rheo answers the door to The Pink House looking professional on top, and wearing scruffy denim shorts and she’s lost her shoes. He’s intrigued.

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

I really enjoyed writing the scene where Fletch pushes Rheo to step out of her comfort zone.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m proud of you for calling Carrie, Rhee. You’ve taken the first step out of your comfort zone. It gets easier after this.”
She adjusted the rim of his cap, squinting at him. Okay, she had a hangover, but she was battling to keep up with him this morning.
“I’m as worried about telling my parents now as I was before, and I’m still terrified of telling my grandmother.”
“It’ll be fine, Rheo. The anticipation is always worse than the reality,” he said, running his hand over her shoulder. “Isn’t living beyond the comfort zone fun?”
She glared at him. “No.”
“If you wanted to do something different, something that would give you a massive confidence boost if you finished it, you could do the mud race.”
She stared at him, convinced the hot sun had fried his brains. Ich glaub mein Schwein pfeift? Was her pig, as the Germans said, whistling?
“Me, do a twelve-mile mud race? Are you batshit crazy?”
“You could never do twelve miles,” he said, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand.
“I know! I wasn’t the one who suggested it!” Rheo replied, nettled.
She needed to go inside the house, drink a pint of cold water to rehydrate, and swallow a handful of painkillers. And she also needed sleep.
“But you could do the fun race!” He wasn’t budging off his shitty idea.
“I am not running, walking, or climbing over anything, especially if there’s mud.”
“You should. There’s nothing quite like doing something outside your comfort zone and succeeding.” He placed another pole in the last hole, and they made it straight, with Rheo holding it in place. “But you might need to join a team.”
“I’m not a team player. Or a mud runner. Or a runner.”
Did he not know her at all? There was zero fun in getting sweaty and breathless and dirty.
“I’ll ask Mick and Sam to listen out for a team needing a fourth member,” Fletch said, shoveling concrete into the last hole.
He wasn’t listening, damn him. Hadn’t heard a word. Rheo made sure the pole wouldn’t topple before standing back. She turned to face Fletch, wound her fist in his shirt, whipped his cap off her head, and slapped it against his chest. “It’s not happening, Wright! Not now, not anytime in the future. And, should I decide to live beyond my comfort zone, I’ll choose what I want to do, not you.”
“You’ll change your mind,” Fletch replied.
His patronizing smile set Rheo’s teeth on edge. Because she was hungover, annoyed, edgy, and more than a little pissed off at his high-handed manner, Rheo placed her index finger on the pole and gently pushed. It didn’t take much for the pole to lean, and when gravity started to work, it popped out of the concrete with a little plop.
Fletch cursed and Rheo walked off, thinking he could sort it out on his own. He believed he could manage her life, so he could manage this too.
She had a hangover to nurse and a midmorning nap to enjoy.

Readers should read this book….

Can I let Publishers Weekly make the case for me?

“Wood makes the opposites-attract trope sing with believable leads who must come to realistic compromises and rethink their assumptions about each other. The result is sure to tug on readers’ heartstrings.”

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

I am releasing a romcom at the end of January, a fast, very funny book set on the island of Santorini, Greece, called One Bed.
Here’s the blurb “Rising star author Bea Williams needs a vacation. And her godmother’s snug Greek island retreat is the perfect place to use as an escape from her writer’s block.
Until she finds she’s going to have to share her idyllic one bed cottage with him – Gibson Caddell, one time childhood friend and a great big, drop-dead-gorgeous red flag. As the sun sets on Santorini, Bea’s thoughts soon turn to something much more pressing – there’s two of them. And only one bed…

And if you are looking for a Christmas book, I have two for you: Confessions of a Christmasholic (romcom) and Christmas with the Cowboy (contemporary western).
 
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: I’m giving away 3 eBook ARC copies of Love in Translation.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Rheo and Fletch are complete opposites and embody the ‘opposites attract’ trope. Are you and your partner alike or dissimilar? If you are single, would you consider a relationship with someone out of your comfort zone?

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 

Excerpt from Love In Translation:

“Hi? Um…can I help you?”
Those stunning eyes, flashing with intelligence, started at her bare feet and lazily climbed her body. He looked weirdly fascinated.
Rheo looked down. She’d ‘top dressed’ to appear professional for her video call with Nicole. From the waist up she looked office-ready: a men’s-style black button-down shirt, big gold earrings, and a funky copper and gold necklace. She’d added some light eye makeup and slicked on her favorite, only-for-special-occasions lipstick, YSL’s Le Rouge, for some extra confidence. But below the waist, her style could only be described as scruffy. A ragged pair of denim shorts just covered her butt cheeks, and she’d left her flip-flops somewhere.
The corners of his lips lifted and her knees softened. She didn’t think that was physically possible. Irritatingly, her synapses weren’t firing too well either.
“Hey. I presume you’re here to give me the key to this place?”
His accent matched his iconic British SUV: rough, deep, a little cut glass, a touch of lilt, a smidgeon of a burr. American enough to suggest he’d lived in this country for a while but Scottish enough to suggest his roots were buried in Celtic soil.
What did he say?
“Why would I give you a key?” she asked, puzzled.
“Because I’ve rented this place for the next few weeks?” He shifted his duffle bag to his other hand.
Das meinst du nicht im ernst?
“Why are you speaking German?”
She waved his question away. “Seriously?” she repeated her question in English. What was happening here?
“Carrie Whitlock told me I could find a key under the foot of the porch swing, but when I noticed you in the window, I assumed she arranged for you to meet me here to hand it over.”
Puzzle pieces floated around her brain, but none of them slotted together. “How do you know Carrie?”
“We’ve been friends for years.”
Friends, huh? And a pink pig just flew past.
He was the male equivalent of her lovely cousin: another member of the tribe of golden people: at ease in their skin, innately confident, and blindingly self-assured. Bold, gorgeous, ripped.
And, like Carrie, he made Rheo feel like a hobbit.
“I’m into outdoor adventures, and I’ve wanted to visit this area for years. Carrie suggested I rent this house and explore the area until she can join me in two weeks. Her grandmother agreed. Apparently, she doesn’t like the house empty for long stretches of time.”
“Bullshit!” Rheo snapped. “The Pink House is locked up every winter.”
He shrugged. “I’m just passing on what I was told. Carrie’s grandmother is considering extending her overseas trip, and renting the house will give her additional funds.”
Hold on a minute. Carrie knew Paddy was thinking of staying longer in Australia, but Rheo didn’t? Rheo got Paddy’s news first; Paddy confided in her, not Carrie. Why was she, Paddy’s favorite grandchild, playing catch-up?
Pot, kettle, black, Whitlock. You’re keeping some pretty big secrets yourself!
“Carrie also mentioned something about the rent helping with the cost of repairs, because old houses are a bitch to maintain,” he said, still looking relaxed and unhurried. “I’m her first client, a guinea pig of sorts. If letting the place doesn’t turn out to be a problem, she might rent it again instead of selling. So the pressure is on me.”
He grinned, inviting Rheo to share the joke, but she couldn’t. “Selling?” she whispered, aghast.
His words slapped her, hot and hard. Rheo hated Gilmartin, but she loved this house, and her best memories of her childhood and Paddy, the woman who loved and understood her best, the woman she didn’t want to disappoint, rested within the walls of this building.
Rheo wanted nothing more than to call her grandmother and yell at her for considering such a drastic option and then beg her not to sell. But she couldn’t because Paddy didn’t know she was here…
She caught the curiosity in his mossy green eyes and, beneath it, interest and a hit of heat. Or was she imagining his attraction? She probably was; goddesses like her cousin were his jam.
The Pink House’s new tenant was too much of a distraction, the reason Rheo couldn’t think clearly. And, God, she needed time to think. Just ten minutes, even five. Time to get blood back to her brain and her heart to stop its Energizer-Bunny-on-speed bouncing.
So Rheo did the only thing she could think of and slammed the heavy wooden door in his flabbergasted face.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Is love the one language she can’t speak?
Up until a few months ago, Rheo Whitlock had it all. Stability, self-confidence and a safe job as an interpreter for the United Nations… It was the secure sort of existence she had always dreamed of. But ever since an unfortunate incident threw her career into a tailspin, she’s been struggling.

Rheo knows the perfect place to escape to: her grandmother’s secluded hideaway in the breathtaking town of Gilmartin.

Fletcher Wright lives for adrenaline, always chasing the next high. So when he learns he’ll have to share his rental accommodations with Rheo – a stranger, basically – he simply chalks it up to another challenge. It doesn’t hurt that there’s an immediate attraction between them.

Before long, they’re not just sharing a house and new experiences – they’re sharing a bed. But when it’s time for Fletcher to move on to the next adventure, he and Rheo will both have to decide – are they ready to take the biggest risk of all?
Book Links:  Amazon | B&N | iTunes | kobo |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Joss loves books, coffee and traveling—especially to the wild places of Southern Africa and, well, anywhere. She’s the author of over seventy books, the majority published by Harlequin Presents and Harlequin Desire. She’s written romance action novels for Tule Publishing and is writing romantic comedies for the Harper Collins imprint, One More Chapter, and for Harlequin Afterglow.
Joss is a mom to two young adults, and she occasionally attempts to grow things, with very mixed (mostly bad) results. She and her husband are bossed around by two cats and a dog the size of a small cow. After a career in sales, local economic development and business advocacy, Joss writes full-time from her home in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa.
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | GoodReads |