Spotlight & Giveaway: What Matters Most by Courtney Walsh

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Courtney Walsh to HJ!

Hi Courtney and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, What Matters Most!

 
I’m so glad you’re here! I hope you enjoy reading about my newest novel!
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

What Matters Most is the story about a young mother who moves to Nantucket to begin a new life. After the death of her husband a few years before, she went into survival mode, and this is her chance to prove to herself she can make it on her own. Her plans are interrupted, though, when a handsome stranger shows up at her door.
Sparks fly when he agrees to help her renovate the apartment over her garage so she can turn it into an AirBnb, and she begins to wonder if Nantucket is the place for second chances in more than one area of her life—but both of them have secrets that threaten to destroy their relationship before they even get started.
 

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

“An artist who isn’t creating is just a shell of himself.”
“But if you don’t let yourself leap every once in a while, you’ll miss out on so much.”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• To create Emma’s Air Bnb apartment, I spent far too long scrolling through photos of Nantucket Air Bnbs. This, of course, turned into dreaming of another trip to the island, complete with a full Nantucket tour, lots of sightseeing and indulging in some of the incredible food you can find there.
• Sometimes a title will hit me before I even start writing a book. This time, that wasn’t the case. In fact, I think this book had a few different working titles—the one I remember most being Back to December because when I’d envisioned this book, much of the action took place during the winter. But once I changed the setting to Nantucket, I knew a summer book was a must, so I brainstormed ideas…and then I remembered something my nephew used to say when he was a toddler. In his cute little voice, he’d say “What matters?” and it was one of those phrases we’d repeat in that voice because it was so cute. So, I started thinking of that and then “What Matters Most” came to me…and it just fit.

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

I think they have a lot in common. They both have a secret grief born out of regret, but neither has told anyone. It’s like they connect on a deeper level almost instantly because they can sense that about each other.

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

Such a tough question! It’s too hard to choose… You’ll have to read and see what scenes have you blushing, laughing, or crying!

Readers should read this book….

because I think they’ll love it as much as I LOVED writing it! I’ve been carrying the idea around with me for years, but when I finally sat down to write it, what came out was so much more, especially the whole idea of grace and forgiveness. I think readers who love a sweet, tender romance with a lot of secrets will love this book…and of course, it’s a great way to go to Nantucket without all the travel!

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

I’m currently working on two things: my new book, which will release early 2023 and an original musical I’m writing with my husband based on The Rockford Peaches. We’ll be producing it this summer (finally) after a two year hiatus!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: One print copy of What Matters Most by Courtney Walsh, US only.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Have you ever been to Nantucket? If yes, what are some of your favorite things about it? If no, is it on your bucket list?

 
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Excerpt from What Matters Most:

THE LIST STUCK TO THE REFRIGERATOR was meant to motivate Emma
Woodson, but in that moment, it seemed only to taunt. She stared at
the words she’d scribbled in a rare moment of bravery and struggled
not to roll her eyes at her own naiveté.
The Year of Emma.
The idea had come to her one night two months ago when her
best friend, Elise, had shown up uninvited to force her to celebrate a
birthday she very much did not feel like celebrating.
Turning thirty wasn’t something to celebrate, after all. Not for
Emma.
But try telling that to Elise. She was not the kind of person who
would let a milestone birthday go unnoticed, which was why she
dragged Emma out to a Mexican restaurant and forced her to wear a
giant sombrero all the way through to dessert.
“What are you doing, Em?” she’d asked her in a tone that suggested a loaded question.
“You mean besides trying to find a way to set this hat on fire
without burning the restaurant down?”
“I mean with your life,” Elise said.
Emma picked up her Coke and took a drink. “I’m surviving.”
Barely.
“Don’t you think it’s time you stopped surviving?”
“And what, die?” Emma set her drink down. She knew what was
coming, and she wasn’t interested. She didn’t want to hear about how
she was wasting her life. Not today. She already knew— she didn’t
need the reminder.
“No,” Elise said. “You’re practically coding and you’re calling that
a life. Enough’s enough already.”
It was easy for Elise to say. Her life was nearly perfect. She’d married Teddy, the love of her life, at twenty-three, had a baby at twenty-five on her first try, another baby at twenty-seven, also on her first try,
and now she stayed home with her kids in the big, beautiful home
funded by her husband’s new job in private security.
Elise didn’t understand Emma’s circumstances, no matter how
empathetic she was.
Elise pulled a notebook out of her purse and wrote in block
letters: THE YEAR OF EMMA. She turned it around and slid it
across the table.
“What’s this?”
“Tonight we declare that this is the year everything changes for
you,” Elise said. “And we’re putting it in writing.”
Emma frowned. “My life is fine.”
But Elise’s sardonic laugh told the truth. “Em, when was the last
time you did something for yourself? Or something just for fun? You
work in a job you hate. You hardly sleep. Most days I don’t even think
you eat. And you never smile anymore.”
The waiter returned with fried ice cream, and Emma’s memory
drifted back to the last birthday she’d spent with Cam. He’d made
her a three-layer strawberry cake from scratch. As he presented it to
her, the top tier slid right off the plate and onto the floor. He’d been
disappointed at first, but the whole adorable scene struck Emma as
so funny it took her a solid three minutes to stop laughing.
Was that the last time she’d smiled?
Elise took a bite of ice cream. “So here’s the deal. You make a list
of all the things you want to do to remind yourself you’re still alive.
You’ve been avoiding living—you know that, right?”
Emma jabbed her spoon into the ice cream, crunching through
the outside layer. “So you’ve said.”
“Sorry,” Elise said. “It’s worth repeating.”
“I’m doing the best I can.” She took a bite and avoided Elise’s gaze.
Because they both knew it was a lie, and Elise wouldn’t let it slide.
Now, as she stood in the kitchen of the small Nantucket cottage,
surrounded by unpacked boxes, she scanned the list one last time
before heading out the door.
Find a job I actually like was number five on the list, and today was
the day she hoped to cross it off. She glanced at the clock, and a sudden wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. She’d been working
as a waitress the last few years, but this job—in an actual art gallery,
a reputable, high-end gallery—would give her a chance to work in
the field she’d always wanted to work in. Before she let her dreams
become a distant memory.
First, she had to make it to the interview on time.
“CJ?” she called out. “You ready?”
She walked into the living room, where her five- year- old son
stood, looking out the window. “There’s a man out there.”
Emma came up behind CJ and followed his gaze to the sidewalk,
where a man approached the house. He had a duffel slung over his
shoulder. “Oh! Probably answering the ad.” Bad timing. She’d have
to give him a rush tour of the apartment if she was going to drop CJ
at day care and make it to the interview on time.
“You ready?” She took her son’s hand and pulled him toward the
front door. She opened it and waved at the man on the sidewalk.
“Hey there!”
He met her eyes and stopped moving.
“You must be here about the ad.” She pulled CJ down the stairs
and toward the sidewalk. “I’m actually relieved. I was starting to think nobody was going to respond to it.” She gave him a once-over. He
was probably a year or two older than she was and rugged-looking,
like Bear Grylls but with disobedient hair, the kind of disheveled that
said, I’m not trying very hard.
It suited him. Emma had no interest in dating, but if she did, he
would’ve probably been the kind of guy that would’ve captured her
attention.
His bright hazel eyes alone seemed worth exploring.
“I’m kind of in a hurry.” She forced herself to maintain her composure. “But I can run you up there quick to take a look?”
He almost appeared confused for a second. He glanced at CJ, who
was staring at him—this stranger—and then back at Emma. “Okay.”
“CJ, go sit on the porch, okay? We’ll leave in just a minute.”
Her son did as he was told. Emma took her keys from her bag and
motioned for the man to follow her.
“The apartment is above the garage,” she said. “It’s nothing
fancy, and it needs some work, but I suppose that’s where you’d
come in.” She didn’t look at him, but she knew he was following
close behind as they walked up the steps to the apartment. Cam’s
apartment. He’d spent his summers in the cottage with his grandparents when he was a kid, and when he got older, they converted
it into his space.
He’d always talked about turning it into a rental. It had been a
dream, really. He said it would be a good extra income, but Emma
had always suspected it was more than that. Cam wanted to share
Nantucket with as many people as he could.
When she opened that door, the memory of her late husband
would be waiting for her.
She’d had most of Cam’s things shipped here after he died—it had
always been her plan to move here once she was back on her feet. She
just didn’t expect that it would take five years, which was how long
Cam’s belongings had been sitting here.
Still in boxes. She couldn’t bear to face it then, and she was pretty
sure she wouldn’t be able to face it now.
“I hope you have a good imagination.” She stuck the key in the lock
and glanced over her shoulder at the man. “It’s a work in progress.”
She pushed open the door, struck by the musty smell of an abandoned space that had been locked up and forgotten about, which was
exactly what it was.
She really should’ve assessed the state of the apartment before
placing that ad, but she hadn’t found the courage. Now she took a
step inside. A label on the box in the corner drew her attention. Cam’s
stuff was written in bold black marker in his handwriting. She hadn’t
seen his handwriting in so long.
The sight of it sent her pulse racing. She flipped the light on and
looked at the man. “You can look around. I’ll just wait outside.”
She stepped out onto the deck and forced herself to breathe.
Calm down, Emma. She spotted CJ rolling a truck down the
length of the porch. “I know it looks bad,” she called through the
doorway. “But that’s why the rent is included. I figured I can’t really
pay much for someone to clean it out and get it ready for renters,
but I can offer a free place to stay. It just might take a day or two to
make it livable.”
The man reappeared in the doorway. “So the rent’s included?”
She frowned. Hadn’t he read the ad? “Yes. In exchange for cleaning out the apartment and getting it ready to rent. I’ve got a list of
things that need to be done—painting, cleaning, repairs. It’s mostly
cosmetic, but who knows what you’ll find once you start?”
Truthfully, she’d made that list based on assumptions. She had no
idea the condition of Cam’s apartment.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay, you’ll do it?”
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and studied her
for a beat longer than she expected. She looked away.
“Yeah, I’ll do it.”
She turned to him and smiled. “Oh, good. Honestly, I was getting
worried. I placed the ad two weeks ago, and nobody’s even been by
to look at it.” Did she sound as desperate as she felt?
“Don’t you need some references?” he asked. “Or at least my
name?”
He was almost smiling. He was handsome. Maybe a little too
handsome, with sandy-colored hair on the dark side of blond. A few
days of growth on his face—he wore it well. Cam’s face was always
clean-shaven, and his hair was always military short.
“Ma’am?”
She realized she hadn’t answered his question. That he was still
considering taking this job was something of a miracle. “Sorry. Yes,
I should probably get both. Your name and your references.”
“Jameson Shaw.” He extended his hand toward her, and she took
it. “But most people call me Jamie.”
She looked down at his hand, wrapped around her own. It was
nothing, just a handshake, and yet she was so keenly aware of his
touch it felt like something more. “Emma Woodson.” She pulled her
hand from his and pressed her palm against her leg.
“Can I drop my references off to you later? I don’t have them
on me.”
“Of course,” she said, though it was slightly irresponsible of him
to apply for a job with no references. The thought reminded her
that she had a job interview of her own, and if she didn’t hurry, she’d
be the irresponsible one. “I’m sorry. I really should get going. You
can stop back later this evening with your references if that works
for you?”
He started to say something but seemed to change his mind as
the words were coming out of his mouth. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Emma Woodson is hoping the cobblestone streets of Nantucket and the charm of her late husband’s family cottage will be the fresh start she and her young son, CJ, need. Securing a dream job at an art gallery is one more step along the path to a new life . . . and away from a piece of her history she hopes will never be revealed. Falling in love with the kind and handsome guy she hires to clean out the rental apartment above the garage wasn’t part of the plan.

Jameson Shaw came to Nantucket for one reason: deliver his letter to Emma and never return. But when he sees an opportunity to help her, he takes a chance, desperate to atone for his past. He never planned to keep his connection to her husband a secret or to fall in love with her. After all, he knows that their new relationship might not survive the discovery of who he really is.
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Meet the Author:

Courtney Walsh is the author of more than ten contemporary romance books. Her debut novel, A Sweethaven Summer, was a New York Times and USA Today e-book bestseller and a Carol Award finalist in the debut author category. In addition, she has written two craft books and several full-length musicals. Courtney lives with her husband and three children in Illinois, where she is also an artist, theatre director, and playwright.
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