Sarita Leone chose Helen Ravell’s ebook, Summer Wine. Excellent choice, Sarita! Sarita said, “The cover grabbed me right from the start and the story sounds like something sweet and light, just perfect to begin the summer.” I love the cover, too! I definitely want to read this book! Click on the title to buy from the DBP site or buy the kindle one from Amazon.

Helen’s book received a 5 rating from Fallen Angel Reviews.
BLURB:
He was hot and charming. She fell for him hard and fast. They were on the way from Australia to the US to meet the mother-in-law from Hell, the jobs they had lined up didn’t pay well, and her engagement ring was cheap, flashy bling, because that was all they could afford.
What did it matter? They had each other, and poor but honest is the stuff of fairytales.
Then Sam admitted he wasn’t poor, which meant he hadn’t been honest either. Things suddenly looked a whole lot grimmer. A different fairytale all together. The ring Claire thought was fake was real, and the man she thought was real was… well she’d just have to find out.
EXCERPT:
The lights in the cabin dimmed and she reclined her seat into the sleeping position, turned sideways, and tucked her left hand under her head.
She attempted to switch her thoughts off to get some rest, but no matter how she shifted, her engagement ring dug into her cheek. Claire sat up to remove it and slip it into her bag while she slept, but paused in the act of twisting it off. Her eyes widened.
Claire nudged Sam, stretched out in the seat beside her. “This is a diamond, isn’t it? A real diamond.” Her voice squeaked.
Sam opened sleepy eyes. “Of course it’s real. I wouldn’t buy you a fake for your engagement ring.”
She looked at the ring in horror. “Oh my god! I can’t wear this. Take it back. Take it away. Put it somewhere safe. That thing must be worth a fortune. What if I lost it? What if the stone fell out? What if I damaged it?”
Sam’s brows lifted, and he shook his head just slightly. “It’s the same ring it was yesterday or ten days ago. You weren’t worried about it then.”
She puffed out a breath. “Ten days ago I thought it was a Cubic Zirconia or something. Just as pretty, but its worth was in what it meant. But this is a real diamond. It must be worth — I don’t know — I don’t have any idea how much diamonds are worth. I don’t know things like that, never expected to. I can’t take this kind of responsibility. I can’t carry that much money around on my hand.”
He folded her hand into a fist. “Keep it where it’s been since I put it on your finger.” He shook his head again, scowling. “I can’t believe you thought it was a fake. God, Claire that would be tacky.”
Claire realized the conversation was about to slide into emotionally murky waters.
How could one explain to one’s husband that his wife no longer wanted her engagement ring because the stone was real, not fake, and too much like evidence of conspicuous consumption? She had to treat the ring as she had before. If it had come out of a bubblegum machine, she would have been careful with the ring because of what it symbolized. She would be equally careful with this one. Its cost was irrelevant.
It was easy enough to say. Believing it was a different matter.