*Bird After Bird by Leslea Tash
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Dear Birdy, Princess Birdzilla von MuffinStuff, Keeper of Dreams, Lover of our Fine Feathered Friends, queen of my life and light of my world, I hope this letter finds you well. If you are reading this then I am gone, and sweetheart, I am so sorry.
Chi-town professional Wren Riley is 25 and a rising star in the business world. She can eat a man alive and laugh about it to her girlfriends in seconds flat--and she does, on the regular. Behind the power suits and the flashing, flirty eyes, however, Wren has a secret, vulnerable side. Following a devastating loss and the discovery of a bird journal she and her father made together years before, Wren sets out to seek peace, closure, and something she just can't name. Is that something tied to the little paper cranes she keeps finding along the way?
Laurence Byrd grew up a lanky Hoosier kid with the good/bad fortune of having the same name as the state's perennial basketball legend. With a better affinity for dogs than sports or school, he ends up in the Army instead of the Chicago art school of his dreams. Still, his service to our country is something he can be proud of--until an argument with the girl who means the world to him results in a series of events that blows his life apart. With no one left to understand him, black sheep Laurie pours out his heart into letters and drawings he never intends to send--then he folds them into paper cranes that he leaves behind like messages in little winged bottles. He never dreams someone might be finding them.
God damn it, Sylvia, for a few moments I tricked myself into feeling really alive. I cut it off before anyone got hurt, but just for a moment or two, I really thought I might feel something again--something like trust. Something like love. Not the kind of love we had, but something new. Something like hope.
Spoiler alert: Wren and Laurie are going to meet. And when they do, their lives are never going to be the same.
He had pretty eyes. Almost too
pretty, with long lashes that curled at the end. If the set of his jaw hadn’t
been so square and covered with five o’clock shadow, if his grown-out high and
tight haircut hadn’t screamed “Army Reservist,” I would have sworn those eyes
were mascaraed and lined.
“You talking to me?” I dabbed at my
face with the wet paper towels. My skin was blotchy beneath my makeup, but I’d
managed to wipe up most of the mascara from my cheeks. Even with false
eyelashes I couldn’t duplicate the kind of eyes the man in the doorway had. Now
that my makeup was wrecked, they were like short spindly spider legs. Ugh.
“Yeah, you,” he said. He had short
brown hair and a friendly face, and he extended his hand to me like he was
ready to fish me out of the water instead of a restroom. “No use herding Billy
outta here. He hit up the men’s room first and it was locked—I was supposed to
stand guard and keep anyone from going in after him, but you moved so fast I
couldn’t stop ya.”
The man in the stall contributed
more sound effects to the situation. I will spare you the details.
“C’mon and bail,” the nice guy
said.
I took his arm. There was something
soothing about him. The thought briefly flickered through my mind that he could
be a dog whisperer or a horse trainer—something to that effect. He had a gentle
vibe about him, despite his height and the reservist look.
“Thanks,” I said. “I, uh, guess I
better find some other place to freshen up.”
He smiled and looked down at his
boots. They were work boots—the kind with steel toes and a buff leather finish.
They disappeared beneath the frayed cuffs of faded jeans, and he scratched his
forearm as I dropped it, beneath the sleeve of a light blue work shirt. I
expected there would be a red oval with a name embroidered on the chest, but it
was just out of sight at this angle.
Wren comes home to Birdseye from Chicago to settle her father's estate after he died. He left her a letter inside their old bird journal they made together on a bird watching journey. I found her father's words very touching. Her close connection to her dad and his love for her was very clear. My favorite part of the story I think because I know what it feels like to have lost a parent.
She meets Laurence and suddenly finds a new reason to re-connect with her childhood home. Laurence is just a sweet, good ole' boy... and you can't help but like this guy. He was also dealing with a loss of his own. So, I guess you could say, "Birds of a feather flock together"... sorry, can't help it. My mind is now full of birdisms... :)
I would recommend this to fans of slow moving sweet romances who like a nice HEA. I thought it was a nicely written debut novel for this author.
ARC was provided in exchange for an honest review
Leslea Tash is a journalist-turned-novelist, an avid bird nerd and the happily married mom of four. She has been a professional writer for many years. This is her first romance novel.
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