Handbag and Book: Welcome Hanna Park-A handbag which called her name and Finding Tiegan

About the Handbag:

I remember the moment like yesterday.

The little round handbag called my name––a brilliant blue eye ringed with circles. The bag teased my senses, an over-the-shoulder design crocheted with long fringes. Those fringes dancing on my hip appealed to my hippie soul. I had to have it. How could I say no? This perfect little bag would carry the necessities of life––room enough for a credit card and a smartphone. How cool was that? What more could I need?

My friend wooed and cooed. Buy it. Buy it. I love it. I love it. It was perfect. Or was it? Always the procrastinator and, I put the bag back. That eye held me as I wandered the aisles, as I circled the shop. I checked out a few more, but those fringes tugged at my heart. There could be no other. I sped up, threw the bag over my shoulder, crossbody. My breath left me in a sharp exhale. What if––what if my phone wouldn’t fit. No…say it isn’t so.

Whew… The perfect fit…the perfect little bag.

About the Book:

He stole my breath.

A holiday in the Algarve of Portugal…sunshine…fun-shine. It’s what I need. It’s time to be me. Time to find the woman I was before the nightmares, outlandish dreams, and sleepwalking. But I wasn’t expecting to find Tomás Ferreira, a man made for pleasure. And now, my heart throbs with unfulfilled excitement, fire burns in my belly, and swirling flames lick my thighs. I’m a glorious mess.

 

Where did Tiegan Moss come from? And why is she suddenly here on the day of the dead, the day the door to the otherworld swings open, the day the veil is thin? I’d hidden in the shadows, content, a life barely lived. You’ve changed everything. You make me want. You make my blood sing. Lost in your kaleidoscope eyes, trapped in the pout of your lips, I can’t escape. And I don’t like it one bit.

Can our two haunted souls find a future together?

About the Author: Hanna Park 

I began my writing career in the pre-dawn of a winter morning while my husband snored like a train. We could call my husband the catalyst. If it weren’t for him, I would never have gone to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, feed the cat, and sit on the loveseat in front of the fire. It was there, in those moments of wondrous quiet, that I did something I had never thought possible. I opened my laptop, and while the coffee went cold, I wrote a story. My husband had no idea that these sojourns to the loveseat in front of the fire would become a daily occurrence, that writing would become an obsession, but the cat knew. She knows everything.

Answer these questions:

Red, White or Blue? Red symbolizes passion, the life force that runs through our veins. Red is my favorite color. White symbolizes purity––can’t go there. Nope, won’t go there. Blue––did Zeus not make the skies rain when he was sad? 

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter? I love the smell of spring, dirt beneath your fingernails. The long hazy days of summer––and suntan lines. In the fall, I love bulky sweaters and rustling leaves. Winter––brrrr….hot chocolate spiked with Forty Creek.

Cake or Pie? Anything chocolate.

Coffee, Tea, or Champagne? I need my coffee in the morning…three or four…lol

Country music or Michael Buble? Michael Buble…And I’m feeling good.

Pencil or Pen? A pen…always write what you mean.

More information:

Finding Tiegan at: Amazon

Find Hanna Park at: Hanna Park