50 Hours by Loree Lough Release Tour and Giveaway!


HAPPY RELEASE DAY

From Bestselling and Award Winning Author
Loree Lough

Based on a Screenplay by Kevin James O'Neill

"This is the kind of book that wins Pulitzer Prizes."

- Catherine Lanigan, Author of Romancing the Stone

50 Hours

50 HOURS

Loree Lough

Genre: General Fiction
Publisher: Progressive Rising Phoenix Press
Publication Date: June 30, 2017


A broken man, a dying woman, and a friendship that changes them both.

Franco Allessi is a broken, lonely man who wants nothing more than to outrun the ghosts of his past. For years, he tries to numb the pain of his wife's death with cheap beer and whiskey. When he's convicted of drunk driving, the judge revokes his license for six months and orders him to serve fifty hours of community service. Franco chooses Savannah Falls Hospice for no reason other than it's walking distance from his dilapidated house trailer.

On his first day on the job, he meets Aubrey Brewer, a woman whose time on earth is quickly ticking to a stop. Their unusual connection teaches powerful, life-changing lessons about friendship, acceptance, and the importance of appreciating that precious treasure called Life.

Loree Lough is an exceptional author, and that's why I approached her about writing the novel for my Feature film, 50 Hours. But I had no idea how wonderful her novelization would be until I read it. Loree was able to dig so deep into my characters. She unearthed and richly developed the filmā€™s skeletal characters and give them three dimensional lives. I am so happy with the book!
- Kevin Oā€™Neill, writer/director/actor/producer

Praise for 50 Hours by Loree Lough


50 Hours is a moving story about love, loss, friendship, and last chances. Itā€™s a reminder that our lives are precious stories, no matter how long or short. This is a must-read for all of us who have been touched by cancer ā€“ victims, caregivers, family, and friends. This poignant and touching tale will inspire hope in the midst of even the darkest hours.
- Cerella Sechrist, author of the popular Findlay Roads series from Harlequin

50 Hours 3D

You'll laugh, you'll cry... 50 Hours is an unforgettable tale of healing, redemption, and the cost of true love. With a delicate pen, author Loree Lough writes an honest and poignant view of what cancer patients face with commendable bravery. A must-read for readers of every kind!
- Rachel Muller, author of bestselling World War II series, Love & War, and the newly released, Phillip's War

Loree Lough took a difficult subject and turned it into a compelling read with light humor to soften the inevitable sadness that comes with a depressing disease.
- Emma Gingerich ā€“ author of Runaway Amish Girl; the Great Escape

50 Hours is a book you wonā€™t be able to put down, and its messages of love and compassion will linger with you long after youā€™ve turned the last page.
- Kate James, award-winning author of Sanctuary Cove, Silver Linings, and The Truth About Hope

The novel is a reminder that life is indeed short, but always worth living. And almost alwaysā€¦ one life will touch many others. Great job Loree!
- Robin Bayne, author of Reunion At Crane Lake. www.robinbayne.com

Emerson said, "To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded." Aubrey and Franco succeeded. Believe me when I say, THIS IS THE KIND OF BOOK THAT WINS PULITZER PRIZES.
- Catherine Lanigan, author of Romancing the Stone, The Jewel of the Nile, and over forty-five novels and non-fiction

To read the complete praises and accolades, visit the 50 Hours Book Page at Book Unleashed.


Purchase Links


Available now. Grab your copy today.


50 Hours Teaser

An Excerpt from the Book


Take an inside look at 50 Hours with this sizzling excerpt from the book.


DURING THE DRIVE BETWEEN THE COURTHOUSE AND MAMAā€™S BOY DINER, David Gibbons barely spoke. Even now, seated at their table near the windows, he remained quiet. Except for reciting his breakfast order, he hadnā€™t said a word, but Franco knew it was only a matter of time before he let him have it with both barrels, as his grandpa used to say.
Finally, when the waitress was out of earshot, he stared hard at Franco.
ā€œWell?ā€
A-a-and there it is, he thought, running shaky hands through his hair. ā€œOkay. Look. I know I should have called before all hell broke loose, but . . . but I was testing myself.ā€
David grabbed the sugar dispenser. ā€œTesting yourself.ā€ He sounded more like a disappointed dad than an AA sponsor.
ā€œI thought maybe I could get through it on my own this time.ā€
ā€œBull.ā€ He let the white granules stream into his cup. ā€œYou didnā€™t think. If you had, you wouldā€™ve given a thought to what happened last year. And the year before that.ā€
Franco knew heā€™d messed up. Again. And that he had nobody to blame but himself. Head pounding, he rubbed his temples as Davidā€™s spoon clanked against the sides of the mug. Had he ever met anyone who made more noise stirring coffee? He didnā€™t think so.
David pointed at Francoā€™s swollen lips and the bloody butterfly bandage a nurse at the jail had taped over his left eyebrow. ā€œSo, who cleaned your clock?ā€
ā€œWell, there was this pool cue, see . . . ā€
ā€œReal funny. I notice youā€™re favoring your right ankle. I suppose the pool cue did that, too.ā€
ā€œNo. That was the work of the biker, attached to the pool cue.ā€ Franco chuckled, then gripped his aching ribcage.
ā€œBusted ribs too, huh?ā€
ā€œProbably.ā€
ā€œProbably? You mean they didnā€™t take you to the ER?ā€
ā€œThey offered. I said no.ā€
ā€œIdiot.ā€
David couldnā€™t call him anything he hadnā€™t already called himself.
ā€œYouā€™re gonna have one heckuva scar when you peel that bandage off your forehead. Maybe itā€™ll serve as a reminder, help you really think next time you decide to, ah, test yourself.ā€
ā€œYouā€™re all heart, David. All heart.ā€ He smirked. ā€œExcept for your mouth, of course. Thatā€™s more like another part of your anatomy.ā€
David waved away the insult. ā€œYou know how frustrating it is, watching you get this close to earning your one-year chip,ā€ he said, thumb and forefinger an inch apart, ā€œand then you go and bungle it by pulling another dumb stunt? Every. Single. Year?ā€
Franco didnā€™t have a comeback for that one. Heā€™d screwed up. Royally. At least no one got hurt, other than himself. David knew it, too.
The men sat in stony silence as the waitress delivered their food.
David peeled back the top of a tiny jelly container. ā€œWhen was the last time you went to a meeting?ā€ he asked, smearing its contents on a wedge of toast.
It had been more than a month, but Franco didnā€™t want to open himself up to another firestorm, so he stuffed his mouth with food and shrugged.
David counted on his fingers: ā€œPushing your limits. Breaking the rules. Avoiding tough questions.ā€ He salted his eggs. ā€œYou remind me so much of my kid, itā€™s almost scary.ā€ He used his fork as a pointer. ā€œAnd that shouldnā€™t come across as a compliment, since heā€™s ten.ā€
TouchƩ, Franco thought, gulping his OJ. He winced when it stung the cuts inside his mouth.
ā€œMaybe this community service stuff will finally shake some sense into you.ā€
Heā€™d been acting like a fool for so long, it had become a habit. And yet he said, ā€œMaybe.ā€
ā€œHow long did the judge give you to choose your community service project?ā€
ā€œTwenty-four hours.ā€
ā€œWell, it just so happens I have an idea.ā€
Franco stopped chewing. ā€œYeah?ā€
ā€œThereā€™s a hospice, a half-mile or so from your trailerā€” which is lucky for you, since you canā€™t driveā€”and I happen to know theyā€™re in need of a gardener.ā€
Before Jillā€™s death, his landscape business had kept the wolf from the door. In the three years since, the only garden tool heā€™d touched had been the shovel Clayton kept out back for scooping up his dogā€™s poop. It might be nice, working hard again. Working so hard that he fell into bed too exhausted to have nightmares about the wreck that took Jill from him.
ā€œYou know the old saying, ā€˜If it seems too good to be trueā€™?ā€ Franco lifted one shoulder in an indifferent shrug. ā€œBut youā€™ve got my attention.ā€
David explained that his sister-in-law had spent her final days at Savannah Falls. ā€œSo I know for a fact that itā€™s a great place. I can take you over there, make introductions.ā€
ā€œI dunno, Dave. A hospice center? You know better than anybody that Iā€™m not exactly a people person. Dealing with sick people?ā€ He winced again.
ā€œOh, quit your bellyaching. Youā€™ll be outside, mowinā€™ and hoeinā€™, and the patients will be insideā€”ā€
ā€œā€”dying.ā€ Hungry as he was, Franco shoved his plate aside, because it hurt to chew, and the bacon and buttery eggs burned the cut on his lip. ā€œI dunno,ā€ he said again.
ā€œYouā€™ll do fine, if you just do your job and keep your big yap shut. For a change.ā€
Franco grinned despite himself. Had it been good luck or bad that put him together with a guy who never sugar-coated anything?
David slid his cell phone across the table. ā€œCall your lawyer, find out how we go about informing the judge that youā€™ve decided to get back into the posie-planting business. Cause last thing you need right now is to violate courthouse protocol.ā€
Franco slid Carlisleā€™s card from his pocket, and as he dialed, David said, ā€œWhen youā€™re through there, Iā€™ll call Mrs. Kane, the director, arrange a meeting between you two. Sheā€™s a good egg, but she doesnā€™t take any guff, so Iā€™d watch my step if I were you. With any luck, sheā€™ll put you to work tomorrow.ā€
ā€œI have a job, yā€™know.ā€ At least he hoped he had a job. Clayton might tell him to take a permanent hike once he heard . . . everything.
It only took a minute to run the hospice idea past the young attorney, and less than that to find out that a phone call from Carlisle would get things straight with Judge Malloy.
He returned Davidā€™s phone. ā€œThe kid said I should get over to Savannah Falls and sign up ASAP. Said the judgeā€™s office wouldnā€™t waste any time checking up on me. And that I need to keep track of my hours, so that when the paperwork comes through . . . ā€
Phone pressed to his ear, David wasnā€™t listening, because heā€™d already connected with Savannah Falls. Franco picked up a slice of cold bacon, and took care not to let it graze his sore lips when he bit off a chunk. He slid the plate close again. Hard to tell when heā€™d have the timeā€”or the moneyā€”for another meal, so he did his best to clean his plate, listening as David explained the situation to the takes-no-guff Mrs. Kane.
ā€œShe can meet with you this afternoon,ā€ he said, dropping the phone into his shirt pocket.
It was all happening too fast. Way too fast for Francoā€™s taste. ā€œBut . . . but I need to figure out how to get the Jeep out of the impound lot. And get over to the garage, see if Clayton can find something for me to do that doesnā€™t involve a driverā€™s license.ā€
ā€œIā€™ll chauffer you around today. But first things first. Iā€™m taking you home so you can clean up your boozy self. You need a shower. A toothbrush. And a change of clothes.ā€ He wrinkled his nose. ā€œYou lookā€”and smellā€”like something my cat puked up.ā€
ā€œCat puke, huh?ā€ Franco smirked, even though it hurt to do it. ā€œPeople can call you a lot of things, Gibbons, but tactful isnā€™t one of them.ā€
ā€œTact!ā€ David got to his feet and tossed a twenty onto the table. ā€œWho has time for tact with you falling off the wagon and going ballistic every couple months?ā€
Ordinarily, a crack like that would have set Franco off. For some reason, it struck him as weird penance, because he knew he had it coming.

Giveaway


WIN

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Prizes up for grabs:
$10 Amazon Gift Card
50 Hours (eBook Copy)
50 Hours (Print Copy)

Contest runs from June 30 - July 8, 2017.


About Loree Lough


Loree Lough
Bestselling author LOREE LOUGH once sang for her supper, performing across the U.S. and Canada. Now and then, she blows the dust from her 6-string to croon a tune or two, but mostly, she writes novels that have earned hundreds of industry and "Readers' Choice" awards, 4- and 5-star reviews, and 7 book-to-movie options. Her 115th book, 50 Hours, is her most personal to date. Recently released, The Man She Knew, book #1 in her ā€œBy Way of the Lighthouseā€ series from Harlequin Heartwarming.


Official website: http://www.loreelough.com/

Connect with Loree Lough on social media:


Book Tour Schedule


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Follow the book tour from June 30 - July 8, 2017.

Discover more features, excerpts, reviews, interviews, fun facts and other extras on the tour.

To check the latest tour schedule, visit the 50 Hours Book Page at Book Unleashed.



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