Tag Archives: Women’s Fiction / Historical Fiction / Romance

It’s All About Love Virtual Book Tour

It's All About Love banner
It's All About Love cover
 Women’s Fiction / Historical Fiction / Romance
Date Published: 11-10-2026

 

good reads button

 San Francisco, 1967. The Summer of Love promises radical freedom—but for
twenty-year-old Juliette, it becomes a dangerous trap.
Desperate
to escape her conventional family, Juliette shocks her parents by announcing
her engagement to David, a long-haired free spirit. When her father,
Tristan—a famous novelist harboring a tragic past—vehemently
forbids the union, Juliette acts on impulse. In the dead of night, she climbs
out her window and flees with David to the counterculture epicenter of
Haight-Ashbury.
But beneath the cloud of incense and rock ‘n’
roll, independence carries a steep price. As David drifts into a haze of drugs
and broken promises, Juliette’s bohemian dream shatters. Back home, her
flight reopens old wounds. Her fiercely protective mother, Lorna, must help
Tristan confront the shadows of his past as they desperately try to pull their
daughter back from the edge before it’s too late.

 

It’s
All About Love is a poignant coming-of-age story about the fragile line
between rebellion and destruction and the enduring, messy grace of family.

 

 

It's All About Love standing book

EXCERPT

My sandaled feet pounded against the dewy grass while sprinting towards the tent, and my long skirt whipped around my legs. Shell’s panicked voice echoed in my mind. 

“David overdosed. He’s in Eddie’s tent.” 

These were the very words I dreaded ever since David started taking drugs. All the times I’d pleaded with him to stop, or to at least be careful, drifted through my mind. How many times had I begged him, yet he’d insisted it was no big deal? How many times had I told him it was dangerous, yet he’d only laughed in my face? How many times had I asked him to think how it affected me, yet he’d only brushed me off, saying I worried too much?

But surrounded by everyone here all summer long, the pressure never went away. How could David simply refuse LSD when it was passed around like candy? The most recent time was a week ago.

“David, c’mon, enough already,” I’d said, tugging on his sleeve.

He laughed, kissing me, already tripping. “Aw, babe, there you go again, worrying too much. You sound like your folks you complain so much about.”

I stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest. The coolness of the evening settled over me, but the chill that went through me had nothing to do with the temperature. “Not cool.”

Eddie chose that moment to come traipsing through the small crowd nearby. He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around David. “Hey, brother. How’s it goin’?”

“Life’s grand, man. Just grand. Wanna sing about it?”

“Sure, got my guitar with me. What sounds good?”

David plopped down on the grass. “Let’s do some Airplane. Can’t say we’ll sound good, but…”

Eddie joined him and began strumming the strings. “Nah, we sound great, man! We oughta start our own band, step up on stage with the Dead!” 

They chanted some off-key lyrics, and I strained to listen. Part of me wanted to walk away, but concern for my guy won out. Yeah, part of me thought about singing along, forgetting that David was tripping, but as the song unfolded, so did the awful truth.

“What d’you think, Jules?” David asked, grinning up at me. “Maybe you could join us. You’ve got a pretty voice.”

I rolled my eyes, trying for some levity. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you sleep it off? Maybe try becoming the next great hit tomorrow.” I knelt beside him, placing a hand on his forearm.

David stared at me, but his eyes weren’t focused. He seemed to see past me. I imagined him saying something he thought was profound, like he saw beyond the physical or something, that he glimpsed my love for him in that everlasting moment. It was almost romantic. Lulled into a fleeting sense of calm, I leaned in as he drew closer. Our lips almost crashed, but then he pulled back, laughing.

“Gotcha!” He pulled out another tab from his pocket, and before I could protest, he popped another bit of acid into his waiting and ready mouth.

I stood, glaring. “David, what the hell?”

Eddie joined David’s laughter. “Looks like your old lady’s none too happy.”

Tempted to shove both of them, I shook my head. “And where’s your old lady, Eddie? Does Shell know you’re as gone as he is?” I pointed at David.

Eddie snorted. “Sweetie, Shell’s probably as ‘gone’ as I am, only she’s with her friends, knowing how to have a good time. Maybe you should join them and lighten up a little, huh?”

“Yeah, sounds like a great idea.” I sulked off, not really sure where I was going. I certainly wouldn’t seek out Shell, especially if she was tripping like her man. 

Raucous laughter, off-beat tunes, and the haze of cigarette and pot smoke filled the air as I meandered through the camp. As the sun set, it cast an orange, almost sickly hue over tents and trees. I wondered if my folks were watching the sunset from their back porch at home, then realized it’d already be dark there. The three-hour time difference was something I often forgot.

What else did I often forget?

Who else did I often forget?

Afraid to answer those questions, I returned to our tent, ready to forget the day. That much I knew. As I approached our living area, however, Eddie’s laughter turned brittle.

“Hey, man, you okay?” he said. A pause. “Dave, buddy, speak to me.”

I strained to hear David’s reply over the murmurs and guitars on my left. I increased my pace until David and Eddie came into view. Eddie was kneeling over my fiancé, who was sprawled out on the grass.

I rushed to David’s side, my knees crashing into the soft, damp earth. “What happened?” I glanced from my guy’s handsome face to Eddie, feeling the glare on my face.

“I dunno, man. We were just havin’ a good time, singin’ stuff, and then he-he just…”

I waved him away. “You’re useless. Get the hell away.”

If Eddie said anything, I wouldn’t have heard it. David lay there, eyes on the sky, and his mouth moved rapidly. As I knelt beside him, I strained to hear what he was saying over the surrounding noise. Gripping the front of David’s shirt, I leaned down until our faces were inches apart. His eyes finally met mine, but they only locked with my gaze momentarily before they started wandering aimlessly once again.

“David, please, can you hear me?” I begged. Tear stung my eyes, and his face blurred before me.

I placed my ear right over his mouth. “Jules…”

“Yes?”

He chuckled. “Oh, Jules, man… You should see this!”

“See what?” I sat upright and glanced around. Eddie was nowhere in sight. All I saw were tents and people lazing around, nothing unusual.

David tried to sit up as he clutched at my sleeve. “Oh, babe, what’s the matter? You’re missin’ the greatest hits ever. I’m famous!”

I furrowed my brow. “I think you need to sleep this off. Come on, let’s get you in the tent.” I tried to help him stand, but his knees buckled, and he fell to the grass in a fit of laughter.

“Oh, Jules! Jules…don’t ya hear it? The music?”

He continued to mumble mostly incoherent nonsense. I didn’t know what he was experiencing; he never told me. Later, when I asked him about it, he said he didn’t remember. Instead, he’d spent the next hour lying outside, switching between laughing and crying, until he finally fell asleep. With embarrassment heating my face, I’d asked some nearby people to help move him into our tent.

I couldn’t shake that night, and now his life hung in the balance. 

I rushed past groups of barefoot hippies sitting in lazy circles while they passed joints and strummed guitars. A pang of resentment flared. How dare they be oblivious to David’s suffering, getting high, when that was exactly the reason for him being where he was now. 

I struggled to keep my gaze focused, let alone my mind. Why did we come here?! Why had we stayed this long? Didn’t I expect something like this to happen? Each breath came with great effort until my lungs burned as Eddie’s tent came into view. I spotted his lanky silhouette pacing erratically. 

His worried eyes met mine.  “Juliette…” he choked out. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault…”

I shoved past him. “Yeah, about time you took responsibility for something.” Rushing into the tent, I didn’t wait for his reply. The interior’s earthy smell swamped my senses before my eyes settled on David’s lifeless form sprawled out on a pile of blankets. His eyes were closed. Even in the low light, I could tell his skin had a sickly pallor. 

Heart thudding in my head, I collapsed to my knees and grabbed his sweaty hand. 

“David!” I cried, tears spilling over. “Please wake up!”

His head lolled to the side. Fear overtook me as I cupped that precious face between my hands and rested my forehead to his. My tears dropped onto his clammy, hot skin, each a plea for him to open his eyes, kiss me, joke, and tell me I was worrying about nothing. 

“David, please… You c-can’t leave me… We came here together. We’re supposed to be together.”

Nothing.

A movement to my left got my attention, and I turned as Eddie entered. Guilt was etched on every part of his face. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“How is he? Is he gonna be okay?” Eddie asked.

Jabbing a finger at him, I screamed, “This is your fault! You got him hooked on that poison!” 

Eddie stumbled back, nearly tripping over his feet, and his face twisted in anguish. “I know, I know,” he muttered. “I never should’ve… I-I mean…” 

“You’re worthless,” I replied, turning back to David. “He should’ve never hung out with you.”

Shell hovered nervously next to Eddie. “Hey, Jules…”

“Don’t you dare ‘Jules’ me! You’re no better than him.” I gestured toward Eddie. “If you two are good for anything, go get the medics.”

Holding up her hands in surrender, Shell nodded quickly. “Yeah, sure. Anything you need.” She scurried off.

Kneeling over David again, I patted his cheek. “C’mon, David. Please…wake up. Open your eyes, babe. Say something, anything!” I choked back a sob.

Behind me, Eddie paced, which only put me further on edge.

“Stop that or get out of here,” I demanded. “Make yourself useful, at least!” 

“S-sorry. Hey, maybe if I play him some music…” he rambled. “Yeah, that’s it! Music will bring him back. It’s the balm that heals all souls.”

“It’s more than his soul that needs healing, you idiot!” 

He grabbed his beloved instrument and smashed it to the ground with a guttural yell. I jumped in shock at his reaction, watching as he collapsed to his knees, gripping his curls as sobs escaped his wide-open mouth. He looked like a phantom wailing in the night. 

I recovered from the shock and turned back to David, not giving Eddie another thought. “David, can you hear me? Help’s on the way. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

But it was a promise I couldn’t make. David’s face was slack. His body lay like a limp ragdoll, strewn aside like a piece of junk. 

About the Author

 

Cynthia Hilston
Bestselling and award-winning author of the Lorna
& Tristan Series, Cynthia Hilston is a stay-at-home mom of three young
kids, happily married, and lives in the Cleveland, Ohio, area. Writing has
always been like another child to her. After twenty years of waltzing in the
world of fan fiction, she has stepped away to do her debut dance with original
works of fiction, although she still dabbles in fan fiction.
In her spare
time–what spare time?–she devours books, pets her kitties, looks
at the stars, drinks wine or coffee with good friends, and dreams of what
other stories she wishes to tell.
Contact Links
TikTok: @cynthiahilston
Youtube:
@cyndihilston
Purchase Link

Amazon

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Leave a Comment

Filed under BOOKS

It’s All About Love Teaser

It's All About Love banner
It's All About Love cover
 Women’s Fiction / Historical Fiction / Romance
Date Published: 11-10-2026

 

good reads button

 San Francisco, 1967. The Summer of Love promises radical freedom—but for
twenty-year-old Juliette, it becomes a dangerous trap.
Desperate
to escape her conventional family, Juliette shocks her parents by announcing
her engagement to David, a long-haired free spirit. When her father,
Tristan—a famous novelist harboring a tragic past—vehemently
forbids the union, Juliette acts on impulse. In the dead of night, she climbs
out her window and flees with David to the counterculture epicenter of
Haight-Ashbury.
But beneath the cloud of incense and rock ‘n’
roll, independence carries a steep price. As David drifts into a haze of drugs
and broken promises, Juliette’s bohemian dream shatters. Back home, her
flight reopens old wounds. Her fiercely protective mother, Lorna, must help
Tristan confront the shadows of his past as they desperately try to pull their
daughter back from the edge before it’s too late.

 

It’s
All About Love is a poignant coming-of-age story about the fragile line
between rebellion and destruction and the enduring, messy grace of family.

 

 

Excerpt

“I’m getting married!” Juliette burst through the door,
holding her ring finger up for the world to see. Well, for my dear husband of
twenty-two years and me to see.

Said dear husband rose from his chair with such gusto that the poor chair
clattered to the floor, victim of his temper. “What?!”

The humid June air clung to the back of my
neck as I stood. Pushing my graying hair out of my eyes, I took a step toward
my husband and placed a hand on his upper arm. I recognized the fear that
flashed beneath his anger. I’d seen that look far too many times lately
as she missed her curfew night after night all summer long.
“Tristan, dear, just…calm down, okay?” I cast a pleading glance
between him and our daughter. I could see the words on the edge of his tongue.
Don’t follow in my footsteps. His own impulsive marriage led to a
tragedy that impacted both our lives. I knew the thought of Juliette repeating
his mistakes kept him awake at night.

“Calm down?” Tristan tossed his hands up; then his arms
flopped to his thin torso’s sides.

“Your heart,” I said, stepping in front of him.
“Please.”
He
released a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan, then righted his chair
and sat. “So, who’s the lucky guy?” he shot at Juliette.
“Don’t tell me it’s that long-haired hippie.”
It
wasn’t just the hair. David’s casual attitude toward drugs reminded
Tristan too much of his own dance with addiction, though he’d never admit that
to her.
Juliette stood just
inside the open door. Only the screen separated her from darting outside and
the darkness swallowing her for another late night. Another night without a
curfew. Another night we hoped we could trust her judgment. Another night our
little girl proved she wasn’t so little anymore.

She crossed her arms over her chest and sent her
dad a glare worthy of one of his own. Her blue eyes held the same spark that
challenged, much like Tristan’s eyes. “Seriously, Dad? Like you
should talk.” She gestured toward his messy, longish hair.

“That’s not the point,”
Tristan said, teeth clenched. “You can’t just go running off with
the first guy who puts a ring on your finger. If he had any decency,
he’d have asked us first.”

Juliette closed the door and scoffed. “It’s 1967,
Daddio.” She popped her gum as she leaned against the table. “I
don’t need your permission.”

“Like hell you don’t.” Tristan stood, the
menacing tone creeping back into his voice.

I came between them. “Okay, both of you…
Can’t we talk about this?”

Juliette shifted her gaze to me. “Mom, please. Can’t you
make Dad see reason?”
I
held back a sigh and lifted my hand. About to place it on her shoulder, I
resisted and let my arm drop. “Juliette, this isn’t a good idea.
David isn’t—”

“Isn’t what, Mom?” A tremor ran through her voice. She
blinked rapidly, then stepped away. She headed for the door to the dining and
living rooms, stopping before she exited. “Why can’t you just be
happy for me for once?” Her footsteps banged through the house and up
the stairs. A slam of her bedroom door and I knew it would be unwise to knock
anytime the rest of the night.
 

About the Author

 

Cynthia Hilston
Bestselling and award-winning author of the Lorna
& Tristan Series, Cynthia Hilston is a stay-at-home mom of three young
kids, happily married, and lives in the Cleveland, Ohio, area. Writing has
always been like another child to her. After twenty years of waltzing in the
world of fan fiction, she has stepped away to do her debut dance with original
works of fiction, although she still dabbles in fan fiction.
In her spare
time–what spare time?–she devours books, pets her kitties, looks
at the stars, drinks wine or coffee with good friends, and dreams of what
other stories she wishes to tell.
Contact Links
TikTok: @cynthiahilston
Youtube:
@cyndihilston
Preorder Link

Amazon

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on It’s All About Love Teaser

Filed under BOOKS