#ComingSoon #UnderneathItAll #KathrynRBiel

 

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ONE WEEK TO GO!

That's right! Just one week until Underneath It All, the third installment in The UnBRCAble Women Series, releases! If you're a Kindle reader, you can pre-order today for only 99¢! If you're a paperback reader, you can ORDER today and start reading as soon as Amazon Prime can get it to you! That's right--by going low tech, you can be reading before the actual release date! Here's an excerpt: Perfect. I turn this way and that, searching the reflection in the mirror for hidden flaws. Something that jumps out and screams, "This is all wrong!" But I can't find anything. This dress is perfect for me. It doesn't hurt that I've had barely anything to eat all week besides grapefruit and black coffee. My head has been pounding as a result, but it doesn't matter. The sacrifice is worth it to look this good. Also, I may be wearing two pairs of Spanx underneath the dress. Large Marge my ass. I want all the haters to see that you could bounce a quarter off that ass. It doesn't matter that those haters were from elementary school. It doesn't matter that I haven't been overweight since I was eleven. It doesn't matter that I can't breathe. Mike walks into our large closet. Damn. I wanted to be totally put together and finished before he saw me. I like doing the big reveal, like something out of a movie. Since he picked this dress out for me, I wanted everything to be … well, perfect … when he first saw me in it. And now it's ruined. "Mike! I'm not ready yet. You can't see me until I'm finished." I try to push him out of our spacious closet. He barely looks at me, which I must admit stings a bit. Am I disappointing in this dress? Did he think it would look better than it does? Why won't he stop and admire me like I so want him to? Need him to. "Relax, Marg. It's not our wedding. You look fine. Stop stressing about it. Frankly, I wish we could skip it all together. I barely know the bloke." Mike laughs a bit, mocking the groom's British accent and colloquialisms. "But I know the bride. We're friends." He's carefully combing through his extensive selection of ties, looking for just the right one. He glances back at my dress once, twice, three times. It'd be easier to give him the hex code so he can match exactly. I think he'd prefer that. It would make his precision so much quicker. This is why we are so well suited to each other. I understand his need to have everything just so, and I've spent almost twenty years making it that way for him. He doesn't even have to ask most of the time; I know what he wants before he does. I step closer, and he begins holding ties to my hip. He's narrowed it down to two. "I think you should go with this one," I offer, pointing to the gray one with small red accents. The gray will look better with his black pinstripe suit and crisp white shirt. Mike glances up at the ceiling. "The light's terrible in here. We need better light bulbs. No more of this LED crap. I want real light." I make a mental note to try to find old-school incandescent light bulbs somewhere. I think I remember reading that they're illegal now, but someone's got to have them, right? It's critical to have proper lighting for color selection. He puts a hand on my hip and pushes me out to the bedroom. He holds a blue and red paisley tie against my dress. It looks like something out of the wardrobe department from a 1980s teen flick, and Mike is cast as "yuppie male number one." After an agonizing five minutes, he's settled on the gray tie, and I can go back to getting ready. I had my hair done this morning, nails and waxing done yesterday. I've probably done more preparation than the bridal party. That's the thing though. With each passing year, it takes longer and longer to look this put together. Gone are the days when I could roll out of bed and look like a natural beauty. Gone, also, are the days when I could wear a dress without scaffolding underneath it. Pretty soon, makeup and Spanx won't be able to combat the toll my forty-five years on this Earth have taken on my body. Even I know more drastic measures lie in my future. At least I've already got a great plastic surgeon. I glance down at my ample cleavage, threatening to spill out of the plunging neckline of my dress. Dr. Chung did a great job with my implants. God, I hate them. As appearance focused as I know I can be, I'd never have had implants done if I didn't have to. But I did. Once you hear the news that you have a genetic mutation that has already caused you to develop breast cancer, the decision is pretty straightforward. Not to mention Mike was all in favor of the reconstruction after my double mastectomy. I went larger than I'd been before. Nursing two babies had done a number on my boobs, and I'm sure I'd have been considering a lift at least, if the cancer hadn't intervened. And if it weren't for my genetic predisposition to cancer, I wouldn't know anyone at this wedding. It'd be another one of those events that I endured for the sake of Mike and his business and his career. He makes good money in insurance and financial planning, but it's not like he's saving anyone's life or anything. Though to listen to him talk shop, you might think otherwise. This wedding will be so much better than one of his regular work events. One of his staff members, Sterling Kane, is marrying a woman I know from my UnBRCAble support group. Millie is one of the nicest people I've ever met, so I'm happy that she's getting her fairy tale and all. It's what every girl wants, right? Growing up in a family as dysfunctional as mine, I know it's what I always wanted. And I have it too. I used to lock myself in my room and dream of a life without bullying. Without taunting. Without screaming. I used to dream of what I have right now. ABOUT KATHRYN   Telling stories of resilient women, Kathryn R. Biel hails from Upstate New York where her most important role is being mom and wife to an incredibly understanding family who don't mind fetching coffee and living in a dusty house. In addition to being Chief Home Officer and Director of Child Development of the Biel household, she works as a school-based physical therapist. She attended Boston University and received her Doctorate in Physical Therapy from The Sage Colleges. After years of writing countless letters of medical necessity for wheelchairs, finding increasingly creative ways to encourage insurance companies to fund her client's needs, and writing entertaining annual Christmas letters, she decided to take a shot at writing the kind of book she likes to read: those with humor, heart, and happy endings. Kathryn is the author of multiple contemporary women's fiction, romantic comedy, and romance novels, including the award-winning Live for This, Made for Me, and Paradise by the Dashboard Light.  https://www.kathrynrbiel.com/ https://m.facebook.com/kathrynrbiel/