Stay Tuned

By Lauren Clark

For TV producer Melissa Moore, crisis management comes with the job. From employee disputes to her high-maintenance boss, there’s not much she hasn’t seen or can’t handle.
But no one—including Melissa—expects a fistfight during the ten o’clock news. When sexy-but-crazy Alyssa Andrews lands a punch on her co-anchor’s face, Melissa jumps on set to help. She’s determined that WSGA’s reputation won’t be destroyed on her watch.
Both anchors are fired and Melissa agrees to fill in—but not before polishing her look from haircut to heels. While the new Melissa wows WSGA viewers, her personal life starts fraying at the edges. Melissa’s husband is away more than he’s home, leaving cryptic Post-it notes in his wake. Her mother’s antics spiral out of control at the nursing home and a stalker decides Melissa is her next target.
What happens next? Stay Tuned to find out...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lauren Clark
• Release date: Oct 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9780984725014

Lauren Clark

Lauren Clark has been a voracious reader since the age of four and would rather be stranded at the library than on a desert island. In her former life, she worked as an anchor and producer for CBS affiliates in Upstate New York and Alabama. Lauren adores her family, yoga, and flavored coffee. She lives in Birmingham, AL. Visit her at authorlaurenclark.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Alyssa Andrews was missing.

Gone, vanished, MIA with just minutes to airtime.

Melissa, where is she? Our news director, Joe, shot a harried look in my direction. After dealing with a broken studio camera, spotty satellite reception, and last-minute script changes, his nerves were fried to a crisp.

She’ll be here, I promised, knowing my confidence was a front. Alyssa, one of WSGA-TV’s main news anchors, was a constant source of angst in my already-stressful job.

She was young, talented, gorgeous…and chronically late.

This lack of punctuality was a problem, especially when WSGA ran a show at exactly six and ten o’clock every night. Not a moment later.

WSGA was Macon, Georgia’s number one news station and had been for two years running. If we wanted to keep it that way, timing was everything. Every second mattered.

I produced both evening shows, which meant—among a dozen other tasks—organizing the day’s stories, writing copy, and checking video. Each segment had to run seamlessly between three-minute commercial breaks.

Deep breath, Melissa. Send up a little prayer. She’ll show up.

The red numbers on the clock continued to march forward.

Another deep breath. Everything’s in place. Alyssa just needs to walk in and get on set…

Tighten up on camera one. Joe peppered the room with demands. Mic check, now, not yesterday.

Tim Donaldson, Alyssa’s co-anchor, obliged, counting backwards from the number five.

Joe’s thick fingers punched buttons on the massive keyboard in front of him. Bring up the live shot.

Still, no Alyssa.

Joe raked a huge hand through his long gray hair. Five minutes! he growled, with a glare into his empty coffee cup.

At this point, it was Joe’s show to run. He was in charge. I shuffled my scripts. How about I call her?

She’s an adult, he grumbled. You shouldn’t have to.

Joe expected nothing less than perfection. He was experienced, hard working, and a stickler for detail. Alyssa’s nonchalance made him crazy.

Which, at 9:55:36 on a Friday night, gave him the patience of a gnat. On crack.

This was particularly dangerous for an unsuspecting new employee, all of twenty years old and pimple-faced, who crept up behind us.

Joe ignored him at first, barking an order to me instead. Fine, fine. Melissa, tell Princess A. she’s needed in the studio.

On autopilot, I punched her extension, eyes focused on the row of monitors above my head in case she decided to appear.

While the phone rang, the new kid rocked on his heels nervously. I flashed a smile and shook my head gently in his direction, hoping he’d get the hint.

Not now.

Nope. The kid stood there, coughed lightly, and waited for one of us to turn around.

"What?" Joe finally snapped.

The force of the word made the kid’s body jerk back. Jaw open, unable to speak, his face turned crimson.

Joe waited about a second for the kid to talk, and then leaned back over the control panel. He pressed at switches, clearly annoyed. The kid looked sick. Joe rolled his eyes. My anxiety level cranked up ten notches.

9:58:09. Less than two minutes.

Wait…a flash of an ivory suit and blond hair.

There she is, I interrupted the tension with a cool nod toward the monitors.

Front and center, Alyssa sauntered into the studio, lips puckered, blowing her shell-pink nail polish dry. She slid into her seat next to Tim, and gave him a playful pat on the shoulder.

Joe muttered something I couldn’t repeat.

I stifled a loud sigh of relief and glanced around the room. The new guy was the only one in the building unimpressed with Alyssa’s arrival. With a shaking hand, he reached out and tapped Joe’s burly shoulder.

Mr. Joe, there’s a problem with one of the machines—

Joe’s back stiffened. He turned a millimeter in the kid’s direction and exploded. Get your butt back there. Get one of the engineers. Fix it. Call someone.

I caught the now-completely mortified kid’s eye, and motioned for him to come toward me. Grabbing the nearest piece of paper, I jotted down the engineer’s extension and held it at arm’s length with a kind smile. Poor guy. Lots to learn.

With a grateful look, the new kid plucked the scrap from my fingers and darted away.

Time to get started.

I settled in, gripped my pen hard, and looked up.

Okay. Alyssa’s collar was turned under. Minor detail, but sure to garner at least five viewer complaints. You wouldn’t believe what people called in about.

I leaned toward the microphone to let Alyssa know.

Dare you not to tell her, Joe muttered. It wasn’t a secret that the guys would willingly let Alyssa go on air with underwear on her head. She hadn’t made friends. Or tried to.

Tim, her co-anchor and current boyfriend, didn’t count.

Just part of those darn producer duties, Joe. You know that. I flashed him a smile and pressed the button to talk. Alyssa, fix your collar.

Her mouth parted into an O. Alyssa frowned, glanced down, and straightened the pale edge. Just in time.

Like a well-directed movie, the WSGA-TV opening video flashed across monitor one. Macon, Georgia’s skyline filled the screen.

My body tingled with a familiar rush of excitement. It happened every time we went on air. The cameras and lights, the beat of the music, the thrill of live television.

Here we go.

Seconds later, Alyssa and Tim appeared under the lights, their bright anchor smiles pasted on.

"Good evening, I’m Alyssa Andrews.

And I’m Tim Donaldson.

And on it went, without a blip, for the first ten minutes. I started breathing again after the third break.

Stanley and Sunshine, the weather cat, were ready for the five-day forecast, check.

Commercial break, check.

Sports, check. I didn’t worry about that three-minute slot. Plenty to talk about, visual stories; the anchors could get away with jokes and ad-libbing. Viewers loved it.

We rounded out the show with an inspirational kicker about a local scholarship winner, a kid first in his family to go to college. He’d won forty thousand dollars and was going to Georgia Tech to study astrophysics.

The show wrapped with a standard goodnight, credits, and a wide shot of the WSGA set.

The second the master control operator switched to break, Alyssa flounced off the set in silicone fashion. She barked into her jewel-encrusted cell phone about her min-pin puppy’s cancelled spa appointment and stomped out of the studio, teetering precariously in four-inch heels.

Yikes!

I climbed the flight of stairs back to the newsroom, relieved the night was almost over.

The phones started to ring five seconds later.

Chapter 2

It’s Drew and it’s urgent, Tim yelled, gesturing for everyone to crowd around him. Now, folks!

On cue, our enormous newsroom copier whirred to life, cranking out faxed press releases. Over the scanner, a police dispatcher announced codes and locations. I cranked down the volume and hit pause on the document feeder.

Above the din, Tim shouted for everyone to quiet down.

By then, most of the staff had wandered over, waiting for the announcement. I glanced around the room for Alyssa, who apparently wasn’t coming back. No big surprise. Less drama was okay by me.

Tim held a finger to his lips and punched speakerphone. The gravelly voice of our news director crackled through the connection. "You know, only something huge would drag me away from bikinis and Rum punch."

Yeah, right, Tim cut in. You’ve had Fox News on the whole time, boss.

Drew’s guffaw shook through the newsroom. "Man, at least I’ve got a view of the beach while I’m watching 60 Minutes and the BBC."

The newsroom staff broke into laughter.

So, Drew continued, waiting until the noise died down, Not that any of you want to go home on a Friday night, but I felt compelled to interrupt all the fun and excitement. He cleared his throat. Congratulations are in order from the Scripps Howard Foundation. The Broadcast/Cable Journalism Excellence in Electronic Media—bear with me while I read this—honors the best investigative or in-depth reporting of events covered by television and radio stations or cable systems.

Whoops and clapping erupted around the room.

Tim’s series, the one I’d written and produced on children with ADHD, was up for a national award. So was Alyssa’s piece on the city’s only drive-by shooting last year.

My knees buckled the slightest bit. I didn’t dare look at anyone.

Drew’s voice burst into the room with flourish. This year’s award goes to Tim Donaldson with Melissa Moore producing. Congratulations!

Behind me, several corks popped and hit the ceiling. Everyone hugged, backslapped, and celebrated. Someone handed me champagne in a plastic tumbler and shouted out a toast. To Donaldson and Moore!

Cheers echoed as everyone raised cups and ceremoniously tossed back the alcohol. The drink burned my throat and bubbled up my nose.

The room tilted some and my thoughts swarmed like a tornado sweeping up everything in its path. Scripps Howard. National award. Wow. When I found my bearings, I wove through the crowd toward Tim.

You knew, I accused him, as he strolled up beside me with a bemused expression, a bottle of Korbel tucked under his arm. I backed away and narrowed my hazel eyes in mock-indignation.

What? Tim circled my neck with his hand and gave my ponytail a tug.

And you, I poked his bicep, if I had to guess, sent Alyssa on that wild goose chase about her dog tonight.

Maybe, he winked and refilled my cup to the brim.

I have to hand it to you. That was smart, very smart. We pretended to clink our drinks together and sipped in unison.

Tim and Alyssa’s volatile relationship was legendary, not just in the newsroom, but in the larger community. It was a co-dependent, on-again, off-again mess, the best I could tell.

Professionally, I did everything necessary to make them look good on set and during public appearances. On a personal level, their relationship was their own business.

Tim squinted down at me as he topped off his own drink. I can’t reveal my sources. He winked, breathed alcohol in my face, then turned to gulp from the mouth of the champagne bottle. But no one needed Alyssa freaking out in her usual Lindsay Lohan fashion. He burped.

Um, nice manners, Donaldson. I gave him another friendly jab and pushed him away. Someone help him! I called out.

Tim grinned wickedly as he finished off the last drops, wiped his mouth with the back of his shirtsleeve, and stumbled off.

My shoulders sagged. I was exhausted.

Joe sidled up. Obligatory congratulations from one of your soon-to-be totally inebriated partners in crime?

Come on, Tim can be sweet, I retorted in a loud whisper. He’s harmless, really. You know, he gets a bad rap. Guilt by association with the girlfriend, maybe.

Mrs. Jekyll and Miss Hyde?

The immediate mental picture of Alyssa as a pseudo-mad scientist made me stifle a laugh. No comment. I snapped my jaw shut guiltily. I was genuinely pleased for Tim. No sense being ugly.

Well, it’s great news, Joe added. I’m happy for you. And Donaldson.

I gave him a nudge. I’m lucky to work with such wonderful, talented folks behind the scenes.

Joe grinned at the compliment.

I needed to thank about ten other people, but as I glanced around the newsroom, most of the staff had already disappeared. I picked up a random plastic cup and tossed it in the trash.

Need help cleaning up? Joe asked.

Nope, go home to your wife and kids, I shooed him away. I’m not staying long.

Well, don’t revel too much in your new-found fortune and fame. We’ll need you for the next round. Joe turned, grabbed his jacket, and waved.

I grinned. Same bat time, same bat channel.

As Joe made his way down the hallway, Tim stumbled back in.

You still here? he asked, wiping his forehead.

Of course, Mr. Journalistic Excellence, I quipped, then stopped when I saw his face.

Not feeling so hot, Tim scrunched up his shoulders and slumped against the wall. He was an insulin-dependant diabetic and notoriously awful about his medicine. I’d run to the pharmacy more than once to grab his prescription refills.

Hey, how’s your blood sugar?

He grumbled something incoherent.

Tim, I took him by the arm and sat him down at his desk. One by one, I opened the drawers. Where’s your glucose meter?

I shuffled through packs of gum, breath mints, and a box of paper clips. Under a stack of paper, I unearthed a monitor and insulin pen.

The finger stick took seconds. Sure enough, his blood sugar was high. The screen read 400.

Okay. Let’s get your medicine, I shoved the pen into his hand, then crouched down to steady him.

Not now, he argued, slurring his words.

Please do this. I don’t want to call an ambulance, I said. Where’s Alyssa? Where’s your cell phone?

I d-don’t know.

He lifted the edge of his shirt and pressed the pen to his abdomen. Tim grinned like a drunken Cheshire cat, showing off two rows of gleaming white teeth.

You’re a mess, Donaldson.

I was exhausted. I wanted to go home. And I didn’t have a choice. He needed help.

Come on, I’ll drive you, big guy, I said.

Tim slung an arm over my shoulders and let me guide him down the steps. He half-fell into my car, managed to strap himself in, and proceeded to sing most of the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack on the way to his house. He finished a rousing version of Music of the Night as we pulled up.

Alyssa was waiting outside on the steps. Where have you been? she asked him, ignoring me.

Tim hummed Masquerade while he found his keys. Alyssa pouted while he lumbered past her and flipped on the lights. She shut the door without a thank you. The fighting started almost immediately. Home Sweet Home.

Minutes later, I pulled into my own driveway. A lone yellow Post-it waited for me on the kitchen table.

Working late—C.

Chapter 3

The Post-it wasn’t a surprise.

My husband worked late every night. More than once this past year, my husband had slept at the office. He kept an extra shirt, suit, and tie in his car just in case.

Chris was a portfolio manager for Macon Financial, the city’s largest investment firm. His job was high-pressure and enormously challenging. Fortunately, Chris was brilliant, ultra-organized, and able to multi-task.

Despite the economic downturn, he’d managed to keep clients and, more importantly, his job. In a recent shake-up, one of the senior VPs retired, his boss had moved up, and Chris was now in the running for a big promotion.

Knowing that Macon Financial put a huge emphasis on philanthropy, Chris divulged that his parents had bequeathed a substantial part of their fortune to the local medical center. His boss jumped at the opportunity to marry the corporate philosophy with a huge public relations event.

This morning, the project was unveiled at a press conference. I’d arranged for WSGA to cover the event, but my shift didn’t start for a few hours. I was there for Chris.

When I’d arrived, a throng of people had assembled. Among the sea of heads, programs waved like miniature flags, providing brief respite from the breeze that had all but disappeared.

Chris’s assistant, Elijah Banks, shifted in his seat by the podium. He leaned close to Chris’s shoulder and cupped a hand over his mouth, his dark eyes shifting nervously over the crowd. Reporters from the newspaper, public radio station, and WSGA were standing by.

Sitting from my angle, I could read Elijah’s lips. Time to get started?

Chris didn’t respond. He glanced in my direction. I met his gaze and fretted for him. He had to wait. He wasn’t about to blow off an opportunity for coverage, even if it was my rival station that was late. He had his career to think about. This included helping Macon Financial look benevolent, caring, and generous.

The CBS Survivor show motto came to mind. Outwit. Outlast. Outplay. That was Chris, though he wouldn’t, for any amount of money, spend weeks on a desert island building tribal alliances and eating bugs.

I grinned at the thought. Back when I was a busy college student, no time for a serious boyfriend, his persistence and charm had won me over. Chris simply wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d asked me out, what, a dozen times? Two dozen? I’d lost count by the time I said, ‘yes’ to dinner.

A familiar clack and rumble announced the WXTA truck’s arrival. At the sound, Elijah turned his head. A burst of chatter rippled through the audience. Chris lifted his eyes and focused on the road leading up to the hospital. The news vehicle moved steadily up the pavement. I glanced at my watch. Chris was now ten minutes behind schedule.

The truck rolled to a stop. A pixie of a girl jumped out, dressed in red, microphone and notebook in hand. A tall, skinny man in a tee-shirt and jeans hoisted a camera onto his shoulder.

The breathless reporter, close to tears, apologized profusely to Chris. I was close enough to hear every word. There was an accident, we had to take a detour. I’m really sorry.

Chris stood up and gave the reporter his best, most understanding smile. Let’s get down to business, shall we? he said with a nod. Everyone’s ready.

The girl clipped her microphone on the podium and stepped away, visibly relieved.

Good afternoon, Chris’s voice boomed across the Macon Medical Center campus. Thank you all for coming. And your patience.

Applause rippled through the mass of people before him.

Chris smiled. My parents would have been thrilled to see you all here today. It was their dream to see this portion of the Medical Center come to fruition. He paused, careful to let his eyes fall briefly on each of the hospital’s board members. Several years ago, my father succumbed to cancer after a long and valiant battle. He traveled hours for oncology treatment. He died away from home.

I glanced around. Faces were awash with concern.

Great strides have been made in oncology treatment since my father passed away. These tools are now here at the Medical Center, thanks to my parents’ gift and a matching grant from Macon Financial.

Thunderous applause this time. When the noise died to a reasonable level, Chris continued. What we have here today is nothing short of monumental. State-of-the-art cancer treatment in your own hometown. I give you Macon’s new Premiere Oncology Center.

Chris nodded toward the shiny new building. Board members had assembled alongside the oncologists, Macon Financial’s CEO, and the city’s mayor. With a quick slice of scissors, the thick blue ribbon held across the entryway fluttered apart and fell to the ground.

Chris stepped down from the podium to mingle and shake hands. There would be an open house and a reception later.

I couldn’t imagine how my husband was holding up. His parents had made this incredible donation. They’d sprinkled other charities with smaller gifts. The SPCA, Make-A-Wish Foundation, and Smile Train. All worthy. All deserving.

But Chris, their only son, wasn’t named as a beneficiary.

He’d been left out of the will entirely.

And my husband refused to discuss it.

Chapter 4

The bright light streaming through my window obliterated any last chance of peaceful sleep I intended to get. I rolled over and rubbed at my eyes. I didn’t even have to look at Chris’s side of the bed. I knew he’d been up for hours.

He didn’t need Visine or extra rest. Even on a Saturday.

On strict routine, short blond hair mysteriously in place, Chris bounded out of bed every day at exactly the same time, read the Wall Street Journal cover-to-cover, ate a breakfast bar and motored out the door to exercise or hit the links. Rain or shine. Hell or high water.

He was dedicated. Committed to golf, current events, and his job at Macon Financial. On his exhaustive to-do list, Chris penciled me in precisely twice a month for date nights. One evening was dinner at a little Italian place. Once a month, we did Sunday brunch downtown.

While I loved the time to connect with Chris, in private, I admitted our strict routine could use some serious jazzing up.

Get real, my best friend, Candace, chided me. She was a Dr. Phil devotee, always quoting his show or one of his books. Dr. Phil says that in order to have a healthy marriage, you have to ‘own’ your own relationship, focus on friendship, and accept the risk of vulnerability.

Candace suggested a surprise trip to Vegas or a weekend in the mountains. She brought over stacks of travel magazines, brochures, and photos from her latest adventures as enticement.

Sure, maybe, I’d always say and smile, flipping through the glossy pages.

In truth, I didn’t want to hurt Chris’s feelings. He thrived on schedule and didn’t like surprises or change. Having our daughter leave was a big enough adjustment.

I forced myself out of bed, stretched, opened the window, and let the sunshine pour in. Bathed in warmth and the heady scent of honeysuckle, I gazed out at a cute, young couple pushing their stroller up the street. Heads together, arms intertwined, they laughed and pointed at a chipmunk racing across the yard, chasing a fluttering bird. The couple’s pink-cheeked baby slept, swathed in lilac blankets, oblivious to the chirping and chattering around her.

The sight made me remember the months and days waiting for Kelly to arrive.

At first, I’d thought my pregnancy wasn’t the best timing. I wanted to explore Europe and produce documentaries; I had dreams of hosting my own travel show.

Pregnancy wouldn’t sideline my career, I’d decided. While interning at a news station in Atlanta, a bout of blurred vision concerned me, but I didn’t let on. I ignored my swollen feet and killer headaches. Until, one day, my blood pressure decided to skyrocket.

We’re talking numbers off the chart, according to a nurse who stabbed an IV into my arm several times. After stern looks and substantial tummy prodding by the obstetrician on call,

Reviews for Stay Tuned

[cubsfan3410 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I really enjoyed this book! I got it as a free Kindle download. The story was engrossing and heartwarming. Melissa Moore is an amazing example of 'girl power'.
I'm looking forward to the next book by Ms. Clark.

[brenda3youngerman_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Stay Tuned by Lauren Clark is a refreshing novel that takes a look at the news business. The back cover byline is "What happens when a #1 news team becomes the top story instead of reporting it?" Clark weaves a tale of the news business as she introduces colorful characters, whose lives are just plain messy. Her no nonsense style of writing gets the reader involved in the story from the very beginning. Her descriptive tenedencies draw pictures and scenery as if you were actually watching the six o'clock news, rather than reading about it.I look forward to reading more of her works.

[colleenmbratley · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

'Stay Tuned', authored by Lauren Clark, was a quick read because I wanted to find out what happened. It is one of those fiction stories that you think you know what and who did what, only to find out you were wrong. And so was the main character.It is one of those stories that you know things are put into place to keep you wondering what is really going on. What you think is going on, twists to another direction, so you just have to keep reading to find out the answers.The main character seems like the average person, no super powers, and even has a lack of self esteem. She holds herself in a box, to remain in her comfort zone. What she becomes is not only due to her self development, but circumstances don't allow for anything but certain changes. She is actually slapped into the forefront position where there are few choices. At least few that are good ones.She finds out that not all things are what they seem, and her inability to seek truths before assuming is right in line with her self esteem issue. Her coming to grips with her self worth, and the events that lead her there is interesting, but I didn't find it compelling. She was more subdued when I wanted to see her much more determined, but the story line keeps you reading, wondering if she is going to get her strength and determination now, or what was going to happen first. You can actually feel the character grappling with her desires against her feeling that she is deserving of them. Had the events not transpired, I don't think things would have changed for this character emotionally. She doesn't have much support, since it seemed like she let things slip away, while life kept marching on. Again, the events led her in directions that forced her to make changes to not only better her own life, but those around her as well.This story was interesting but I kept thinking something much bigger was going to happen, and kept reading thinking it was just around the corner. Things did keep happening, and who did what and why is not always what you thought. So what I thought was going to happen, didn't. What did happen was a tame to me, but fit and was needed by the character.Her development throughout the story was with impact from numerous sources. As you wonder what you would do in that situation, you are content and even proud of how she handled it.It is a nice story, and worth the read. You never know, you might see some of yourself there as well.

[mscott1_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

What I enjoyed about this book was the fact that the main character was closer to my age than a lot of protagonists tend to be. I could definitely relate to her life situations, and it was nice to read about a married woman as well.Although the book started off well, I soon lost interest. The plot moved way too slowly, and the storyline wobbled quite a bit. For some reason, I thought started out as a mystery, but it wasn't a mystery. Then it seemed like a romance. Nope, wrong again. It was more of a slice of life story. The problem was that the life wasn't very interesting.I think this book would do really well with certain readers who enjoy slice of life stories with happily-ever-after endings. However, for me, without more of a mystery or a romance, I found it kind of meh.Lauren Clark is a solid writer, but I probably won't be reading any more of her books.

[dpappas_25 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Back in high school I had wanted to be a journalist (and maybe even a reporter) so this book stood out to me. It follows Melissa, a news producer who finds herself filling in as a news anchor. I felt that Melissa was likeable and I loved her friendship with Candace. The only character I had any problem with was Alyssa. I didn't feel like her slide into insanity was believable. I thought the ending was sweet but a little predictable. Overall I thought the book was good and I would recommend it to others.

[donnambr · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Reviewing Stay Tuned was something of a last minute decision. I honestly hadn’t anticipated having time to do it but the more I read about Stay Tuned and Lauren Clark, the more determined I was to make time. I started Stay Tuned this week and picked it up whenever I had a spare moment – and, like with all good novels, very quickly I was making spare moments so I could read. Drinking 10 cups of tea an hour so I could sneak a few pages in while the kettle boiled, overcooking the pasta sauce by ten minutes so I could sneak another chapter or two in, that kind of thing. Well, perhaps not quite so bad but not far off.Stay Tuned has a great central character who at one point is described as ‘a trooper’. We all know the type (and hands up if you are that type): never say no, would rather go without sleep than let someone down, put their own feelings on the backburner to keep everyone else happy. Melissa is a trooper but she’s also a talented anchor, loving wife and devoted mother who is realising that it’s time the people in her life stood up and noticed her. And not in a ‘aww, she’s so reliable and solid’ kind of way. Cue makeover, growth of a serious backbone and an admirable career growth spurt.In the space of a few weeks Melissa takes on her workaholic husband, distant mother, demented ex-colleague and ladykiller coworker and faces up to her problems working hard to stick to the mantra ‘Believe in yourself’. Slowly but surely she begins to realise that other people do believe in her but need her to believe in herself as well.If I had one tiny criticism (well, you know I’m picky), I think the ‘stalker’ scenario in the book could have been drawn out for another few chapters to add a level of tension or intrigue to the book. But is it a dealbreaker? Absolutely not. After all, it isn’t like Melissa and her husband Chris are lacking in drama to cope with!Stay Tuned is an example of a feel good novel at its best. Lauren Clark’s previous experience in the news industry (see her interview and guest post) help make the details in the novel feel very real and very engaging. Melissa is a character who is easy to identify with and the result is you want to see her tackle things head on and succeed. Is it an ‘everything comes good in the end’ type tale? Is that one of the things that makes it a great read? Of course! Sometimes, especially in the dark winter nights, you need a little something with a happy ending you can see coming. Comfortably predictable is a great way to describe Stay Tuned and as such it’s just what the doctor ordered for your cheery and cozy ‘to be read’ pile.

[lauramoore_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Melissa Moore is a producer for the WSGA news station but when the two anchors who are also in an out-of-work relationship have a brawl on the air and are both fired, Melissa comes to the rescue and temporarly fills in as co-anchor, but while she's saving the day at work, her home life is coming apart at the seams. She's worried her unattentive, overworked husband is having an affair, she's worried about the "relationship" with her co-anchor, and memories of the past and not having the second child she had hoped for is coming back to haunt her. I found this Chick-Lit novel to have everything a Chick-Lit novel should have, a witty main character, a disaster or two, a failed/renewed relationship, and lots of fun, quirky moments. I really enjoyed the characters of this story. I feel like Lauren made them not only fun and well-developed, but also very believable. I enjoyed Melissa's best friend Candace and her two precious twin daughters, and although I had my doubts at first really enjoyed Ricks character. The only character I had some issues with was Melissas' husband Chris, who by the end of the novel had redeemed himself tremendisly. I felt like this novel was extremely predictable, and wasn't new or interesting in the respects that I feel like i've read this story before. I pretty much early on pin-pointed how the story would end, It didn't leave any element of suprise, and for that reason I wasn't compelled to keep reading. Don't get me wrong I really enjoyed the story, but just felt it was going to be predictable, and it was. For those who enjoy a fun, light-hearted read I think you'll really enjoy Lauren Clark, I really enjoyed her writing style and would like to see how her next novel compares.

[allizabeth · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Description: For Melissa Moore, TV producer, life and career have always stayed behind the camera; that is, until Alyssa Andrews, disgruntled WSGA news anchor, decides to knock-out her co-anchor during the live 10 o'clock newscast. With no replacements on set, Melissa has a choice: go to commercial indefinitely, or pick up a mic and start reading from the teleprompter herself? Little does she know that her split second decision will not only redeem the night's botched broadcast, but earn her a whole new job title: temporary News Anchor. Unfortunately, Melissa isn't sure about her new-found success. Her husband Chris is never around, always "working" and only communicating through nonspecific post-it notes, and her mother, currently in a nursing home, continues to start trouble -- and fires. On top of that, her new co-anchor is putting on the moves, while a former co-worker becomes her stalker: one that wants her dead. Can Melissa keep her new job, save her marriage, deal with her mother, keep her high ratings, and protect herself from becoming the 10 o'clock news? Stay tuned to find out...Review: When I first picked up this book, I couldn't help but love the cover: bright, cute, and simple, yet, (as I would later figure out), a pretty accurate representation of the text. The book was an attention grabber from start to finish. It was one of those books that made me laugh one minute and sprout nervous goosebumps the next. Melissa is a great character, complex, but written and described in a way that all women can relate to. She's a strong female lead, full of insecurities, but doesn't allow them to dictate her life, and when the pressure is on, she deals with it - not afraid to get help from her friends; Candace in-particular. I found that all the characters, even those second-rung, were well-developed and fun to meet. The dialogue was believable and enjoyable, often the reason for my head-shakes and stifled laughter; there were a couple rough spots, but nothing that impeded the book's steady flow and pace. Being a fan of the news, especially the more general news shows like The Today Show, I have always wondered what it must be like to work behind the scenes, as well as under the pressure and bright lights of the cameras. After reading Stay Tuned I realize that it is fun to think about, but show-biz is not for me; it's crazy, stressful, hectic, and hilarious, but overall, reporting the news is a serious business - one that Melissa Moore knows all to well. Lauren Clark did a wonderful job bringing her TV experience and her talent for writing together to make a book that will satisfy a reader's palette and leave them wanting more. A sequel perhaps?...Rating: On the Run (4/5)*** I received this book from Novel Publicity as part of the Stay Tuned Holiday Blog Tour in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.