Kissing Games of the World

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Release Date: April 18, 2017
Pages: 466
ISBN13: 978-1544070674



Jamie is a free-spirited artist and devoted single mom with a slightly unorthodox living situation. In exchange for free rent, she looks after the grandson of her much older landlord. But when Harris Goddard dies of a heart attack—naked and splayed out in Jamie’s bed—nobody believes her that he and Jamie were just housemates.

With the rumor mill buzzing and two small children to care for, Jamie’s life is further upended with Harris’s handsome son, Nate, a charismatic jetsetting salesman, shows up unannounced at his childhood home to settle the estate and reclaim the five-year-old son he’d left behind after his wife died suddenly.

As Jamie and Nate’s highly guarded worlds collide, these two damaged people have to try to figure out how to raise their children and how to cope in a world of loss and confusion.


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“…engrossing, charming, and often funny exploration of love and relationships…”
– Library Journal, starred review

“…an absolute treat…filled with realistic twists, complex characters and a moving conclusion.”
– Publishers Weekly

“[A]s the seemingly star-crossed lovers navigate their rocky path, with children in tow, they eventually discover their true destination, their true home.”
– Booklist

“A classic romance…It’s been done countless times, but rarely as engagingly as Shelton does it in this novel.”
–Boston Globe

“Shelton’s warm, sentimental love story is told with a tenderness of heart and a nurturing eye.”
– Romantic Times

“Quite wonderful…Like Anne Tyler, Shelton seems to possess a nearly boundless capacity for empathy. She has the ability to make us love her characters for their faults, not in spite of them.”
–Connecticut Post


Chapter 1

Harris Goddard’s life ran out on an ordinary April afternoon, on the very day it seemed all the rest of the planet was pretty much pulsating with spring. An unexpected warm front had blown toward the coast overnight, pushing out the remains of the long, dry Connecticut winter and nudging all the buds into a frantic, hurried bloom, screaming at them, “So get out there already! You’re late!” By 11 a.m., the thermometer on the side of the barn read 86 damp degrees, and Harris, standing on a ladder and scraping the peeling paint off his house, felt as though he had might have missed out on the memo that warned the world had slipped into the third circle of hell.

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