M.O. Kenyan's Blog, page 22

5 Prince Publishing Cover Reveal Wilhelmina Stolen

Cover Reveal

For

Sullivan’s Way

Wilhelmina Stolen

 

Genre: Fiction/Romance/Historical

Release Date: January 9, 2014

Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-93-6   ISBN 10: 1-939217-93-8

Print ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-94-3     ISBN 10: 1-939217-94-6

 

A single day shattered her life and set in motion, events that would change the Sullivan family for generations.

 

Marnie Joe Sullivan had the perfect life as the daughter of a wealthy Virginia businessman, but perfection wouldn’t last. As the War Between the States ends, she is struggling to keep her family together. After a botched robbery, fleeing rebels leave her mother dead and Marnie at the mercy of a killer. The year is 1867 and Virginia is still home to Confederate conspirators and a killer that must be stopped. Loyalty and love run deep in the Sullivan family and Marnie is no exception. As the eldest Sullivan, she feels obligated to rescue her father from the hangman’s noose. But a jailbreak at midnight lands her in the arms of Marshal Mason Kane.

Death is never fair. Mason Kane is proof of that. The horror of war and the death of his brother made him a drunk. Consumed by guilt and grief, he finds himself occupying Richmond saloons and starting fights. But a forgotten promise to his brother forces him to put down the bottle and accept a friend’s plea for help. Mason has no idea that the scrawny, mud covered boy he just hit is Sullivan’s daughter and he has no idea just how tempting she is until he tries to mend her wounds. Bound by honor and promise, Mason sets out to find a killer. What he finds is the outlaw Marnie Sullivan. A woman he can’t live without and secrets that lie in the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

COVER REVEAL RED TEARS BLUE BLOOD

 

RED TEARS BLUE BLOOD  contemporary, romance novel. Being published by Secret Cravings with the cover art done by Dawne Dominique check out her page (Ps this is the first draft but am excited to show it off)

The question “How did it happen?” is asked twice at the beginning of the story. This is what sets the story off as Christoffer and Alma have to reconcile themselves with the tragedy that just happened in their lives.

“How did it happen?” In Christoffer’s story the question is asked towards the end of his introduction. Christoffer is the third child to the King and Queen and Denmark. This position in life gave him no responsibilities and no expectations. He was young, wild and free of obligations and he decided to live his life that way. Christoffer had managed to escape his mother’s ball and went to a night club. But his big brother, the Crown Prince decided to pick him up and save him from another reckless night. While they drove home they got into an accident that killed Lauritz and left Christoffer as the Crown Prince. His sister and the rightful heir to the throne had made sure that the burden did not fall on her shoulders by signing her rights away. Now Christoffer has to become the responsible man his brother was, while he tried to live with the guilt of his brother’s death.

Alma is a 21 year old student in Kenya. She is young and care free and in love. Her world seems to evolve around her boyfriend Kevin. Her story kicks off with them leaving the movies to go back to Kevin’s place. They had been dating for a while and decide that it is finally time to make their relationship physical. This is the first time for both of them, so in their nervous rush Kevin decided on taking a short cut through an alley. Bad idea. There in the depths of the darkness lay in wait a danger and fate that none of them expected. Their night of romance was invaded by men who wanted to rape Alma. But Kevin manages to save Alma and bares the punishment for his heroics. Their assailants decide to part Kevin with his head. The second time the question “How did it happen?” is when Alma is at Kevin’s funeral trying to make sense of his brutal murder.

Christoffer decides to escape the prying eyes by going to a university in the states. While Alma’s mother decided to send the trouble girl away after her suicide attempt. They meet in the campus pub when Alma’s elder brother introduces the two of them. Christoffer immediately learns why Alma’s brother, Austen, insists on walking Alma to her dorm whenever it got dark. The girl is afraid of her own shadow. Christoffer finds himself playing the protector role one night and Alma’s terrors go into new heights. Convinced that a group of sorority girls are out to kill her Alma runs to her room and arms herself with a butcher knife.

Soon the role of body guard is usurped and Christoffer cannot find a reason to stay away from Alma. He decides on asking her out on a date, ignoring Austen’s warnings about dating his baby sister and Jacky’s (Alma’s roommate) warning of Alma being emotionally wrecked and not one who could handle a relationship. Their evening of pizza and wine turns into a session of soul bearing on Alma’s part. Christoffer learns of her story and his gratitude to the fallen hero unfathomable. He quickly discovers that he is falling desperately in love with Alma. He decides not to tell her his true identity, afraid that it would scare her off more than it would appeal to her. They spent the night together in each others arms, doing nothing but crying and talking.

Alma finally feels comfortable with herself, and once the guilt of replacing Kevin fades away she is ready to admit her true feelings to Christoffer. But she doesn’t get a chance. Christoffer begins to leave the country occasionally attending to his ‘father’s company business’. Alma doesn’t ask for more information than is offered. She found out that the best part of him going away was his return. One night Alma finally decides she is ready to take the plunge. Her first time had always been planned to be with Kevin, but she has to convince herself that Kevin wouldn’t mind and besides he was dead but Christoffer wasn’t.

After they make love Christoffer finds his going away harder and harder each time. He feels like a love sick teenage girl, obsessed with the need to have Alma next to him, or having her text him during state business meetings and calling her just to hear her voice no matter what time it was. He decides a romantic getaway was in order. He was going to whisk her away to one of the kingdoms islands. The plan was just for the two of them but Austen and Jacky invite themselves and Christoffer decides that this would be the best time for Alma to meet his sister Alisa.

Alisa knows of his father’s plan to remove Christoffer from the throne and have her take over in his stead. The King looking towards the future has arranged for Alisa to meet a British Duke that he deemed suitable to be her husband. Alisa goes into the meeting her mind set not to like the man, but she couldn’t help herself. Besides being devilishly handsome, Edward is smart and is unwilling to marry her. Alisa sees it fit to put the man’s profession as a judge into good use on her part. She plots a scheme depending on her younger brother’s reputation of being reckless. They get to the island and Alisa meets Alma, she was everything that she wanted for her younger brother. Seeing Christoffer truly happy makes the decision to push forward with her plans easier, plus Alma’s pregnancy scare was an added bonus. Alisa marries the two without their knowledge and has Edward officiate it.

Christoffer and Alma go back to school still in their love bubble. But Britta, Lauritz (the first born son) ex girlfriend arrives in the scene. Her ambition to be queen has her pleading and begging for Christoffer’s attention. But when Britta realizes that an African girl holds Christoffer’s heart she sets out to ruin the relationship. She informs the King of Christoffer’s relationship and its irregularities and his father acts immediately. The King gives Christoffer an ultimatum, he either both returns home and marries a BLUE BLOOD or Alma and her family would be deported. Christoffer does the honorable thing and breaks up with Alma. He does his duties as the next king to perfection running around like a robot with no pleasant word for his father and worse ones for Britta.

Alisa is devastated by her brother’s new life, devoid of happiness. But when she gets a call from a tabloid publisher she knows that things would turn in their favor. She gives Christoffer a picture that showed that Alma was pregnant and immediately he leaves to be by his loves side. But it isn’t that easy. Alma doesn’t want anything to do with him. Christoffer now has to fight for his love and fight his father for his acceptance. A huge decision weighs down on his head; he would have to make a decision between the crown and his family.

The truth about his clandestine marriage to Alma comes out and Christoffer decides that his new family needed him more. But his father has one last trick up his sleeve. He kidnaps the new born baby and forces Christoffer to commit to annulling the sham marriage and marrying Britta. Left with no choice he agrees. He couldn’t live with himself knowing that Alma is being kept away from her son; he knew she wouldn’t forgive him. Alma is sneaked into Denmark without the Kings connections being notified. When she finally storms the palace she meets Christoffer and the King striking up their deal, and when the question is posed to her, Alma chooses her baby. But then a problem arises, everyone knows Alma is Christoffer’s wife and their first son was born into marriage and this automatically makes him the next King after his father. Although Alma is in denial, Christoffer sees this as his trump card over his father; he could have his cake and eat it too.

But then Britta comes up with solution for that. She poisons the little baby and shoots Alma. Grief stricken Christoffer sits vigil at his wife’s bed and on occasion goes to the NICU to check on his son. He feels guilty for being greedy, more than anything he wanted the three of them together and now he was on the verge of loosing them. But the attempted murder on both his child and wife seems to be a blessing in disguise. Parliament and his father give their approval to their marriage and recognize their son as the true heir. But with the goodness Christoffer still has to wait to see if he still had a family to celebrate in.

Alma finally regains consciousness. She wakes up to a life of a mother, a wife and a princess. Alma and Christoffer’s lives get the story book ending, as they both lived happily ever after

It's Re-Release Day + Cover Reveal

Reblogged from Moriah Densley:

I'm delighted to announce the "re-release" of my debut historical, Song for Sophia, Book 1 in the Rougemont Series. Wilhelm and Sophia feel like old friends, so it's great to have their story back up.

To celebrate, I'd like to share one of my favorite excerpts. I especially enjoy the midpoint of a love story, where the characters feel for each other, but the time isn't right to say so.

Read more… 662 more words

5 Prince Publishing Cover Reveal by Erica M Szabo

Cover Reveal

For

Destiny Altered

Erika M Szabo

 

 

Release Date: December 12, 2013

Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-87-5  ISBN 10: 1-939217-87-3

Print ISBN 13:978-1-939217-88-2  ISBN 10: 1-939217-88-1

 

A woman who embraces her birthright, uncovers secrets and alters her destiny

 

 

Destiny Altered, book three of Ilona the Hun trilogy.

In book one and two of Ilona the Hun trilogy, Ilona is an emergency room doctor, born into an ancient Hun tribe which still exists hidden amongst us with its strict and fiercely enforced rules. She discovers growing magical abilities within her that are beyond her wildest dreams. She can use her given gifts for absolute good or absolute evil. She made her choice.

The readers said,

“Brilliantly sets the stage for a fantasy saga about complex characters, relationships, love, secret society and ancient traditions.”

“I found Ilona to be tough, smart, and entertaining. Szabo manages to create the complete woman”

In the third book of the trilogy, Ilona unveils the hidden secrets and finds out who is trying to alter her destiny in order to gain full power. With the help of her adopted family, her true love and her ancestors, Ilona grows into a woman she was meant to be. The future of the Huns and the happiness of her family depend on her decisions, but the weight of this tremendous responsibility makes her stronger instead of breaking her as her enemy hoped. Could she change her destiny? Will she succeed in saving the future? Will she find the happiness she’s been longing for?

 

5 Prince Publishing New Release by Christine Steendam

Press Release Launch Kit

For

Unforgiving Plains

Christine Steendam

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com

Genre: Fiction/Romance/Contemporary/Western

Release Date: October 24, 2013

Digital ISBN 13:978-1-99217-67-7  ISBN 10: 1-939217-67-9

Print ISBN 13:978-1-939217-68-4  ISBN 10: 1-939217-68-7

Purchase link : www.5princebooks.com/buy.html

 

Unforgiving Plains:

Rayna Fields is a successful realtor in Calgary, but when she receives a visit from a lawyer, her whole life is turned upside down.

 

She hasn’t seen or heard from her father in twenty years. Not since her mother packed her and their belongings in a truck and drove off Fieldstone Ranch. Now, she has to make her way to Foremost, Alberta, the “wild west” of Canada and deal with the dilapidated ranch that was left to her by her estranged father.

 

Struggling with her feelings towards her father who has passed on, a ranch in financial distress, and other problems that crop up along the way, Rayna turns to the one person willing to help; Vince, the hired hand. But will his past destroy everything she’s worked towards? And will she be able to forgive, and find beauty in Alberta’s wild plains?

 

Christine has been writing stories since she could put pen to paper and form words. Now, fifteen years later, her debut novel is scheduled to be released and her second book is in the works.

Christine has spent the better half of her life owning and working with horses, and these four legged companions often find their way into her stories. After all, no work of women’s fiction would be complete without a horse or two.

She currently makes her home in the center of the world—no, really. Look at an atlas

 

 

www.chrissteen.wordpress.com

www.facebook.com/authorchristine.s

www.twitter.com/chrissteen1991

kcsteendam@gmail.com

 

Excerpt of Unforgiving Plains:

Rayna reached for the radio dial and turned up the music as her car flew down Red Coat Trail at 110 km per hour. She had left the mountains far behind her, and the road spanning in front had the slow rise and fall of hills that spoke of their own special majesty. To anyone else driving through Alberta, they might have been struck by the beauty, but it was lost on Rayna. Her mind was far away, preoccupied with thoughts that didn’t involve sight-seeing.

Slowing down just enough to make a turn, she directed her car onto a gravel road. Consulting the written directions on her passenger seat, Rayna saw that it was a straight shot to the ranch from here. Just a few more miles and her long journey would be over, It didn’t bring her any relief.

Driving down the gravel road brought with it no memories. Rayna didn’t really know what to expect, but she had thought there would be more than this nothingness, not even the slightest hint of sentiment or twinge of recognition. Nothing here looked familiar, and yet, this had been her home for the first five years of her life.

News of her father’s death, if he could really be called that, had come last week in the form of legal documents. Craig Fields had died at the young age of 52 from a heart attack. “Worked himself to death most likely,” was what Carol, her mother, had said. Regardless, he had left everything to Rayna, his daughter, whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in twenty years. It had been a shock for her. Carol had just nodded and encouraged her with a slight smile. He was trying to do right by her, her mother had offered. Great time to start, thought Rayna, bitterly, as she continued driving down the gravel road that seemed to stretch on forever.

Rayna never knew what had happened between her parents. There was no love lost between them; that was certain. Her mother hadn’t wasted a single tear upon hearing of her ex-husband’s death. And Rayna followed her example; having lived her life without a father, she felt no loss. It might as well have been a stranger that had died for all the emotion she felt.

Now she found herself driving unfamiliar gravel roads near Foremost Alberta. She cringed as gravel pinged off her car, likely peppering the paint with little chips. A cloud of dust followed her, wafting over the rolling hills. She had driven through farmland, but now, as she entered the plains, she was in ranching territory. Wild prairie grass swayed in the light breeze and the occasional antelope bounding across the coulees lent the area an exotic air that could not be ignored. She hadn’t seen much of this in the province she had grown up in. She was more familiar with the busy city of Calgary and the untamed mountains of Banff and Canmore. She suspected the Alberta plains held their own form of wildness.

Twenty years ago she had left, her mother loading her and their belongings in the truck and driving away. They never once looked back. Her mother, Carol, had always said that the people that lived here were a special breed: hard working and secluded. It wasn’t unheard of to be snowed in or to have roads washed out and be stranded on a farm or ranch for weeks at a time. But they were happy, content with life. Watching the passing scenery Rayna wondered if it had been the land that her mother had run from in all its beauty and hidden trials.

Rayna slowed her car down at the sight of a weather beaten sign swaying on its arch. The words Fieldstone Ranch could barely be made out. “I hope that’s not an indication of the shape the rest of the place is in,” she mumbled under her breath.

Fenced in pasture bordered the driveway that had no visible end, but after cresting a couple coulees the house could be seen on the next ridge. Horses grazed at the bottom of a valley and a wide, lazy stream flowed through the middle.

Despite the gravel dust cloud that chased her, Rayna couldn’t help but feel awe over the beauty of her father’s property.

Pulling into the yard, it became apparent that the sign at the entrance to the ranch was an accurate warning to the shape of the rest of the property. The paint on the white clapboard house was peeling and she could see where the sunbaked shingles were peeling back. The barn wasn’t in any better shape; boards were loose and falling off and the door hung at an angle, attesting to the fact it wouldn’t close. Any beauty she had thought she had seen was gone. Now all she saw was a rundown home that held very little worth. And to top it all off, it was now her problem.

Rayna parked the car and stepped out. The air was crisp and clean here despite the early summer heat, and the chirping birds made relaxing background music. The sound of her car door slamming announced her arrival, and a dog ran out from behind the barn, barking and jumping.

“Down!” shouted Rayna, moving away from the dirty animal’s bounding paws.

The dog seemed to comply and left her alone but followed close to her feet as if to supervise while she walked across the yard. Gravel crunched beneath her heels as she walked towards the house, and not for the first time, she wished she had worn more comfortable shoes, but she had come straight from work and hadn’t thought to change.

She hesitantly opened the door. It squealed loudly in protest on rusty hinges and made Rayna shiver despite the warm weather. Stepping in, she looked around. The house was in good repair inside, but it was messy. Dust could be seen floating in the sunbeams, layering the windowsills and every other unused surface. Dirty dishes filled the kitchen sink and mail lay strewn across the kitchen table. Rustic oak floors had muddy paw and boot prints and various food spills. It was a typical bachelor’s residence.

Rayna wandered around the small house, trailing her hand across surfaces, picking up dust on her fingertips. She tried to remember something about this place that had once been her home, anything, but she might have well been walking these floors for the first time.

Opening doors, she peered into two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom. It would take a lot of repairs and a little seller’s flare. Something like, “a quaint country home with lots of character.” It sounded nice, but basically meant it was a dump.

Rayna walked back to the kitchen and put a kettle of water on the stove to boil. She’d need to look around a bit more, get a feel for the place, but she needed a break first. Searching through the cupboards she managed to find a clean mug and some dusty tea bags with no label.

Mystery tea, lovely, she thought, a wry smile lighting her face in an attempt to stay positive. At least the sparse cupboards meant she wouldn’t have to pack up much.

The kettle whistled, sounding like a sick, dying bird.

Pouring the boiling water over her mystery tea bag, Rayna took her mug and sat at the kitchen table. Who was this man who had abandoned her? And why had he left all his earthly possessions to her? Perhaps it was out of guilt, or there really was no one else to give it to. She knew nothing of her father; he could have been a hermit for all she knew. A small part of her had thought that he might have re-married and had more kids which was why he had stayed out of her life, but all the evidence said otherwise.

“What are you doing here?” boomed a voice from behind her.

Rayna jolted, rudely ripped from her thoughts, surprised that someone else was here. The sudden movement caused her to tip over her mug, spilling hot tea all over her lap. She jumped up, shrieking in surprise and pain, trying to brush the burning liquid off with no success.

As suddenly as the burning sensation had begun it was gone and replaced with the cold wet of water. Rayna stood still, in shock, water dripping from her shirt and skirt. She looked up at the man who seemed to have lost all anger and now wore a concerned look on his face.  An empty bowl hung uselessly from his hand. Recovering from her shock, Rayna glared at the man. “What is your problem?” she shouted. “Sneaking up on me and then throwing water all over me?”

The man grinned and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”

“Who are you and what are you doing here? This is my property.”

“So you’re the daughter.” Understanding lit his eyes. Pulling off an old, weather beaten leather glove, he extended his hand. Rayna gingerly accepted it, feeling his firm grip and rough skin chafe against her own.

“The name is Vince. I’m the hired hand.”

“Rayna. I suppose I should thank you for sticking around and keeping things in order for me.”

Vince smiled and Rayna knew the bitterness in her voice had not gone unnoticed. “I’m not looking for any thanks, just doing my job. How about you get something dry on and I give you a tour of your new place? And I’d put on some more comfortable shoes if I were you.”

Rayna grimaced, she had come here to see the place, but she didn’t really want to go with this cowboy. “I left all my things at my hotel in town. I had no intention of staying here,” she said, looking for an excuse.

“Well then, perhaps we can rustle something up, if you’re interested in the tour, that is.”

He just wasn’t letting it go. Couldn’t he take a hint? “How about I come back tomorrow morning? I’m a bit tired from the drive up.”

“Fair enough.”

Rayna forced a smile, glad he had let it go, and walked past Vince and out the door. He turned to follow her, jogging past to open the car door. Great, a gentleman. Just what she needed.

Crouching in, she fastened her seat belt and looked up at the dirty man leaning on the door of her Audi.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Vince nodded and stood up. “Drive safe,” he said as he shut the door.

Rayna whipped her car around, eager to be gone from the ranch and all the questions that came with it. She’d be more than happy to sell the place and be done with it, forever erasing her father from her life.

Arriving back in the town of Foremost a half hour later, she parked her car outside the small motel and retreated to her room.

It was clean, that much could be said, but other than that it was a cheap motel room and nothing more. Rayna wasn’t exactly thrilled about staying here for the week or two it would take to set her father’s affairs in order, but in a small town like Foremost, there weren’t exactly a lot of options.

Changing out of her damp clothes, she jumped into the shower to wash off the layer of gravel dust that seemed to suck all the moisture from her skin.

It wasn’t late, but Rayna was exhausted. She had worked all morning and part of the afternoon before making the four hour drive out here. But, as much as she wanted to fall into bed, she needed to find something to eat. The hotel had a small bar attached and feeling inclined to stay close to home, Rayna decided it was a good enough option.

Slipping on some clean, dry clothes, she walked around the outside of the building to the front where she entered the dimly lit bar.

It was a lot fuller than she expected for seven or so in the evening, but there was likely no better place to go once the day’s work was done. Her short drive through town certainly hadn’t shown any evidence of anything better.

Finding a seat in a far booth in an attempt to avoid human contact, Rayna waited for a server to appear.

A bubbly blonde with a swaying ponytail came over. She handed Rayna a menu with a broad smile.

“Will anyone be joining you?” she asked.

Rayna shook her head. “It’s just me.”

“Well then, can I get you something to drink?”

Rayna perused the drink menu for a moment. “I’ll have a glass of the chardonnay and a chicken burger.”

“Sure thing. Fries or Caesar on the side?”

“Caesar.”

“I’ll be right out with that then.”

The waitress walked away, Rayna watching her as she stopped and greeted a table full of boys, likely friends of hers.

Rayna sighed and wished the waitress had offered her water to start. Anything to quench her dry throat. There was no moisture here. Everything felt dusty. Even her skin was starting to feel too small for her body, only adding to her feelings of discomfort, and she’d only been in the ass end of Alberta for a few hours.

It took a good ten minutes to get her wine and the waitress promised again that she’d be right out with her food. Rayna smiled and nodded, but didn’t put much faith in the waitress’ promise. In her experience bar food was never fast.

By the time her burger came, Rayna had finished her wine and just about used up her last drop of patience. She hated this little town more and more with every passing minute. Already it felt like she had been here two hours too long.

“Anything else I can get you?”

Rayna was tempted to get another glass of wine but the thought of delaying her acquaintance with the motel bed had her shaking her head. “No thanks.”

Finishing off her burger and grudgingly admitting to herself that it was actually quite good, she settled her bill and headed back to her room.

Rayna lay in bed, attempting to drift off to sleep, but despite her exhaustion, she was plagued with thoughts of her father’s ranch. How would she stage it? What could she ask for it? She had no real idea what ranches were worth or what the market was for them. And what would she do with the cattle? Did she sell them with the property? Horses? So many questions, some of which she hoped Vince could answer. But that was tomorrow, and tonight the only answer she needed was the one to her prayer for sleep.

 

5 Prince Publishing New Release by Sara Barnard

Press Release Launch Kit

For

A Heart Broken

By

Sara Barnard

            

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com

Genre: Fiction/Historical/Romance

Release Date: January 11, 2013

Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-24-0

Print ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-25-7

Purchase link : www.5princebooks.com/buy.htm

 

A Heart Broken

How much grief can a heart bear before being tested to the ultimate limit?  The War is over, Charlotte and Sanderson are reunited, and life is good … until the Army comes knocking.  They have charged Sanderson with the murder of his former captor, the despicable Lieutenant Lantz who swore to kill him and Jackson. After a make-believe trial, Sanderson is sentenced to “hang by the neck until dead” – unless he can track down and kill the notorious outlaw William Quantrill with the help of SGT Jerry Thomas, who still may be in love with Charlotte.  While Sanderson is on his blood mission, Charlotte miscarries the baby he wasn’t even aware existed.  In addition to battling her grief over the loss of their unborn baby, Charlotte must also battle a rash of hydrophobia that threatens the countryside –Sanderson included.

Bio for Sara Barnard:

Sara Barnard, author of the historical fiction series, An Everlasting Heart, has been reading children’s books her whole life. First, she read then as a child then she read them to her four beautiful children! Sara has her Bachelor’s degree in history, has had her work included in numerous anthologies, and has written several other books to date. Sara and her family make their home in the historic hills of Oklahoma along with their three dogs, three cats, and eight chickens.

 

Author Contact Info:

www.sarabarnardbooks.com is Sara’s website

sarathreesuns.blogspot.com is where she occasionally blogs about life as a Mommy of four and wife to a Drill Sergeant.

@TheSaraBarnard on Twitter

www.facebook.com/sara.barnard6 on Facebook

sarathreesuns@gmail.com

 

Excerpt from A Heart Broken:

“Don’t die till we get to have some fun, girl.” Samuel’s whiskey-ruined voice was hot in Charlotte’s ear. Somewhere behind her, Dean’s maniacal laughter pulsated with cruelty. The Bowie knife grew closer to her face, but with her arms lashed behind her, Charlotte could only watch in helpless terror as the promise of death drew nearer.

“Sanderson!” she screamed, just before the icy blade met the skin of her neck.

“I’m here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Sanderson murmured into her hair. His arm, muscled and tanned, tightened around her middle. His voice was thick with sleep. “Was it that dream again?”

She sat up and traced the knife scar at the base of her neck. The air was crisp in their loft and a rash of goose bumps immediately cropped up on her exposed skin. “It was one of them. The knife one. I always wake up before they kill me, but I swear,” Charlotte shook her head to clear the nightmare from her mind, “it gets scarier every time.”

“They’ll get worse before they get better.” Sanderson propped himself up on an elbow and ran his hand down her thigh before continuing, “Mine are pretty bad right now, too. But when I wake up and look at you, I know I’m home.”

She returned his mischievous smile.

“We’ve been through a lot these past few years. Figure it’ll take our brains a little while to catch up with our bodies. The bad dreams are just our way of getting there, as I see it.” He twined his fingers through hers. “You know how I know that I’m really home?” He tugged her down close.

“How’s that?”

“I can do this.” With his free hand, he cupped the side of her face. That familiar spark blazed to life within her chest before their lips met. She closed her eyes. Softly, his kiss found her cheek, then her lips. Trembling, she let herself be taken over by her husband’s sensual caress.

“Wait, what about Minerva? Won’t she hear us?” Charlotte’s eyes were still closed. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if they’d been right to offer Minerva and baby Jay Jay their extra room. Certainly, having an empty house in moments such as these would be optimal. She pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come. Minerva was her sister-in-law, and she couldn’t imagine everyday life without tiny Jay Jay. After all, she had brought him into the world and only Aunt Charlotte could calm him down deep in those colicky nights.

Sanderson’s breath was warm in her ear, “They went out early this morning.”

Satisfied that they were alone and talk time was over, Charlotte met Sanderson’s kiss with passionate ferocity. His skin, roughened by time spent in Alton Confederate Prison, glided against hers naturally, like water over smooth river pebbles.

Finally, my love is home. I’m complete as long as he is near.

The front door squeaked open, and Minerva’s voice wafted upstairs. “Jay Jay, such a fussy boy today. Come, I’ll feed you in our room.”

Quietly, Sanderson tucked the rose-patterned quilt up over their heads as Charlotte stifled a giggle. “We were alone,” she mouthed.

He kissed the tip of her nose.

Minerva’s door clunked shut, and baby Jay Jay’s threatening whimpers ceased a moment later.

Charlotte flung back the covers. “Maybe we can continue this tonight?”

“As you wish, Mrs. Redding.”

A pounding at the door tore their gazes from each other.

“Who in the world would come calling this early in the morning?” Charlotte wondered aloud.

“I’ll get it,” Sanderson called, pulling on his britches. His voice echoed in their quaint, stone cottage.

“I’m closer,” Minerva answered. “Jay Jay is too tired to sleep.” She clomped across the floor with the infant nestled in the crook of her arm.

Charlotte peered over the edge of the loft. “Good morning, Minerva. Is Jay Jay ready for his Aunt Charlotte?”

“Si, he is.” Minerva smiled and rested her hand on the doorknob. “We picked some carrots this morning. Let’s make a stew tonight.” She hefted the door open.

An unfamiliar voice boomed, “Captain Sanderson Redding!”

Sanderson froze, his shirt only half buttoned. The cold fingers of fear squeezed Charlotte’s stomach until bile rose into her throat.

“Um, ah, um,” Minerva stammered. Jay Jay began to wail again.

Charlotte dashed to the window. “Soldiers! They’re everywhere Sanderson!” She whirled, eyes wide. “Can we make it to the cave underneath Sunshine Rock where I hid from the Yankees?”

He inched to the wall and peeked out the window. Reaching out to Charlotte, he pulled her close. “There’s no way. They’re even in the trees. Every rifle out there is trained on our house, just waiting for me to make a run for it.”

“We know he’s in there, so cough him up before we come in and search the place!”

Sanderson started toward the ladder.

“No! Please, we have to try!” Hysteria was threatening to overwhelm Charlotte to such an extent that she didn’t feel like herself at all. “Please!”

“I have to turn myself in, for all our sakes. We don’t know who pointed them our way, or even why they’re here.” He began to climb down, so Charlotte started after him. She grasped the rungs and rested her head against them. Her stomach lurched and her knees threatened to give way.

Sanderson plucked her from the ladder. She clasped his hand, and they stepped to the door together. Minerva moved behind them, the baby whimpering in her arms. Their eyes met for a moment.

“Captain Sanderson Redding?” An Army officer in blue stepped forward, a scroll in his hands.

“Good morning, gentlemen. How can I help you?” Sanderson’s voice was cool and ever polite, but his grip tightened on her hand. Charlotte tried to count the soldiers, but more kept appearing from the woods.

“Captain Redding, on behalf of the United States of America, I hereby charge you with the murder of Lieutenant Robbinson Lantz.” Sanderson’s eyes widened. “Also got a list of other lesser crimes, but they don’t really matter since you gonna hang for murder anyway.”

 

5 Prince Publishing New Release by Lisa J Hobman

Press Release Launch Kit

For

Through the Glass

Lisa J Hobman

 

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com

Genre: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary

Release Date: August 30, 2013

Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-52-3 ISBN 10:1-939217-52-0

Print ISBN 13:978-1-939217-51-6 ISBN 10:1-939217-51-2

Purchase link : www.5princebooks.com/buy.html

 

Through the Glass

It was love at first sight for Jim.  Felicity was his dream girl.  Beautiful, intelligent and talented.  Sadly for Jim he didn’t quite meet with the approval of Felicity’s mother and eventually she succumbed to the pressure of her mother’s expectations.  Jim relocates from London to the Scottish Highlands to try to rebuild his life and mend his broken heart when an unexpected visitor brings painful memories and tragic news.  Jim has to fight with his own desires to make the right decision.  He lost Felicity once.  Can he survive losing her again?

 

About Lisa J Hobman

Lisa is a happily married Mum of one with two crazy dogs.  She especially enjoys being creative; has worked as a singer and now runs her own little craft business where she makes hanging signs and decorations for the home. Lisa and her family recently relocated from Yorkshire, England to their beloved Scotland; a place of happy holidays and memories for them.

Writing has always been something Lisa has enjoyed, although in the past it has centered on poetry and song lyrics.  The story in her debut novel has been building in her mind for a long while but until the relocation, she never had the time to put it down in black and white; working full time as a High School Science Learning Mentor and studying swallowed up any spare time she had.  Making the move north of the border has given Lisa the opportunity to spread her wings and fulfill her dream.  Writing is now a deep passion and she has enjoyed every minute of working towards being published. Novels two and three are works in progress so watch this space!

 

 

How to contact Lisa J Hobman

https://www.facebook.com/#!/LisaJHobmanAuthor

http://glipho.com/livingscottishd

http://livingthescottishdream.wordpress.com/

https://twitter.com/LivingScottishD

 

EXCERPT :

Chapter 1

February 2009 – The break up

“So, that’s it then, Flick?” Jim raised his arms in exasperation. “You’re leaving? You’ve completely given up?” He was past trying to convince Flick that they could make a go of it; work things out; get through this and come out the other side stronger. The past few months had been one argument after another and Flick had spent less and less time at home.

“It’s for the best, James. And please don’t call me Flick.” She sighed, “It’s not my name. Not anymore. I grew up. It’s good in the adult world you should visit sometime, you might like it.” She snorted derisively.

Jim shook his head; sadness oozing from every pore, “Aye, well you’ll always be Flick to me. And I’ll always be Jim. What’s with all this ‘Felicity and James’ bollocks anyway?” His accent always became stronger when he was angry. This was one of those occasions when the true Scotsman came out fighting. His chest heaved as he tried to calm the storm raging beneath his skin.

He almost didn’t recognise the woman standing before him in their bedroom; her fitted designer clothes complete with pearls and a shoulder length smooth sleek hairstyle. Such a contrast to the girl he fell in love with. Back then it was all flowing blonde waves and long, floating skirts. She was softer then; in every way.

“Well, as I said James, Felicity is my name…Flick was left behind at university. She was doe-eyed, foolish and rash…look, there’s no point us going over old ground,” she pulled the handle up on her wheeled suitcase, “I’ll be staying with Polly and Matt for a while whilst I figure out my next move.”

Matt had once been Jim’s closest friend but that friendship had somehow fizzled as his relationship with Polly had intensified. That saddened Jim.

Felicity went on, “Nilsson-Perkins have offered to help find me a new place near the city centre so I can be closer to the main gallery.” She wandered over to him and placed her hand on his arm. “It’s for the best, James. I think you know that deep down.”

He looked, pleadingly, into her eyes, his chest still rising and falling at a rapid rate. “For whom? For me?. I don’t think so.” His voice cracked as he shook his head; he stared intently and for several moments she seemed caught in his eyes. He thought he saw her shield begin to melt but she shook her head and looked away.

Turning back to him she shrugged her shoulders. “It was inevitable when you think about it. We’re from two different worlds…we want completely different things, James.” Her voice softened as she squeezed his arm. Her blue eyes, however, that were once full of love, were ice cold.

She wheeled her case toward the bedroom door and turned back to face him one last time. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears now and Jim was relieved to see some, albeit small, expression of human emotion from the woman he had witnessed, slowly, becoming some kind of hard, Siberian robot.

“For what’s it’s worth…James…I do love you. You were my first love and so I probably always will. I just feel like…” she paused, clenching her eyes closed as if to find the strength to carry on speaking, a tear escaped. “Like maybe we’re not good for each other. We’ve grown apart. I’m ambitious and you…you want babies and the white picket fence thing…I’m just not ready…I’m not sure I ever will be. In a way I’m doing you a favour.” A sob escaped her throat as she spoke, “This way at least you get to meet someone new and have children anddo all the family things that I’m just not capable of.” She sounded to Jim as though she was trying to convince herself.

Jim’s lower lip began to tremble. “I don’t want anyone else…it’s you. It’s always been you.” He clenched his jaw. “What I don’t get, Felicity, is that you wanted those things too. We were both on the same page. I don’t understand how we changed.”

“We didn’t change. I did. Like I said, I grew up.” She shook her head. “I know that you haven’t changed.” She snorted. “Sorry, Jim but it’s true. In all these years you’ve kept the same hairstyle, the same clothing and the same laid back attitude. You still work in the same second hand book store, you still drive that ancient Land Rover and you still take that bloody dog everywhere you go! You’re not a student anymore, James. Maybe I want more, huh? Maybe I want someone who makes an effort!” Her voice gained an octave as her emotions began to get the better of her.

Jim widened his eyes in horror. “Whoa! Now just hang on there, lassie!” He held up his hands and his stomach knotted at her stabbing words as they sliced at his heart.

He stepped toward her. “You can’t say that I don’t make effort. Just because I’m in no way materialistic doesn’t mean I don’t care. I love you. I always have. You are my world! I don’t need things, Felicity, I need you!” His heart ached as it bombarded theinside of his chest. “I’ve done everything in my power to make you happy. I don’t know what else I could have done. And for the record, I’m not the one who’s given up here!” He raised his voice too, finally giving in to the pent up frustration he’d been harbouring.

“James, we want different things, accept it. Move on…please!” She opened the door and he made a grab for her. She swung around and crashed into his arms. Without thinking he took her face in his hands and kissed her with all the passion he could muster. To his amazement she didn’t slap him; she kissed him back. Dropping her suitcase she seemed overwhelmed by desire, anger, passion, lust, whatever the hell it was; she grabbed at his dark, shaggy hair as he ran his hands through hers; desperate to express his love for her; desperate to make her change her mind.

He moved from her mouth to her neck, his kisses urgent. Her head rolled backward and she moaned, grabbing at his T-shirt and pulling it over his head in one swift aggressive move. Before either could realize what they were doing or how they got there, they staggered backward and tumbled, wrapped around each other, onto the bed; their lips locked as their tongues danced and probed each other’s mouths.

HIS LOVE COVER REVEAL

Reblogged from mokauthor:

hey guys,Kane is a a half spanish no nonsense kind of guy. He has been working all his life to get his father’s approval. Finally things seeemed to be working out for him. He was vice president of his father’s company, a husband and a father to be. But when his wife Maria dies during child birth, he turn into an ogre.

Read more… 440 more words

SOULS AROUND THE WORLD BLOG HOP

THE TRAGEDY OF LOVE

We’ve all had our tragedies in life to deal with,

it is up to us to become a stronger person for it,

and go on,

not dwell in the past that can’t be changed.

Nishan Panwar

Most love songs are about the falling in love and falling out of love process. The emotions that people go through in the process and how love is a crazy thing. I think we all must be insane to let ourselves succumb to it. How does it exist? Where did it come from? And why can’t we see it? I guess the same questions are asked about God. But we have this profound belief that He exists. Even though we can’t see Him, or talk to Him face to face, I believe He is there listening to me and granting me my prayers.

Sure love doesn’t have aphysical form. But its there in the eyes and smiles of our families, in the comforting embrace of our friends and in the thunderous beating of our hearts when we hear the voice of the man or woman we fancy ourselves in love with. Love is a matter of trust. Trusting that in your heart, it exists. The love between a mother and a child, a husband and a wife and the strength we have for each other in the face of tragedy. And in Hope.

My upcoming release focusses on the love between a father and a daughter. Although a parent cannot completely hate his child, HIS LOve is a bout a father who couldn’t bring himslef to love his child because she caused the death of the love of his life. But it’s his child’s love that thaws out the ice surrounding his heart.

Love is a beautiful thing.

STRENGTH IN OUR COLORS

When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways

– either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits,

or by using the challenge to find our inner strength.

Dalai Lama

KENYA has four colors in its flag. Each color is a symbol. The colour black represents the people of the Republic of Kenya, red for the blood shed during the fight for freedom, green for the country’s landscape; the white fimbriation was added later to symbolize peace and honesty. The black, red, and white traditional Maasai shield and two spears symbolize the defense of all the things mentioned above.

Its is obvious to the whole world the tragedy that took place in my home, Nairobi Kenya. Innocent lives were lost, from the innocent unborn child to someone grandfather. As the world watched what was happening to a foreign land, Kenyans lived it. They watched, a prayer on their lips as their family, friends and neighbors were taken from them, turned into numbers, a statistic. We were put on the map yet again as another place where senseless killings took place.

But as we all were held hostage by people who didn’t know the first thing about being Kenyan, we stood together as a nation in strength and in love. For three days we prayed for the strength to see us through, for our futures and our someday. We prayed for our Kenyan pride and were determined to look past the smoke and bullets and deaths to get back on our feet.

I am proud to be Kenyan.

I am proud of my fellow Kenyans.

Our Unity is our strength.