WS's Blog: Chaps & Bustles , page 5

Historical Romance at Its Best!

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LOOK WHAT'S ON SALE!!!Looking to fill your eReader this season? Check out these .99 buys from 5 Prince Publishing!www.5princebooks.com‪#‎ThanksgivingSale‬ ‪#‎CyberMonday‬ ‪#‎BlackFriday‬

Black Friday Weekend Sale!

The Kentuckiana Authors have banded together and dropped our prices for Black Friday!

Most books are .99! 


The sale will run through Cyber Monday. All links here are Amazon, however the author may have listed their books for sale at other platforms, so be sure to check.




Pick up a new read for less than you can usually buy it, and discover a great author today.

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Sullivan's WayIf you've added Sullivan's Way to your "Want to Read" list, grab your copy today! It's only 99¢!


" A wonderful tale of post-Civil War romance and drama, complete with feisty heroine and tortured hero! Ms. Stolen clearly understands how to build motivation into a back-story. She has a rare and deft gift with the use of subtle symbols. This is a talent usually only found in the hands of experienced, bestselling fiction writers. It adds significant depth to a tale and can tie together seemingly separate scenes. "
Grace Burrows

SALE!!!

If you've added Sullivan's Way to your "Want to Read" list, grab your copy today! It's only 99¢! Sullivan 39 s 20Way 7C20527002">AMAZON


 " A wonderful tale of post-Civil War romance and drama, complete with feisty heroine and tortured hero! Ms. Stolen clearly understands how to build motivation into a back-story. She has a rare and deft gift with the use of subtle symbols. This is a talent usually only found in the hands of experienced, bestselling fiction writers. It adds significant depth to a tale and can tie together seemingly separate scenes. "Grace Burrows

New Release_ Lessons from a Two Year Old by Pete Abela

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com 
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary
Release Date: November 6, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-067-1 ISBN 10:1631120670
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-068-8 ISBN 10:1631120689
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links...

Lessons from a Two Year Old 
Johnny, an IT geek, still lives at home with his parents. When his brother and sister-in-law help a sick friend, he gets coerced into babysitting his two year old niece, Zoe, on a weekly basis. Johnny reluctantly takes on the challenge with humourous and often near-disastrous results. Over time, Zoe's independence-seeking and outgoing personality inspires Johnny to try to improve his health, his fashion sense and even his love life. However, after a couple of setbacks, Johnny wonders if it’s worth the effort and retreats to his former habits. Can Zoe show him the way to true love?



About Pete Abela 

Pete heralds from the city of Wollongong, just south of Sydney in the state of New South Wales, Australia, where he lives with his wife and four kids. His love of reading eventually led him to take up writing, a difficult task which presents rewards and challenges in equal measure. Lessons from a Two Year Old is Pete’s third book and follows A Painted Room (2014) and Wings (2012).
When he’s not working, reading, writing or enjoying the company of his family, Pete likes to sneak away for a bit of exercise – either tennis, golf or a refreshing swim. 
You can find more about Pete at his website and blog (http://peteabela.com). The blog contains a number of bad jokes and puns. You have been warned.

http://www.facebook.com/PeteAbela 
Twitter: @PeteAbela
Website: http://www.peteabela.com 
Blog: http://blog.peteabela.com 



Excerpt of Lessons from a Two Year Old 
CHAPTER ONE

Johnny reached out with an unseeing hand, knocking his spectacles off the bedside table and bumping the reading light. He fumbled about, exhaling a sigh of satisfaction when his fingers grasped the vibrating phone. He slid the icon across the screen to answer it, silencing the standard ring-tone.
"H-hullo?" he mumbled in a drowsy tone.
Running his left hand through his tousled dark hair, his eyes remained obstinately closed.
"Hi, Johnny. It's me. Brian. I haven't interrupted anything, have I?"
Johnny opened his eyes and looked across the wide expanse of his king size bed. He lay close to the right hand side. The greater part of the quilt was smooth and undisturbed.
"Just my sleep," replied Johnny. 
“You haven’t spoken to me for months. What’s so important that you have to call me at this time of day?”
"Oh, sorry. We've been up for hours. Zoe came in and woke us up at five thirty."
Johnny shuddered. "Inhumane. What's the time now?"
"It's nine thirty. Did you have a big night?"
Johnny frowned. "You could say that. I was playing World of Warcraft and didn't finish until three thirty."
"No wonder you're sleeping in." Brian paused. "Listen, do you want me to ring back a bit later?"
Johnny pulled himself upright. His eyes wandered over the darkened bedroom. It was a large room. In addition to the king-sized bed, a pine desk in the corner held a computer monitor, keyboard and large speakers. Next to it sat a matching bookcase, full of messily stacked books. The doors to the built-in wardrobe were open, revealing half-opened drawers, overflowing with scrunched up T-shirts and single socks. The floor was cluttered with a backpack and the clothes Johnny had discarded before hopping into bed. He sighed.
"No, it's alright. I'm awake now."
"Good. I was calling to ask you a favor."
"I'm listening."
"You know Amber's friend has cancer?"
"Uh, yeah. I think I remember you mentioning something about that. Chrystal, right?"
"Christine."
"Go on."
"Well, Amber has been trying to support her, but it's difficult with Zoe always under her feet. We were talking about it last night, and we came up with an idea about how we can help."
Brian paused. Johnny waited silently for him to continue.
"We thought we could go over to her place for a few hours every weekend. Amber can spend some time with her; just talking, or if she's up to it, go for a walk or catch a movie."
"That sounds nice."
"Since she lives on her own and has been so sick with the chemo, she hasn't been able to do any work around the house. The grass is long, the gardens are full of weeds and the place is looking rather dishevelled. We also thought I could go over when Amber does and spend the time fixing up her place."
Johnny nodded. "That’s thoughtful. I'm sure Christine will be grateful."
"There's only one problem."
"What's that?"
"Zoe. I can't supervise her if I'm doing yard work, and if she's with Amber, it'll defeat the purpose of spending some quality one on one time with her."
Johnny frowned. "And you're telling me this because?"
"We thought you could look after Zoe."
Johnny laughed. "Me? Look after Zoe? Are you nuts? I wouldn't know the first thing about looking after a kid."
"It's not hard. Now she's two, she's so much more independent."
"What about Mum?"
"She plays her tennis competition on Sunday. Zoe has a sleep every afternoon, so if we do it at that time of day, you might not have to do anything at all. She often sleeps for a couple of hours."
Johnny threw the quilt off and scratched his crotch. "Don't you have any other friends who can do this?"
"We did consider them, but most have activities on the weekend." Brian coughed. "You're the only one we could think of who is always free."
"I'm not always free," protested Johnny. "It wasn't long ago I caught up with my high school friends."
"About four months ago," Brian corrected. "I remember because you were late getting to Amber's birthday."
Johnny scratched his head again. "Are you sure there's no one else."
"Quite sure."
"And are you sure you want me, your little brother Johnny - the one you said doesn't have a single paternal instinct - to look after your precious first born?"
"We think it'll be good for Zoe to get to know her uncle."
Johnny threw himself back on the pillow. "If you need to do this, and if there's no one else, then, I guess -"
"Great, Johnny. Thanks very much."
The sound of a screaming child came down the phone. "Listen, I've got to go now. Zoe needs me.  We'll see you after lunch. Say, one o'clock?"
Before Johnny could reply, Brian spoke again.
"Great. See you then."
The phone went silent. Johnny threw it onto the bed with a curse. Pulling the sheets over himself, he lay down, closing his eyes.
"What now?" he mumbled to himself, as the sound of a gentle knocking on the door invaded his senses.
"Johnny, dear. Are you awake? I thought I heard you talking."
The door opened a crack, letting a shaft of bright light into the cavernous interior of Johnny's room.
Johnny squinted. "Mum, is that you?"
The door opened wide, flooding the room with light. "Hi, Johnny. I thought I heard your voice. I'm just about to go to tennis."
Johnny's mother, Janice, wore a short blue skirt, a light pink top and a white cap. She was tall and slim, with tanned arms and legs.
"OK, Mum. Have a good time."
Janice lingered. "Were you talking to someone, dear?"
Johnny sat up again. "Just Brian," he mumbled.
"What did he want?"
"He asked me to look after Zoe today."
Janice's face broke into a wide smile. "That's lovely, dear. What did you say?"
"He talked me into it - eventually."
"Good luck. I'll be interested to hear how you go." She backed out of the room with a cheery wave, leaving the door open.
Johnny sighed. There was no way he could get back to sleep now. For one thing, the room was filled with light. The two conversations had also woken him up. He crawled out of bed and hit a button on the computer, bringing the screen to light. He logged onto RedHotPawn, his favorite chess site. He had thirty-seven games in progress, and he quickly scrolled through each of them. He took no more than thirty seconds to analyze each board and make his move, despite the fact that each game was with a different player and at a different stage. By the time he had completed his move on each game, some of his opponents had made their move, so he spent a few more minutes making follow up moves.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he walked down the hall to the kitchen. The sight did nothing to improve his mood. The face staring back at him belonged to a male in his late twenties, with messy black hair and a few days of scraggy growth on his cheeks and chin. The face was supported by a scrawny neck, narrow shoulders, a round belly and skinny legs. He poured a large bowl of Cocoa Pops and took them back to his room.
He ate sitting at his computer desk, his attention focused on the screen as he shoveled large mouthfuls into his mouth. He paid no attention to the drops of milk and individual pieces of cereal dropping onto the desk and floor. When he finished the bowl he burped, then shuffled back down the hall to the kitchen to refill it.
Re-entering the room, he shut his bedroom door, restoring the room to its cave-like state, and hunched down into his chair. He sat almost motionless for a number of hours. The only things moving were his hands dancing from keyboard to mouse and back again, and his eyes, which scanned the screen relentlessly. He had numerous windows open - he played multiple games of chess in one, World of Warcraft in another, chatted to strangers in a third and watched a movie in the fourth.
The phone rang and he turned away from the screen with an annoyed grunt. He looked at the caller ID.
"Hello again, Brian."
"Johnny. Where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago."
Johnny looked at the clock in the bottom corner of the screen. One twenty. He swore. "Sorry, Brian. I lost track of time. I'll be there in ten."

New Release- Christmas Presence by Lisa J Hobman

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com 
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary / Ghost / Paranormal
Release Date: November 6, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-073-2 ISBN 10:1631120735 
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-074-9 ISBN 10:1631120743
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links...

Christmas Presence 
THIS NOVELLA FOLLOWS ON FROM BRIDGE OVER THE ATLANTIC

Mallory got her happily ever after, but haunting loss in the past has her running scared that she will lose her beloved yet again. Can anything...or anyone make her realise she needs to let go of the past and live for today?


About Lisa J Hobman  


Lisa is a happily married mum of one with two crazy dogs and a passion for writing.  After relocating to Scotland from England and writing her first novel she gave up on running a craft business to do what she loves full time and is now putting the finishing touches to books six and seven so watch this space.

@LisaJHobmanAuth
www.facebook.com/LisaJHobmanAuthor
www.lisajhobman.co.uk



Excerpt of Christmas Presence 
Prologue
Mallory stared out at the Atlantic Ocean from her favourite spot on the bridge. The winter sun glistened on the surface of the water, and she squinted as she watched Greg crouch, one hand still on the pram where baby Sylvie sat, to show little Mairi something on the ground. She guessed it was a bug or a pretty stone like usual. He was such a good daddy. Ever keen to show their daughters the simple wonders of the world. Mairi giggled, the joyous sound travelling on the breeze to warm Mallory’s heart. There was nothing else in the world that she needed. Greg and her girls were all the Christmas gifts she could ever wish for.
As if he felt her eyes on him, Greg glanced up and waved to her. His mouth tilted up at one side in that panties-melting way that made her toes curl. She returned his smile. The butterflies took flight inside her as they often did when she looked at him. He never ceased to affect her that way. He really was gorgeous. Raising her hand, she waved back. His shaggy, dark hair was swept back from his face but flopped forward as he leaned toward the ground. His winter jacket hid the bulk of his biceps—one of her favourite parts of his body.
It was yet another uncharacteristically warm December morning, and the view from the bridge was as stunning as ever. She turned her head, and her gaze settled on the pub where so much of her new life now centred, and she smiled again. Home. She was home. Stella waved from the benches where she cleared Ron’s empty glass from the table. From there Malloryturned again and took in the scene over at the shop where Colin and Christine unloaded packages from the trunk of their car, rolls of brightly coloured paper peeking out from several bags. They must’ve been Christmas shopping. She loved these people like family. Since losing her own parents, she had forgotten what it was like to be cared for so deeply, but these people took her in and made her one of them. One of their own. The village of Clachan-Seil and her beloved bridge were so very special to her now that she could not imagine being anywhere else. The proud Scots pine tree in the parking area danced in the breeze, its branches adorned with red, green, and gold ornaments, and Mallory could smell its fresh, Christmassy scent.
When she turned to look back to where Greg and their girls were, the empty pram was standing abandoned.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Suddenly filled with panic, she gasped and set off running to where she’d last seen her husband and children.
“Greg! Greg!” she tried to call out, but her voice was nothing more than a strangled whisper as it left her throat. Her heart pounded and a sheen of sweat broke out on her skin. He must be in the house. It’s fine. He’ll just be in the house. She struggled up the path to their front door, her feet growing heavier with each step. She peered down at her leaden legs, suddenly feeling like she was walking through quicksand. Looking up again, she found the door wide open. Panic rose anew within her. She tried to call out, but there was no reply to her whispered attempts.
After dashing through the cottage and checking every room, she stumbled, sobbing, back toward the bridge and across to the pub. Yanking the door open, she stepped inside to find the place deserted. What the hell? It was like a scene from some scary movie in which everyone had disappeared into thin air. She spun around, searching each dark corner, her heart hammering as if trying to escape the cage of her ribs. Dizziness overtook her, but she clambered forward, stumbling as fabric began to tangle around her legs. Music began to play as if out of nowhere… She thrashed, trying to discover the source of the song, but suddenly felt paralysed. What’s going on? The familiar music got louder and louder…

New Release- On Orders Of The Commandant by Mark Williams

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com 
Genre: FICTION / Historical /Thrillers
Release Date: November 6, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-069-5 ISBN 10:1631120697
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-070-1 ISBN 10:1631120700
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links...

On Orders Of The Commandant 
On Orders Of The Commandant is an historical novel, set inside a 1940's concentration camp in Auschwitz, Poland. 
It is the story of four men who are imprisoned. 
In their afterwards struggle, they deal with several issues-desolation, losing their family and freedom-but more importantly are confronted with the knowledge of a machinated plot intended by an SS First Commandant right under their noses. 
A plan is conceived, after having an underground exit pointed out to them, to escape the concentration camp itself.

About Mark Williams 

Mark Williams spent two years at Washtenaw College of Ann Arbor, Michigan. His interests are writing, reading and music.


https://twitter.com/@Emawms08Mark


Excerpt of On Orders Of The Commandant 
Chapter One

Feb 24th, 1943

Jozef Hansi, a Gypsy, came home from work where he worked as a plumber. He had good news that day as he stepped out from his truck. He readily walked into his ghetto apartment building with a tool chest in one hand and a big wrench in the other. As he got to the steps of his apartment, he even began to dance with the wrench hoisted in the air.
But he quieted down.
Maybe so he could make a quiet entrance in the room and sneak a surprise kiss on his wife, Ceija. Times had been tough, moving into the Ghetto, but things had just begun to start looking clearer with his job and being with his family. The clear sky outside was very appropriate indeed. He sneaked inside only to hear the sound of an explosion...screams. Tiger I heavy tank shrapnel.  A nightmare coming true before his eyes. He could not bear to look in the room down the hallway, but his feet took him there anyhow.
The door had been blown open only to be filled with the shocked looks of neighbors.
A young German soldier rushed in.
Jozef and the others would have to pay for being Gypsies.
One blow to his head and then another and another. A neighbor watched, grief-stricken, the last sight Jozef saw as his vision fades.

*****

Miklos Nakache, a Hungarian, was different from Jozef. He was a career criminal. He had never been caught, but his day was bound to come.
Because of his stressful lifestyle, he drank alcohol regularly and was beginning to dabble in a stimulant, Pervitin. He always wore the same Bomber coat even though it was getting too small for him.
The end of the week had come and it was time for his business to take place.
As the man approached, it wasn't the usual Captain from the Polish Home Army. This buyer he had never seen before-which was to make matters worse. No bond of trust had been formed and as the gunpowder sale went on he looked into the person's eyes the whole five minutes.
Something wasn't right. Sure, the buyer had the zlotys, but he didn't look like he was buying.
The deals were exchanged in a vacant ZOW camp and Miklos walked away safely into the night. Still, the nervousness stayed with him. He went home and spread the zlotys on the table like a child. He also brought out his last capsule of tablets, more toys to add to the collection. He drank and tried to put the night's events behind him, as if that truly kept them from happening. He was still nervous and the more he thought about the recent deal, the more nervous he became. That's when the door burst open and men in Fedoras and leather trench coats filed in. The Gestapo.

*****

Schalek Rumkowski, Polish, deserved to be an inmate. He was the worst kind of criminal.
A rapist. His victims were hurt and scarred for life. He was relentless and unable to control his desires.
His first rape happened as a Nazi-appointed councilman. In the Lodz Ghetto he had raped a Jewish girl from the city. The night was full of beer and pranks. With the voice in his head that cheered him on that night, it allowed him to accept rape. As long as he didn't get caught, as long as nobody told. Soon he had gone out to rape and waited for girls in bushes like a tiger stalking its prey. First one...two...three, and then ten.
By the time his years as councilman ended, he had lost count. He began to get rougher with his victims and one night in the German Peoples Ward, a girl was killed. A police search began. He looked innocent and no one suspected him, but clues at the scene of the crime left him the perpetrator.
Soon all the rapes of women were revealed.

*****

Henri Lebowitz, a Polish Jew, was a mathematical physicist. He knew everything about the usage of numbers. He attended Lwow University and managed to win the prestigious Franklin Medal. Henri often went to sleep on a desk full of books and sleepless nights. He was smart and if there was an easier way he would do it, being the physicist that he was, he would. After that, he won the Max Planck Medal. Pretty impressive.
After a year or two though, his medal went unnoticed.  He had attained an Alma Mater and Professor of Physics position within the University. But after a while, his school room became a plain regular room. The German administrators from upstairs were always putting paper work on his desk. This was worse than his days back in college!
Resentment began to build.
Henri would be made an example of.

*****

As Jozef stepped off Convoy No. 8, he wore a tattered shirt and cheap pants. His wife had been dead for days. How dreadful. He waited in line for the selection process just outside the base camp for the decision and strained to keep the sweat beads from falling down his head. A Kommando had been calmly checking through people's belongings.
Jozef wondered what he would eat for lunch.
“Go right,” ordered an SS-TV guard.
Minutes later, Jozef was in Block 16, scanning it with his eyes. This was it. No turning back.
The Registrar, seated at the edge of a black desk, looked at him as if to say ‘Be prompt’.
Jozef gathered himself.
The Registrar flipped through the paperwork. To him he was probably just another face he had seen a thousand times. The Registrar asked him a couple of questions, as if quizzing him. “According to Kripo paperwork, you lost your temper and assaulted an SS guard.”
“No,” said Jozef. “I never hit him.”
Jozef could only wonder why...Why?
Henri felt out of place when he stepped off Convoy No. 8. He was still wearing a college sweater over a properly fitted white collar. He had had it made. Could his parents find him? Could his girlfriend find him? She had always told him that he was in over his head.
The University, had they made some sort of charges against him?
The train ride over to the concentration camp had been very quiet, and some people had even dropped dead of typhus.
The Nazi’s were a master of diversion.
“This is not a holiday resort, get in line,” said an SS-TV guard as he lumbered inside the camp.
The statement ‘Work Makes One Free’ had been crowned in iron over the gates. Henri read the statement which had been written in German. It seemed so final. His heart began to sink, almost in pain.
As an SS-TV wandered nearby, Henri gave him his final 2 zloty note; the Kommando would have stolen it anyway. An educated fool.
The SS-TV nodded his head, glared at Henri and then ordered him to the right.
Miklos walked off Convoy No. 8, still wearing his bomber coat. The day had come when he was finally caught, but days spent in a prison would be hauntingly different than inside a concentration camp.
And Miklos had been caught red-handed.
The Gestapo held the evidence. He did not hold a job, so it was obvious how he made his bones. Time and time again, he had gotten away, but now that all meant nothing. One was all it took. One bullet. One million. One time.
“Step forward,” said an SS-TV.
Miklos, in his bomber coat, faded pants and black hair, tried to win the guard over. He snorted.
“Right,” ordered the SS-TV.
In his eyes, he was just trying to avoid another fiasco. As he looked around the concentration camp, he noticed that no one was there for him. No family. No friends.
All his Pervitin friends were somewhere getting it or selling it.
None of them cared. Miklos sighed and looked around, knowing he was about to do something he did not want to do.
Schalek was a wealthy man who had done terrible things and some of the Rapportfuhrer SS knew it. He had been made out to be a monster in the Bibuta. He had no choice but to agree. What other choice was appropriate? He was a Rapportfuhrer SS dream come true, and the Kommando would have a field day.
Only outside Convoy No. 8 did Schalek realize how big a mistake he had made. The concentration camp was a big change from the dark councilman office where the rape had occurred.
Someone shooed him. Was the friend or family of a victim there and looking at him coldly? He couldn't bear to look anyone in the eye except the SS-TV.
“Right,” said one, very routinely.
Finally.
“Ok,” he hushed back.
Schalek had the feeling of being in a motor car with no breaks. Even the SS-TV had looked at him with contempt. He became nervous. The car was driving faster and faster with no breaks and it would only stop one way.
All four of these men were sent as inmates, to Fort Auschwitz.
It was a two-story, 16 block concentration camp which never smiled. Sixty-five percent of the inmates there were Polish and at least twenty-five years of age. The mood was vile.
The view inside the concentration camp was a courtyard surrounded by the sixteen blocks, a brick execution wall and a wooden guard tower. Around that was an electrical barbed wire fence, a cold reminder of the place which they resided.
For these four new inmates, it was a change between Heaven and Hell. Their lives had been altered and in most people's view, thrown away.
Their independence taken away.
They were as little kids playing in the school yard. Some had heard the stories and seen newsreels; enough to make one wince. The first image coming to mind was the SS-TV. The all-black uniform, peaked cap, both grimacing and sadistic, who fends off of new inmates to torture.
Some of the people, mostly women, children and a few men, were excited upon entering the concentration camp. It had been five minutes since entering and none of them were truly broken in yet. It was a matter of having to deal with and put up with. Why had they been told “Left” by the SS-TV? One of the men was old and belonged in a retirement home. It was hard to tell.
Suspended in lifeless animation.
They were taken to the shower room's outer chamber to undress. It was not your typical shower. It was a disguised gas chamber hiding dummy shower-heads. From the outside, a kind of a clean shower room but a mirror image to what was inside.
Anything could happen at Fort Auschwitz. An inmate could trust no one.
A smiling SS-TV patted the last person on the back who stepped into the shower.
“On behalf of the camp administration I bid you welcome. This is not a holiday resort but a labor camp. Just as our soldiers risk their lives at the front to gain victory for the Third Reich, you will have to work here for the welfare of a new Europe. How you tackle this task is entirely up to you. The chance is there for every one of you. We shall look after your health, and we shall also offer you well-paid work. After the war, we shall assess everyone according to his merits and treat him accordingly. Now, would you please all get undressed? Hang your clothes on the hooks we have provided and please remember the number of your hook. When you've had your bath, there will be a bowl of soup and coffee or tea for all. Oh yes, before I forget, after the bath, please have ready your certificates, diplomas, school reports and any other documents so that we can employ everybody according to his or her training and ability. Would diabetics who are not allowed sugar report to the staff on duty after their baths?”
Trust no one. A smile meant nothing at this house of horrors.
Cyanide pellets, Zyklon B, were dumped in through holes in the shower roof.
The SS-TV easily closed the door and if a person was lucky, the gas would kill them in no more than fifteen minutes.
A two story, wooden bunk bed was given to the four inmates. Just big enough for each one to breathe. Cockroaches climbed the wall. As they neared midday, a mouse began crawling around the bad bread left from yesterday’s food ration.
The turnip soup had been almost unbearable. After a while it became a daily routine, but no one could ever get used to it.
Because of the location of the block, it was always humid. The heat was like that of the Sahara Desert.
Jozef, Miklos, Henri and Schalek each had a hard time their first few days.
Jozef would have to share his bunk with a Soviet soldier, but he was stocky and able to hold his own. With a bald head and piercing eyes, he did not look like a pushover. He stayed out of his bunk and away from the soldier as much as possible to avoid any possible confrontation. Whenever things heated up, he would share a piece of bread or whatever it took to calm him down.
Miklos was a smuggler, but after leaving his wooden shoes unattended for a short while, came back to find them stolen. All he had left was two crumbs of bread. For an hour or two, he looked around and searched but his belongings were gone.
Henri the physicist was wily. He used his wit and charm and soon had friends. He had a fast humor and was very good at imitations. Henri was the type of guy you liked to have around.
Schalek on the other hand, had it worst of all. The one-time rapist had now become the prey. He was given a strange look by some of the inmates. The councilman. He was slim and didn't look as if he could defend himself if the time arose.

New Release- The Christmas Tree Guy by Railyn Stone

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com 
Genre: FICTION / African American / Contemporary Women
Release Date: November 6, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-075-6 ISBN 10:1631120751
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-076-3 ISBN 10:163112076X
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links...

The Christmas Tree Guy 
Sydnee Garrett has a lot on her to-do list. Wrangle her young and rambunctious twin boys. Check. Get her life back in order since her husband decided to leave her for a much younger woman. Check. And buy a Christmas tree. Check.
What she wasn’t expecting was adding one more thing to her list. A young, sexy personal trainer. Check.
Quinn Masters is a man who knows what he wants and doesn’t take no for an answer. He isn’t fazed by age or race differences and he does everything in his power to win Sydnee over.
Will Sydnee continue to fight for her orderly life or welcome in the chaos that’s threatening to change her entire world?


About Railyn Stone

Railyn Stone hails from the TarHeel State and is a romantic at heart. She believes you can find romance in the simplest aspects of life and enjoys letting her imagination run wild. Trying new restaurants, listening to music, playing golf and writing over the top stories about ordinary people are the hobbies she cherishes most.


Twitter: @railynwrites



Excerpt of The Christmas Tree Guy 
CHAPTER 1

Those children need their father...
Click. Deleting her mother’s message before it could finish, Sydnee closed her eyes and inhaled as if she were about to jump into the deep end of a pool. If she heard that phrase one more time, she would scream. One, one thousand. Two, one thousand. Three, one thousand.
Opening her eyes, she started to call her mother and tell her exactly just what she thought of Matt Garrett, her children’s absentee father, until she heard the unmistakable giggles of her rambunctious twins and their boots crunching against the snow. She sighed, realizing it was a conversation best suited for when she was home and not so tired, and definitely when the kids were asleep. Plus, it was a futile argument. Regardless of what she said, Sydnee’s mother seemed to think Matt walked on water.
“C’mon, Mommy.”
“Guys, slow down.” Sydnee watched her spirited boys run through the lot, wishing she had half the energy they exerted on a daily basis. It was the day after Thanksgiving, their usual day to get a Christmas tree and she was having a hard time getting into the spirit of the season. She could feel the weight of all of the things she needed to get done bearing down on her and she wasn’t sure how she would manage before the Christmas vacation she was sorely in need of. And now that one of her co-workers had gone out on early maternity leave, she’d been given one more project to handle, and she hadn’t even begun her Christmas shopping. Not to mention, the father that her children so ‘badly needed’ in their life, hadn’t so much as made a phone call to them in months, and she was just about through with him and anyone else who continually ‘preached’ to her about the merits of his presence in their life.
“C’mon, Mommy.” She could hear Travis yelling through the rows of trees. She smiled at the two running in and out of the evergreens dusted with the icy flakes of an early Louisville snowfall and she stopped for a moment to admire her two precious cherubs. Even though their appearance was identical, they had totally different personalities and mannerisms. Travis was a lot more outgoing and never met a stranger, while Charlie took his time to get to know someone, but once he did, they had a friend for life. Pulling the peppermint colored scarf tighter around her neck, she weaved through the trees and found the boys trying to decide on which one they wanted.  
“I want this one.” 
“Travis that one is nice, but look at the branches. Those are pretty low at the bottom.” She pointed to a few hanging dangerously low to the ground.
“What about this one?” He quickly pointed to the one beside it and grinned. She shook her head at his impetuous decision-making. Turning, she looked to see where Charlie was and noticed him moving slowly past each tree, taking in the branches and how they looked. He was definitely the more thoughtful and more introspective of the two. 
“What do you think Charlie?”
“I like this one.” Looking up at her with big brown sparkling eyes, he smiled and pointed to a fairly medium sized tree. It was full, and the branches seemed to be perfectly proportional.
“That one is pretty.”
“I like that one too, Mommy.” Travis, not to be outdone by his brother, said, running over to stand beside the tree Charlie had picked.
“You do, huh? You think this is the one?”
“Yeah.” Their little voices rang in unison as she pulled them into her sides and they looked at her with hopeful eyes. Looking in their perfect little faces, the long list of things she had to do fell by the wayside and she smiled. 
“May I help you?” She heard a deep voice rumble behind her and she turned to meet the pearly white smile of a gorgeous young man working in the lot. He had eyelashes most women would kill for, and a deep set of steel grey eyes beneath them. His dark wavy hair was short and neatly mussed, and he wore one tiny silver hoop earring in each ear. His strong square jaw was covered by a barely-there shadow of dark stubble. She was taken aback at how attractive he was and just how instantly attracted she was to him.
“Um, I think we’ve decided on this one, even though, sweethearts, now that I look at it, this may be a little bigger than what we can handle.” 
“But, Mommy,” Travis pleaded, looking at her with his innocent eyes.
“I know, but somehow we have to get it home and in the house and-”
“Mommy, please.” Charlie tugged at her hand as he and Travis took turns asking ‘please’.
“I don’t know.”
“You know, we can deliver it.” She heard the baritone voice behind her and she turned back to the man who was smiling at her sons and their exuberance over his last statement. She was having a hard time taking her eyes off of him and his hypnotic smile was slowly convincing her she wanted, no, she needed to buy the tree. She continued to hear a chorus of ‘Mommy please’ and she grinned at him.
“You really aren’t helping any.”
“Sorry, but I can see this is the tree they have their hearts set on.” She followed his gaze over to the twins who were now dancing their way around the tree.
“I know, but it’s a little bigger than I really planned, and getting it home is going to be a bigger deal than I thought.” She’d been so focused on getting a tree, she hadn’t really put much thought into how her 5 foot 6 inch diminutive frame was going to get it to the car, much less haul it in the house.
“I’m sure their dad will be okay with it knowing they’re happy, right?”
“Honestly, he doesn’t even care. I’m divorced.” Sydnee shrugged at the thought of Matt and his absenteeism in the boys’ lives, and she felt a stabbing pain of loneliness she just didn’t have the strength to revisit at the moment.
“Oh wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.” She put her hands up to keep him from apologizing.
“Oh, well, we’re about to close for the night and I can deliver it for you if you need me too.” There was that smile again. Did he know how unbelievably sexy he was? Focus Sydnee. 
“I don’t know. I-”
“Oh wait, here’s our business card and if you need me to, I can give you a copy of my driver’s license. I can sense the hesitation, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything.” She watched him grin at her with maddeningly perfect teeth as he handed her the card.
“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily go as far as a serial killer, but you really must want to sell this tree.” Taking the festive card, she was grateful for something else to focus on rather than his beautiful face.
“Well, the quicker I can get it sold, the quicker we get out of the cold.”
“Is that your motto? Pretty catchy.” 
“I just made it up. And well, I got to see that beautiful smile of yours, so maybe I’m making progress. So, how about it? You want this one?” She wasn’t sure if he was flirting or just trying to make a sale, but whatever it was, with his playful personality and those luminous eyes, he was persuading her to make the purchase. 
Glancing at her boys she nodded slowly, giving in. “Yeah, I guess we’ll take this one.” Well, now that’s off of my to-do list.
“Yay, we got a tree.” She smiled and shook her head as the boys jumped up and down and gave each other high-fives. 
They followed the young man as he picked up the tree and carried it to an area where he put a net over it to keep the branches from getting broken. The boys watched in awe while he worked and he even invited them to help him tie the net at the top to keep the branches from escaping.
Sydnee observed the genuine way he engaged the boys, explaining each step, inciting even more excitement in each of them. Once she paid for the tree, he took it and placed it on the top of her SUV and tied it down for her. She admired the way his body moved so fluidly and she caught herself staring at his broad shoulders as he hoisted the tree onto her vehicle. His voice shook her from her daydream and she felt a sudden flash of heat sear through her cheeks when he turned to smile at her.
“I can just close up everything here and follow you so I can help you guys get it in the house.”
“Oh, okay, thanks.” She piled the boys in the SUV and they waited for him to finish locking up. As they pulled out of the lot, she listened to the chatter from the boys and how they seemed so happy with buying just the right tree. Even if she wasn’t doing everything her mother said, she’d at least taken her advice and tried to keep the same family traditions in order to keep a sense of normalcy around the house for them, no matter how hard it had been.
They arrived at her house and she pulled into the driveway. Once she turned off the ignition, the boys piled out and started jabbering away as the young man walked from the curb to her car and untied the tree. He took it down and followed them into the house.
“You can put it over there.” Sydnee motioned to where the stand was already placed near the window in the living room. She still couldn’t believe she let a perfect stranger follow her home, but for some reason she felt comfortable with him. Once again, she found herself admiring his liquid-like movements, and she shook her head trying to clear the immoral and very uncharacteristic thoughts pervading her mind. His strong physique was impeccable and she could tell even with the bulky jacket he wore, he was in very good shape. 
“Okay.” He walked over and placed the tree in the stand, securing it before cutting the netting away from the branches. “It hasn’t been tied up long, so you shouldn’t have to wait to decorate it.”
“Oh great. Thank you again for doing this. I’m not sure we would’ve been able to get it in the house in one piece without you.”
“No problem. Just doing my job.”
“Well, thanks. Boys, what do you say to the nice gentleman?” She blushed again, realizing she didn’t even know the young man’s name and here he was standing in the middle of her house. Of course, the boys were oblivious to anything since they were occupied going through the boxes of decorations. They barely mumbled ‘thank you’ before they went back to talking about how they were going to decorate the tree.
“You’re welcome, and it’s Quinn.”
“What?”
“My name…it’s Quinn.” Sydnee felt her stomach do a flip-flop as he looked at her. And, she saw just how strikingly beautiful his eyes really were. They were like newly minted silver dollars and she was mesmerized by his gaze. Standing so close, she could smell his cologne mixing with the crisp smell of the evergreen in her house and every nerve ending in her body stood at attention.
“Oh, uh, well thank you, Quinn.” She shook herself out of her haze and handed him a $20 dollar bill. When his fingers grazed hers, she felt a slight buzz of electricity shoot through her skin and she wrung her hands together.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to-” He tried to refuse the money, but she wouldn’t take it back from him for reasons that were purely selfish. She wasn’t sure she could handle the electric feel of his hand on hers again and she hugged her arms close to her sides.
“Please. I insist. Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.” Sydnee moved to open the front door to usher him out. As he headed out of the house, the young man turned when he got to the top step. “I hope you and your boys have a Merry Christmas.”
“You too.”