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…