Posted in Christian, excerpt, romance, Spotlight on September 1, 2016

thousand shattered moments banner
thousand shattered moments cover

Contemporary Christian Military Romance/ Women’s Fiction
Date Published: Aug. 9th (print/POD)
Publisher: Anaiah Romance

Synopsis

Sawyer and Raven finally see a future away from the war—if they can only get through this last deployment. But when the military separates them, Raven finds it impossible to protect her, and he worries her post traumatic stress disorder will return. Soon, Raven finds out PTSD is the least of his troubles.

Sawyer is assigned to a bomb removal unit being sent into the most dangerous area in Afghanistan where she’s taken and held captive for weeks. Expecting the worst, Sawyer is ready to die for her country. But when death doesn’t come, Sawyer turns her back on her faith. believing God has left her to deal with the aftermath of her capture alone.

Devastated at the news of Sawyer’s disappearance, Raven’s commitment to her never falters, even when her injuries threaten to take her from him. To make matters worse, he’s being kept from his wife by an angry mother-in-law. Raven is determined to bring Sawyer back to him—But is it be too late? Unfaltering in his faith, Raven knows with God’s help, he will prove his love to Sawyer.

goodreads-badge-add-plus

AmazonBarnes and NobleKoboiBooksSmashwords

 

Excerpt

© 2016 Connie Ann Michael

CHAPTER ONE

Sawyer wiped a hand across her forehead, interrupting the drips of sweat heading toward her chin. She settled into a shady spot on the side of the metal structure of the hospital she was currently assigned to in Qatar, Afghanistan. Sawyer balanced her laptop on her knees. Glancing down at her watch, she opened the case and logged on. Raven was supposed to be back from his patrol tonight, and they were going to attempt to video chat. Camp Grady was one of the best set ups in Afghanistan and provided consistent climate control within the tents but lacked the privacy she wanted to talk to her husband. She laughed to herself. She still couldn’t believe Raven was her husband.
“Hey babe,” Raven’s voice broke through the quiet of her hiding spot.

Sawyer pushed a few buttons to get the screen to show the face of the man she loved. His big smile came through at the same time she assumed her face appeared on Raven’s screen.

“Hey babe,” he said again with a sigh.

Sawyer reached out and ran her fingers down the screen, caressing his cheek.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yeah. I can.” Sawyer swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Don’t call me babe. I’m Navy.” Sawyer and Raven had gone round and round on her status as a Navy Corpsman with the Marines. Now it was a topic of levity.

“Not when it’s you and me, babe. You’re not Navy, you’re my wife.” Raven gave her a sad smile.

“You look tired.” Raven’s eyes were shadowed with fatigue, and the lines around his mouth seemed deeper.

Raven nodded. “You look beautiful.”

“I appreciate your ability to lie.”

Raven rubbed at his eyes then gave her a small smile.

“Just got back?” she asked.

Raven closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the screen. “I miss you so much.”

Sawyer wiped a tear that escaped and cleared her throat. “I miss you, too.”

Raven glanced to the side then sat back up and resumed a comfortable slouch in the chair he was sitting in. The torso of another soldier passed behind him on the screen.

“Where are you?” Sawyer shifted on the sand, getting more comfortable. If he was in the Coms center it would explain his quick change of posture. After the past few weeks of silence, being able to truly share their feelings would be difficult.

Raven glanced over his shoulder. “Coms. The internet doesn’t work anywhere else. I can’t guarantee I’ll be with you for long. Things have been worse than normal lately.”

Raven had been redeployed to Camp Dietz, the base where they’d originally met. Raven kicking her out of his unit and the inconvenience of marrying her commanding officer made it impossible to be redeployed together. But at least they were both in Afghanistan, even if they were hundreds of miles apart with bad internet.

“So, what have you been up to?” Raven glanced backward again. Suddenly a bottle of water appeared over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he told the disembodied hand before Raven’s right hand man, Thommy pushed into view.

“Hey, Doogie. Good to see you.” Thommy smiled into the screen.

“Hey.” Thommy had been with them in Dietz and after the mess they went through during their last deployment, the three of them had become close friends.

“Chief telling you about the mess we got ourselves into?” Thommy continued.

Raven punched him in the arm, and after a mumbled conversation, Thommy disappeared.

“You got into trouble?” Raven’s unit was supposed to find trouble. That was their job. They were sent in to find the worst of the worst and eliminate them.

“How are you?” Raven’s expression cleared as he put on his game face and leaned forward, plainly ignoring her inquiry.

Sawyer sighed. He’d been her commanding officer, and she knew that until he was ready, there was no getting information out of him. She pulled the computer closer. “I miss you.”

Raven rubbed the short hair over his ears. He had only recently arrived at Dietz and was almost immediately sent out on a mission. Sawyer had been deployed two months before him. Three weeks after their wedding.

“You doing okay? Staying on base? Not heading out with any teams?” Raven had made her promise to do her best to stay on the base and out of combat, but she was a corpsman and changing her job title to nurse wasn’t going well. Sawyer had suffered a tough bit of PTSD after her last deployment. The guard assigned to her while on her last mission had become a close friend and when he stepped on an IED and blew up in front of her, things got rough. Raven had helped but more so the pastor they had been seeing had allowed her to move forward and ultimately redeploy. Something Raven was not happy about.

“I’ve stayed on base,” she started.

“You’re going out, aren’t you?” His voice was tight. Whereas he had mastered the ability to hide his emotions, Sawyer was an open book when it came to him.

“You do. You just got back.” It was a weak argument but a valid one. It was also the only argument she’d come up with when she’d prepared for this conversation in her head.

“That really isn’t the point. I didn’t pull a gun on my neighbor after I got stateside. You need to take it slow.”

“Raven,” was all she got out before he nailed her with one of his famous cold-as-ice stares.

Sawyer took a breath and tried to approach the conversation calmly. She knew he worried and although bringing up her past wasn’t exactly fair, she knew her actions after her last trip home were hard to forget. “I’m doing fine. But this is my job, and until I fulfill my time, I have to do it. I’ll be careful. I always am, just like I need you to be.”

“I know, baby. I know. But it makes me feel better if I at least ask you to try and be careful.”

Sawyer looked at the new lines appearing around Raven’s eyes. He was always so concerned for his men’s safety. Adding her to that worry was taking a toll on him.

“I’ve been able to stay close for the last couple of weeks.” She reached out and touched the screen again. Raven placed his fingers against hers.

“I know.”

The screen flickered, and Sawyer knew she was going to lose him soon. “I love you, Moses.”

“I love you, too, Emme.” Raven kissed his fingers and touched the screen again. Sawyer did the same.

Raven and Sawyer sat silently, staring at a grainy picture on a dusty computer screen. Their time together had been so short. Their marriage one of long distance conversations behind barracks and sweating in poorly air conditioned tech centers.

“Have you talked to your mom?” Raven’s voice was quiet.

Sawyer closed her eyes and shook her head. “No.”

“Why?”

Sawyer looked into the deep brown eyes that veiled so many emotions and knew Raven was hurt by her not telling her mom she had gotten married.

“Are you ashamed? Embarrassed?” he started.

“Why would I be either of those?”

“Regretful?” he added.

“Are you?” she snapped back.

“Me?” Raven snorted a laugh. “You’re my heart. You’re my life, Emme. I want to shout from the roof tops how much I love you. And I did. I told my family. The difference is they don’t care, yours will. Why won’t you tell your mom?”

“I.” She paused. “I have always had a strained relationship with her. I want to be able to tell her with you there. I don’t want to do it on my own.”

“You need back up.”

Sawyer smiled, and he winked. “Yeah. I guess I do. It’s harder to tell me I made a mistake if the infamous Sergeant Ravenscar is standing beside me.”

“I’m a mistake?”

“No. Never. She just thinks anything I do that wasn’t her idea is a mistake. I want you with me so she can see how you could never be a mistake.”

“Then I shall stand by you, Mrs. Sergeant Ravenscar.”

“It’s still Sawyer,” she corrected him.

“Not for long. The paperwork should be through soon. The Navy just likes to do things slow. Now if you were a Marine…”

“So now I’m not a Marine?” she teased back.

Raven’s jovial mood subsided, and he looked to the side, something or someone was talking to him just to the right of the screen.

When he looked back, the expression on his face made it clear he was getting a directive to get off the computer. “I got assigned to an EOD Convoy.” Sawyer couldn’t let him go without knowing as many details of her mission as she could give him. They had promised to tell as much as they could so they could pray for each other’s safety, and she needed as much help as she could get to keep her head out in the field.

The curtain of a non-emotional Marine dropped over Raven’s face as he kept his emotions in check. “An Explosive Ordnance Disposal Team? Why do they need a corpsman? Don’t they sit in the trucks and play with robots?”

Sawyer laughed. The men on the EOD teams spent a lot of time playing with little robotic machines whose job was to disarm IED’s. Improvised Explosive Devises were the number one killers in this war with over fifteen thousand people having been killed in the last year. The team’s job was to go out and clean routes so the Army or Marines could move forward without fear of blowing up. The problem was the insurgents could replace bombs faster than the team could find them, so often times they ended up running over bombs in areas they thought they had just cleaned.

“Sergeant Holloway, he’s the commanding officer, asked me to come.” She shrugged. “Told me I was coming.”

“Do you know where?” Raven wiped at something on his side of the screen.

Sawyer knew Raven was doing his best not to explode at the prospect of her being out with a bomb patrol. Which was another reason she was thankful she couldn’t tell him where exactly she was going.

“You can’t tell me where you’re going?” he asked.

“No.”

“I’ll tell you where I’m going if you tell me,” he teased, his commanding officer façade slipping a little.

“All I was told is we are headed to Gor Tepa on a route referred to only as Route Z.”

“That sounds safe.”

“I’ll be fine,” was all she got out before the computer fizzled, and Raven disappeared into the blackness of the screen.

Sawyer needed to see Raven’s face and looked forward to the video chat sessions, but more often than not the internet connection failed, and they were cut off without closure, leaving her feeling uncomfortable walking away. Conversations always left hanging. Words left unspoken.

Sawyer snapped the laptop closed, collected her things and headed back to the bunk she shared with a nurse. They were on opposite shifts most of the time so they rarely slept in the room at the same time. Storing her laptop in a box sworn to keep the sand out but lacking the actual ability to do so, Sawyer sat on the edge of her bed and waited for the sense of unfinished words to subside.

A courtesy knock came just before the door swung open and Petty Officer 2nd Class Omar stuck his head in. “We’re meeting in the mess hall for a briefing in five.”

“Roger that.”

Sawyer barely saw the man’s face before Omar closed the door behind him. With a sigh, she got out the ammo box where she kept her personal possessions. Inside were the paper cranes Raven made her with messages of love as well as candy and the tiny heart given to her by Tahk, her guard who had been killed during her last tour. Sawyer tucked them into her pockets as reminders that they were always with her and headed to the mess hall.

The men from EOD Platoon 432 had settled in long green lines at the tables that set parallel to each other. Sawyer had avoided making any close friends on the teams. She hadn’t been assigned a guard this time around and was frustrated about the barrier it caused between the men and her. Tahk allowed an access point to the team that was difficult to find without a senior team member on her side. Sawyer tried to tell herself it was easier if she kept her feelings in check and developing relationships made the inevitability of war that much more difficult. But keeping to herself was hard, and life with this team was lonely. Sawyer hung in the back and leaned against a wall to listen to the plan—alone.

SSG Halloway stepped up to the front of the room, waving a hand until the men quieted. “Our orders came in. We will be taking three Buffalos out with full teams.”

The Buffalos were six wheeled, mine resistant, ambush protected, armored vehicles. All the wheels and the centerline were mine resistant. The bottom of the truck was fitted with a ‘V’ shaped chassis that was supposed to keep the force of a blast away from the occupants. Each truck was fitted with a large, articulated arm used for ordinance disposal. Plainly speaking, it got rid of bombs.

“The Afghanistan National Army is going to be riding in the sweeper truck.” He pointed to a few of the men. “You won’t be taking WALL-E with you. We’ll pack them in the lead and second truck.”

WALL-E was the name the men gave the Cobham tEODor, the Navy’s technical term for a robot they used for bomb clearing. Each truck carried at least one when they went out on sweeper missions.

There were some groans from the team having to ride with the ANA. None of the men really enjoyed being paired with a group that was supposed to be taking the lead on this war but most of the time were a bunch of clowns with guns.

Halloway waited for the group to quiet down before continuing. “The Army is going to attempt to take over a town known for heavy Taliban activity, and they need the route cleared. Route Z is the heaviest bombed road in Afghanistan. There is a good chance as soon as we get the bombs off the road and past them there will be guys going in and replacing them. It’s going to be a tight mission. All eyes need to be watching and ready. We don’t want to get blown up, and we don’t want the Army coming in on hot soil after we’ve cleared it.”

Sawyer fidgeted with the zipper on her digis. When she avoided telling Raven where they were going, she hadn’t been trying to be elusive. The people of this culture didn’t name things. The military had spent the majority of their time in the country making maps trying to give the teams some direction as to where they had been and where they were going. However, Route Z seemed as scary as the name implied.

“Doogie.” Halloway nodded toward where Sawyer stood. The men turned to look in her direction, and she lifted her hand in a half salute. Sawyer had been given the nickname Doogie during her last deployment. It was an honor to be given a nickname by the Marines, but the majority of the time the nickname wasn’t meant to be nice. Hers’ was in reference to the young age when she had joined up. “She’s our corpsman. She’ll be watching out for us and the Army if needed.”

The men nodded back at her then shifted around to listen to the rest of the briefing. Sawyer had been impressed with Raven’s unit. There were some incredibly brave individuals serving under him. But this new group of men took service to a new level. The EOD’s were the ultimate bomb squad. They were trained to disarm not only explosive devices but to neutralize chemical threats and even nuclear weapons. The Navy Explosive Techs were trained to perform some of the most harrowing, dangerous work in order to keep others safe. And Sawyer was going out with them. If injuries occurred, they would be severe and most likely deadly. The pressure of her task sat heavy on her shoulders.

“We’re pulling out at zero eight hundred. Dismissed.” They had approximately thirty minutes to pull themselves together and meet on the Buffalos.

Sawyer only needed fifteen. She had learned through her first deployment to always be ready. Taking long enough to gather her ruck, a gun, and email Raven to tell him she loved him, Sawyer was the first to arrive at the large armored truck that would be her ride down the deadliest road in Afghanistan.

About the Author

connie michael authorConnie Michael began her writing career after her two boys grew up and didn’t want to hang out with their mom anymore. A graduate of Washington State University Connie has been a teacher for twenty-five years. Specializing in Bilingual Education she recently left her home state of Washington to begin an adventure with her best friend and husband in Montana. Currently a fifth grade teacher on the Crow Reservation, Connie can be found biking, hiking, kayaking, or just hanging out with her two dogs.

FacebookTwitterBlog

Posted in excerpt, Giveaway, romance, Spotlight on September 1, 2016

King of the Friend Zone

The King of the Friend Zone by Sheralyn Pratt

Synopsis

Esme Taylor has an amazing fiancé, a lifelong best friend, and a problem.

The problem stems from the fact that her best friend is named Hunter and, well. . .he’s kind of (totally) hot. It’s hate at first sight when her fiancé, Jon, and Hunter meet. Jon’s convinced that Hunter is in love with Esme, and that Hunter must be out of the picture if their upcoming marriage is to succeed.

Esme thinks Jon is paranoid.

The truth is, Jon’s not that far off. Hunter is in love with his best friend and always has been. What Jon has wrong, however, is that Hunter never had any plans of ruining Esme’s happily ever after. Hunter wants what’s best for Esme, even if that’s not him.

When Jon pushes hard to end Esme and Hunter’s friendship, opposition comes from the most unlikely of places. It’s an eccentric lady with a cookie cart who suggests a different solution to Esme’s problem: Hunter and Esme should give each other a chance.

They’ve both thought of the possibility over the years—of course they have. But with a ring already on Esme’s finger and a heap of hurt feelings and broken trust in the mix, there hasn’t been a worse time to explore the depths of their feelings for each other.

Both Esme and Hunter think it’s time to move on and leave childhood crushes in the past. The question is: Can one woman and the taste of one cookie change their minds?
add to goodreads
amazon

Excerpt

While everyone around Hunter ate and drank, Hunter swirled the liquid in his glass and watched his friends and family interact with Jon.

The man was suave when he wanted to be; Hunter would give him that. He wore the right suits, said the right words, and charmed the right people.

What a hero.

He was also several inches shorter than Hunter, which meant Esme fit neatly against his shoulder as they stood and spoke with all their guests. Esme looked so content as she reclined against Jon, and Hunter wasn’t the only one who had noticed. The last person who had commented on Jon and Esme within Hunter’s earshot had called them “two peas in a pod” as if there were awards to be won in the category.

Well, there weren’t.

In that moment, Hunter was very glad he hadn’t been drinking that night, because otherwise he might have gone so far as announcing that fact to everyone. There are no awards for being two peas in a pod, everyone. Oh, and by the way, you should meet this guy when he isn’t trying to impress you. He’s a bit of a prick.

But, of course, no one wanted to hear that. No one wanted to hear anything from Hunter tonight except for a glowing toast endorsing the golden couple.

He still hadn’t written anything, although he had googled a generic speech and printed it out. It was in his pocket now, but he hadn’t practiced it and reading the prepackaged speech was pretty much out of the question now, thanks to his dyslexia. Reading on the best of days usually didn’t go that well for Hunter, but when he was seething mad?

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

So he sat and swirled and watched and tried to imagine what in the world he could say that wouldn’t earn him more frowns than his jeans had already earned him.

Then it hit him: Why try? Why not be honest?

There wasn’t a face at this party that he hadn’t known for the better part of twenty years—well, except Jon. His smug mug was as new as it was unwelcome in Hunter’s book. But everyone knew Hunter and they’d know if he vomited some fake, glowing speech their direction.

So why should he?

Why not be honest?

The idea grew on Hunter as the night went on and the praise for Jon became more and more abundant. The clincher was when Jon’s best man stood up and gave a speech that proved he’d probably met Esme all of once, and everyone in attendance nodded and beamed as the guy praised Esme in the most generic of terms.

According to whatever the best man’s name was, Esme was kind and compassionate and a joy to all those who met her.

Seriously? The guy had clearly never been within earshot of Esme when an ice cream truck passed in July playing Christmas music. That would redefine the guy’s definition of “joy to all those around her.” Yet everyone ooohed and ahhhhed and clapped until the guy sat and Jon gave his bestie an appreciative slap on the back with a look that said, Well done.

Then everyone in the future wedding party looked at Hunter expectantly. It was his turn.

In that moment, Hunter had a choice to make. He could either repeat the same lame puffery the best man had, or he could give the speech that had been building up in him like a sneeze all night.

Be nice now and freak out later, or let it all hang out? That was the question. And one quick glance at Jon’s arrogant face gave Hunter his answer.

 

SheralynAbout the Author

Some describe Sheralyn as a girl who’s been around the block and worked at every shop. This isn’t far from the truth. Writing is what she loves most, however. There’s a magical power in stepping into new perspectives time and again, and seeing the world through different eyes. Few things increase empathy more than walking in another’s shoes for 100,000 words or so. At least that seems to be the trend so far.
Some random things to know about Sheralyn:
* She’s a wanderer (geographically)
* She can write a novel, but doesn’t have the attention span for one page in a journal
* She vehemently disagrees with Stephen King’s stance that authors should not watch TV
* She is pretty much incapable of sleeping before midnight

Website * Twitter * Facebook

 

amazon or paypal$50 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Giveaway

Ends 9/23/16

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 | 
Comments Off on Spotlight & $50 #Giveaway – King of the Friend Zone by Sheralyn Pratt @sheralynpratt #romance
Posted in excerpt, Giveaway, romance, Spotlight on September 1, 2016

cowboy christmas cover

Synopsis

It will take a miracle bigger than the state of Texas for these two feuding families to survive the holidays!

Opposites might attract…

The Brennans and the Gallaghers put aside their one-hundred-year feud every Tuesday for their weekly poker game. This week, the stakes are sky-high. Goaded to recklessness, Declan Brennan bets one thousand dollars that he can woo the next woman to walk into the saloon. A minute later, fiery-haired Betsy Gallagher pushes through the doors. If Declan can tame this wild Gallagher, he’ll have earned every penny.

If they don’t kill each other first…

Betsy can outshoot anybody in Burnt Boot and loves ranching more than anything—until she falls for Declan. He’s fallen for her too. But when she discovers what sparked their courtship, Declan will need a Christmas miracle to save his hide—and his heart.

goodreads-badge-add-plus

AmazonB&NBAM

Excerpt

Light from all the windows made a yellow streak across the yard at the Wild Horse ranch house. Betsy inhaled deeply and let it out slowly as she parked her truck in front of the house and got out. A blast of cold air hit her face and brought with it the first snowflakes of the season.

She wiped at the flakes stinging her face and opened the front door. A rush of warm air greeted her along with her grandmother’s voice yelling from the well-lit kitchen.

“Betsy, come on in here. I’m having hot chocolate. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about the Thanksgiving dinner, so I got up and started making a list,” Naomi said.

Betsy stopped at the door and leaned against the doorjamb. “It’s getting close to midnight.”

Her grandmother had a deal with a very good hairdresser that kept her red hair beautifully styled and dyed so that not a single root or gray hair ever showed. Her green eyes, the same color as Betsy’s, were set in a bed of wrinkles, and her round face had begun to resemble a bulldog’s with its drooping jaws.

Betsy studied her grandmother carefully. She should look like a bulldog because her nature was exactly like one—grab hold of a bone and hang on for eternity, no matter if something better, like a rib eye, came along.

It took an attitude like that to run this ranch, young lady, the voice inside Betsy’s head said loudly.

Naomi pointed at the clock on the wall. “It is past midnight. Where have you been? Down at that bar trying to pick up a man?”

“No, ma’am, to the last. Yes, ma’am, to the first. I had two beers and…” She stopped before she blurted out that she’d gone to the river and talked to Declan.

“And a shot of whiskey. I can smell it on your breath all the way over here. You’re not drunk are you?” Naomi leaned closer to Betsy.

Betsy shook her head. “I had a couple of beers and shots of whiskey. I barely got a buzz and I’m not drunk.”

“Could you pass a breathalyzer test?” Naomi asked.

“I wouldn’t blow a zero, but I don’t think it’s enough to haul me into jail,” Betsy said. “Why are you being so nosy about how much I drank?”

“You are going to take over Wild Horse when I’m ready to step down. You know that, and it’s time for you to start acting responsibly. You are thirty, Betsy. I want to see you settled in marriage within the next year, and that means less drinking and a lot less visiting the bar,” Naomi said.

Betsy did a half chuckle, part of it escaping her mouth and the other part hanging in her throat. Yeah right! She’d sure take that message to heart and get right on making it happen.

“You think that’s funny?” Naomi asked.

“Little bit.”

“Mavis is now grooming Honey to take over River Bend since Leah screwed up her life by marryin’ that hippie cowboy. And I want you to be ready to take over Wild Horse when I step down.”

Betsy crossed the room, opened the refrigerator, and took out a jar of salsa. “It would be real nice if this wasn’t a competition between you and Mavis. What if I don’t want to run Wild Horse, or what if I want to run it different than you do?” She carried the sauce to the table and went to the pantry, returning with a bag of chips.

“You”—Naomi’s glared across the table at Betsy—“will take care of this the way I’ve taught you. You can be displaced just like Leah if you get any fancy ideas.”

“You mean like hookin’ up with a Brennan?” Betsy dipped the first chip deeply into the red salsa.

“That’s blasphemy in this house, young lady. I’d just as soon shoot you as let that happen,” Naomi said.

“How ’bout if I promise not to hook up with a Brennan, and you donate enough money to the church so we can have a proper Christmas program? Angela is fretting because she’s having a boy and there will be no program for him to play the role of the baby Jesus,” Betsy said.

Naomi shook her finger so hard that it was barely a blur. “That is not going to happen if it means letting the Brennans enjoy it. They shouldn’t have burned down our school. Then, we could have had a program. They have to pay.”

“Be reasonable. Not only are they paying, but so are we, and Angela is upset and the townsfolk who aren’t part of this eternal feud are paying too. Come on, Granny, be the bigger person and show the Brennans that we aren’t—”

Naomi threw up both palms. “Enough! This conversation is over. I’m not giving the church a penny, and any Gallagher who does will be in big trouble.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of this feud?” Betsy pushed harder.

“Hell no! It’s what I live for. I only hope Mavis Brennan dies before I do so I can spit on her grave,” Naomi answered. “They are so high-and-mighty and holier-than-thou because their ancestor was a preacher and ours made moonshine. I’m expecting you to pick up the reins and keep ahead of them, and if you can’t, then I’ll choose another granddaughter to be the queen of Wild Horse. I’m going to bed now and you’d best think about what I said.”

“Yes, ma’am. Married in a year. Runnin’ Wild Horse and keepin’ up the feud like a good Gallagher. Slow down on my drinking. Can I have one beer a week and a shot of whiskey, or do I have to choose between them?” Betsy cocked her head to one side. “Did I forget anything?”

“Don’t you get sassy with me. I won’t tolerate it. Good night, Betsy.”

“’Night, Granny,” Betsy muttered.

“And no pouting either,” Naomi said.

“You ever known me to pout?” Betsy said loud and clear.

“No, you’re like me. You go after what you want. You stand your ground, and you take out anyone who gets in your way however you have to. That’s why you will run this ranch and you will be settled before I turn over the job to you. That means a husband and hopefully a child or two. You aren’t getting any younger. If you got married in a year…”

When Naomi inhaled, Betsy butted in, “And a baby the next year. Tell me, Granny, when will I have time to run a ranch with a husband and a bunch of kids?”

“I managed it and did a good job after your grandfather died. Wild Horse needs a strong woman. You think about that, and don’t disappoint me.”

Betsy crammed chips in her mouth to keep from saying another word. She was tired of the whole conversation, tired of the feud that had been going on over a hundred years, and, most of all, tired of listening to her grandmother issue orders.

Married in a year? It wasn’t damn likely.

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author and RITA Finalist, Carolyn Brown, has published more than seventy books.  These days she is concentrating on her two loves:  women’s fiction and contemporary cowboy romance. She and her husband, a retired English teacher, make their home in southern Oklahoma.

Website * Facebook

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 | 
Comments Off on #Excerpt & #Giveaway – A Cowboy Christmas Miracle by Carolyn Brown #TexasRomance @SourcebooksCasa
Posted in 5 paws, LDS, Novella, Review, romance on August 31, 2016

one small chance cover

Synopsis

One city of two million people and only three months to find her.
What are his chances?

Isabel Antunes is content with her life as director of the English Academy in Lisbon. Then she’s hit by a man on a bike—a man her boss just hired to be her assistant. Despite Simon Ackerley’s repeated assurances to the contrary, Isabel believes he’s after her position, but she won’t hand it over without a fight. As if dealing with him all week is not enough, he shows up at church as well. Her only solace is in writing to the pen pal she knows as “Elliot”.

Simon Ackerley told his father that he was moving to Lisbon for the job. But that isn’t the only reason. Simon is looking for Amélie, the pen pal he’s written for fifteen years. A woman he knows everything about—except her real name and address.

When the biking accident reveals that Simon’s prickly co-worker Isabel is the elusive Amélie, he knows he has to win her trust before he can confess his true identity. If only he could tell her the actual reason why he’s come, he’s sure Isabel would treat him differently. But she’s not ready for the truth.

One Small Chance is a standalone novella of 43,000 words and it’s set in Lisbon, Portugal. It’s a clean and wholesome contemporary LDS romance in the A Love Story from Portugal series.

goodreads-badge-add-plus

amazon buy

Review

This may be a novella but it is not short on character development, has an intriguing story line and inspiring romance. Oh and some delicious food too!

This is also a very clean romance and since the two main characters are of the LDS faith, that is to be expected. But I like that because it makes the author be creative and use other situations and language to reflect emotions.

I like how Isabel and Simon were penpals for 15 years before Simon took a chance to try and find her, and an accident throws them together. It must have been fate.

There is even a little mystery in this book, who is stealing from the school that Isabel directs. Simon is hired to figure it out so that helps him try to woo Isabel before revealing who he truly is, her penpal of 15 years.

I really loved every element of this story and recommend it to everyone!

We give this 5 paws up.

pawprintpawprintpawprintpawprintpawprint

About the Author

lucinda whitneyLucinda Whitney was born and raised in Portugal, where she received a Master’s degree from the University of Minho in Braga, in Portuguese/English teaching.
She lives in northern Utah with her husband and four children. When she’s not reading and writing, she can be found with a pair of knitting needles, or tending her herb garden.

FacebookTwitter * Website * GoodreadsPinterestAmazon Author Page

Posted in Book Release, Christian, excerpt, romance, Spotlight on August 31, 2016

a powerful voice

Contemporary Christian Romance/ Women’s Fiction
Date Published: Jun 10th (digital) / Aug. 9th (print/POD)
Publisher: Anaiah Romance

Synopsis

Gloria Fielder is trying her best to live with sincere faith, but regret for a past decision makes it difficult to live with herself.

Justin Case knows first-hand the consequences of bad choices, but he doesn’t believe in burying past mistakes. He openly shares his testimony with the purpose of showing there is hope and freedom for those who come to Christ.

Justin is the new worship leader for the church service Gloria attends, and he also leads a new Bible study she knows will help her. To complicate matters, once Justin becomes aware of Gloria’s struggle, he seems intent on drawing her out of her self-imposed shell of guilt and regret. If she trusts him with her secret and her heart, will their friendship evolve into something more, or will it simply be her undoing?

goodreads-badge-add-plus

Amazon * Barnes and Noble * Kobo * iBooks * Smashwords

Excerpt

© 2016 Penelope Powell

Chapter One

Time heals all wounds…unless you deserve to suffer.

When the thought from her internal mantra struck, Gloria Fielder froze mid-step. As if punctuating the accusation, an icy wind howled, the force of it wrenching the glass door from her grasp and slamming it against the stopper.

“A few more minutes and you would’ve missed us entirely.”

Gloria looked up into the unsmiling face of a rail-thin woman standing sentinel over a group of children. Gloria assumed she was the children’s director, as they were all dressed in the festive colors of Christmas, their bright reds and deep greens reminding her of the candlelight service in progress.

She hesitated, her gaze shifting to the plaster nativity figures less than ten feet away, the babe in particular so…lifelike. Would it be better to leave and apologize later for having missed the program?

“Could you shut the door please? It’s hard to keep everyone’s attention while a draft is blowing through, and it’s almost time for us to begin.” Seeming to barely hang on to her patience, the director’s smile was as tight as her collar.

Being late was bad enough, but being made to feel like she was an annoying interruption was well…worse. Gloria shifted to close the door.

After an inquisitive glance toward Gloria, a chubby boy with flushed cheeks pulled on the director’s sleeve. “Mrs. Parker, when do we get our candles?”

“Patience, Tommy. We need to wait for the lady to go inside the auditorium, don’t we?”

Glancing from the boy to Mrs. Parker, Gloria apologized.

“That’s all right. We’re happy to wait for you to get settled.” Mrs. Parker’s smile stretched.

Gloria glanced back toward the woman, wondering if she meant what she said. She’d grown up in a house where a smile often held duplicity. Committed to stay, she hurried toward the partition crammed with winter coats. She unfurled the red scarf from her neck, then squished it and her coat into the mix.

Hushed giggles drew her gaze back to the director, who was busy giving each child a candle with detailed instructions. Everything about them seemed to contrast her. Was it just last year she wore red, putting on a good front? She wasn’t interested in being that person anymore. The clingy dress and all it represented was exiled to the corner of her closet. Proof she was different.

The past few weeks had been particularly hard. When something like seeing the babe in the manger shook her confidence instead of giving her hope, she questioned her faith as a believer in Christ. The possibility of seeing someone at this service she’d rather avoid tightened her chest with further worry.

“Ma’am, they’re waiting for us to start.” Apparently losing her patience, Mrs. Parker nodded toward the doors going into the auditorium.

Gloria tamped down her misgivings, straightened her shoulders, and walked toward the sanctuary. As she edged around the children to reach for one of the doors, a little girl dressed in an evergreen velvet dress took a candle from a basket and offered it to her.

“Thank you.” Gloria smiled.

The girl’s pink lips curved in reply.

Suddenly, blinking back the unwelcome pressure of tears, she turned and eased through the doors. Assailed by the scent of melting wax and pine, she waited for her eyesight to adjust to the soft glow of dimmed lighting, giving her a chance to scan the room for empty seats.

Soon an usher stood next to her, his face brightening when he smiled. “Is anyone joining you?” His generous teeth gleamed in the darkness.

Just me. She shook her head.

He motioned for her to follow him, then pointed to some empty chairs. As she made a beeline for them, his parting greeting followed. “Merry Christmas.”

Gloria glanced over her shoulder and forced a smile. She wanted to be merry. Wanted to simply feel peace. Wanted a reprieve from the recording in her head. Some days, the indictment playing over and over—tightening the tendrils of regret—putting her back on the treadmill of if-only. Making forgetting impossible.

If time was linear, and the passing of it promised things would get easier, then why hadn’t the grip of shame and sorrow weakened?

She settled into a chair as the children from the lobby entered and dispersed down the center aisle, the sound of their voices rising as they moved toward the front, their song offering her a distraction from her turmoil. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to escape into the words.

Joy to the World. A feeling she had yet to muster.

After several carols and a reenactment of the birth of Christ, the pastor walked up on the stage.

Bobby Jordan had thinning gray hair, a solid middle-aged build, and the demeanor and voice of an authoritative grandfather. But that was her opinion now that she knew him. Their first meeting was at her office.

His friendly and forthright manner reminded her of the old Southern gentlemen at home. He explained he was a pastor hoping to refer church members who were house hunting, said a friend had recommended her.

Her peace of mind wavered at the memory. Fortunately, the uncomfortable connection led to providential results. If she had not been going through such a rough time, and if Bobby had not sought her out, she might never have begun a relationship with Christ. If only she could find a way to reconcile how the two connected without all the bad stuff. She rubbed her forehead.

“Thank you children, you may join your parents,” Bobby said.

Gloria glanced up as Bobby laid a hand on the shoulder of a little boy after dismissing the others to finds their seats.

“This is Johnny, one of our shepherds in tonight’s program. He’s seven. I asked Johnny a question earlier, and I wanted you to hear his response.” Bobby crouched down. “Johnny, what’s Christmas all about?” He tilted a microphone toward Johnny.

“Pweth-sents.” The boy turned toward the audience and smiled, the gap in his front teeth sparking chuckles from the crowd.

“What’s so great about presents?”

“They’we fwee.”

Bobby ruffled Johnny’s hair and told him to join his parents. When the laughter trickling through the congregation died down, Bobby stood at the edge of the platform. “Each Christmas, we decorate our homes with nativity scenes and our Christmas trees with lights.”

Gloria swallowed, the nativity from the lobby edging back into her thoughts.

“We send cards, sing carols, and we exchange gifts.” Eyes down, Bobby paused. “I agree with Johnny. Big or small, presents are special, but are they truly free? Certainly, they’re free to the recipients, but to the giver there is always a cost.” Bobby raised his arms. “But to each one of us, grace was given according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Paul wrote this to the Ephesians. God’s gift of grace. Undeserved favor for us.”

Undeserved. That was certainly her. She’d never measured up to expectations, which was one of the reasons why she worked so hard at her job.

“As recipients, God’s gift of grace costs us nothing because Jesus paid for it. He gave his life, so we might receive forgiveness. Receive life. In this season of giving, in addition to the wrapped packages we place under our trees, let’s give grace to one another. Offer forgiveness when needed, even underserved.” Then Bobby prayed.

As before, the children assembled across the front. Once their candles were lit, they disbursed down each aisle, lighting the candles of people sitting on the end as they went. Music played in the background.

Eyes closed, Gloria focused on Bobby’s words. She prayed the message would wash over her. Because there was hope in knowing Christ had already forgiven her. And she could do the same.

“Excuse me.”

Startled from someone’s touch, Gloria slapped a hand to her chest.

A man barely visible, given the darkness and shadows cast by candlelight, leaned closer. “Sorry to disturb you, but I thought you might want to light your candle.” Highlighting his explanation, he lifted his candle.

For one brief moment, a striking, masculine face with eyes so dark they glittered like pools in moonlight stared back at her.

She swallowed, her heart still pounding from having been disturbed. “Sorry.” She fumbled for the candle amongst her things. Finding it, she held it toward him and tilted her wick toward his flame. A cool, woodsy scent wafted toward her, reminiscent of an autumn breeze. She inhaled the refreshing smell and relaxed a bit.

When her candle was lit, the flare illuminated his face once more. He looked up and caught her staring. Embarrassed, she turned away. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

When the lights came up, she hit the aisle, determined to get through the lobby then home. The last thing she wanted to do was linger. Not that she didn’t enjoy talking with people afterward, but tonight she felt fragile.

About the Author

ppowellThough her roots are buried deep in the hills of Middle Tennessee, she now lives in Indiana with her family and serves in her local church. She loves to entertain, give life to old things, antiquing, reading and of course writing.

Since I have degrees in Political Science and Multinational Commerce, I can’t explain how I ended up writing Christian Romance, except for God.

Like the things we experience, I believe good Christian fiction can inspire and change someone’s perspective, and hopefully point them to Christ.

Website

Posted in 4 paws, England, Review, romance on August 30, 2016

a summer romance

Synopsis

‘Milly settles into her new job but does her boss, Ashley Wilmot-Fox, have secrets that he is hiding in Briar Lodge? Will he be able to help Milly fight the ghosts from her past? Will Billy’s blundering romance last, and will Rafe’s secret affair be exposed? As the villagers prepare for their summer fete they have no idea what will be revealed on that day. ‘

Funny, Compassionate and Sizzling Sexy, A Summer Romance is a page-turning summer read.

A Summer Romance is the sequel to A Village Romance and is the third book in the Little Perran series by Lynda Renham writing as Amy Perfect. The first book was ‘A Christmas Romance’

goodreads-badge-add-plus

Amazon UK * Amazon US

Review

After reading A Village Romance, I was afraid to pick this book up and read it. However, I’m not sure if the author found her groove or what because it was much better and very enjoyable. There is a little drama/mystery, some romance, betrayal and some humor.

I like how the townspeople of Little Perran come together in times of crisis. It makes me want to live there – other than having to deal with Stella who is quite the gossip and bitter as well. And while the town may seem idyllic, not everyone is perfect and they all have their own demons to battle.

While the characters may not be deep, they do have some complexity to them and all of them round out the story well.

We give this 4 paws up.

pawprintpawprintpawprintpawprint

About the Author

Lynda Renham has been writing for as long as she can remember and had her first work published in a magazine at age nine and has continued writing in various forms since. She has had several poems published as well as articles in numerous magazines and newspapers. Recently she has taken part in radio discussions on the BBC.

She has studied literature and creative writing and has a blog on her web page.

Lynda lives with her second husband and cat in Oxfordshire, England. She is Associate Editor for the online magazine The Scavenger and contributor to many others. When not writing Lynda can usually be found wasting her time on Facebook.

Blog * Twitter * Facebook

 

 | 
Comments Off on Review – A Summer Romance by Lynda Renham writing as Amy Perfect #4paws @Lyndarenham
Posted in excerpt, Giveaway, romance, Spotlight on August 29, 2016

The Fall of Lord Drayson

The Fall of Lord Drayson by Rachael Anderson

Synopsis

Who is he really? A high and mighty lord or a lowly servant?

When Colin Cavendish, the new earl of Drayson, informs Lucy Beresford that she and her mother need to vacate the house they’ve called home for the past two years, Lucy is fit to be tied. They have no money, no relations they can turn to for help, and nowhere to go. How dare the earl break the promise his father had made to the Beresfords without so much as a twinge of conscience?

Fate plays her hand when Lucy discovers the earl unconscious and injured in the middle of the road. When he awakens with no recollection of who he is, Lucy seizes the opportunity to teach the earl a much-needed lesson in humility and tells him that he is nothing more than a mere servant. Her servant, in fact.

And thus begins the charming tale of a pompous lord and an impetuous young woman, caught together in a web so tangled that it begs the question: Will they ever get out?

add to goodreads new
amazon

Excerpt

He stared at her incredulously, as though she had escaped Bedlam. “Are you in your right mind, woman?”

Lucy leaned forward and planted her palms on his bed so that her eyes were level with his. “My name is Lucy Beresford. I have lived in Askern all my life. I’m the sole daughter of a vicar and a seamstress who lived most happily despite their differences in station. When my father passed away, I came here, to this dower house. So yes, I am in my right mind. It is you who are not.”

The earl’s jaw clenched, and Lucy took some pleasure at the sight. Perhaps he would come down off his high horse and show at least a small amount of kindness or respect.

“I may not know who I am or where I came from,” he finally said, “but at least I do not feel the need to tell tales.”

“Tell tales?” Lucy gaped at him. Was he accusing her of telling untruths? Her, of all people? What untruths? How dare he!

Lord Drayson glanced down at his fingers, frowning when he spotted grime under his nails. He began to scrape it out as he spoke. “Claiming to be the daughter of a vicar and seamstress is all very romantic, but it cannot possibly be the truth.”

“And why not?” she asked.

His gaze returned to hers. “In my experience, the daughter of a vicar would behave with more decorum, would know how to make a palatable broth, and would never allow herself to be alone in a room with a man who is not her relative. If there is one thing I know with absolute certainty, it is that you are no relation of mine.”

Lucy’s jaw clenched as she fought to control the rage building inside her. Ever so slowly, she pushed herself up to standing and glared down at the earl. “You are correct in thinking I am no ordinary vicar’s daughter. I do not love unconditionally. I show decorum only when I wish to. And I despise those who care for no one but themselves. But I do not tell tales.”

He actually chuckled, but it was more of a scoff than a show of humor. “Did you learn those traits from your father?”

“Do not speak of my father.”

“I would prefer to speak of myself, but you do not seem to share that preference, so perhaps we should speak of your father instead. Where is he, by the by? I would very much like to meet him.”

Lucy’s fingers became fists while her conscience became a battleground between all that was good and evil inside her. It was a short battle, with evil making a quick triumph.

Ever so slowly, her body still trembling with anger, she lifted her chin. If he was going to accuse her of telling tales, then tell them she would. “Very well, Collins. If you must know, I am your employer. And though you may not remember me, or this house, or your position in it, or the fact that you are perfectly susceptible to coming off a horse, just like any other human, I still expect some kindness and respect from you.”

“What on earth are you talking about? What position?”

There was not a hint of hesitation in her voice when she answered. “You are a servant in this house.”

 

RachaelAbout the Author

A USA Today bestselling author, Rachael Anderson is the mother of four and is pretty good at breaking up fights, or at least sending guilty parties to their rooms. She can’t sing, doesn’t dance, and despises tragedies. But she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make homemade bread, which she is really good at eating.

Website

 

 

 

amazon or paypal

$50 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Giveaway

Ends 9/18/16

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 | 
Comments Off on #NewRelease & #Giveaway – The Fall of Lord Drayson by Rachael Anderson @RachaelReneeAnd #romance #excerpt
Posted in Giveaway, Kindle, Review, romance on August 26, 2016

UntilSummerEnds

 

Synopsis

Sophie Newton is determined to prove herself to her father, who insists she could never run a successful business. She opens a beachside taco stand called The Sandy Tortilla and plans to make her own way, one burrito at a time.

When she loses her summer help, Sophie rushes to find somebody to help take orders. She finds that somebody in Montgomery Winters, a struggling actor from LA. Mont takes the job; the money’s useful, though he finds that his curvy boss is what really keeps him around.

As Sophie and Mont work together, they discover an intense attraction between them. But when Mont’s agent calls him about a career-making audition, he decides he must pursue the opportunity, even though he can’t get Sophie out of his head. Now, Sophie must choose between chasing after the man she’s falling in love with and the business she’s fought so hard to build.

goodreads-badge-add-plus

Amazon * B&N * iTunes

Review

This was an enjoyable read, and it was clean too! Sophie is a woman with issues from her past that impede her present. While I know many people have a past and sometimes those issues cloud their judgement, I wanted to ask her what she was thinking about running away at various times throughout the book. We all have to deal with our past, but Sophie kept running away.

Mont is the hunky man in the picture, but don’t be fooled, he has his own issues too including running from his past (including his name) and trying to find his path in life.

Despite the baggage they both bring to the table, I enjoyed their slower paced relationship with its ups and downs. It made them seem more down to earth and approachable. While Mont may be an actor seeking the role of a lifetime, he was no different than anyone else.

I thought the name of Sophie’s food stand was ingenious – The Sandy Tortilla – because it was on the beach and served Mexican food. I’m always impressed by food trucks/stands and what they can accomplish in such a small space.

Overall a great read!  We give it 4 paws up.

pawprintpawprintpawprintpawprint

About the Author

Elana JohnsonElana’s work includes the young adult dystopian romance seriesPossession, Surrender, Abandon, and Regret, published by Simon Pulse (Simon & Schuster). Her popular ebook, From the Query to the Call, is also available, as well as a young adult dystopian short story in the Possession world, Resist.

Her newest release is the beginning of a new adult fantasy series. ECHOES OF SILENCE came out with Amazon Publishing on May 3, 2016. See all of her books here.

Elana also writes inspirational western romances under the pen name Liz Isaacson. Check out all 5 books in the Amazon #1 Bestselling Three Rivers Ranch Romance series, and get ready for the rest of the series by the end of 2016.

Her newest release is UNTIL SUMMER ENDS, a contemporary romance novel from Cleis Press/Start Media.

Blog * Website * Facebook * Twitter * Goodreads * Join her romance-only newsletter (get a free novella when you do!)

Giveaway

Elana is giving away a Kindle Paperwhite

Visit her site to enter to win!

Save

 | 
Comments Off on Review & #Kindle #Giveaway – Until Summer Ends by Elana Johnson @ElanaJ #romance
Posted in excerpt, Giveaway, romance, Spotlight, Young Adult on August 23, 2016

Battered Not Broken tour banner

batterednotbroken cover

BATTERED

not broken

by CHARITY WEST

Contemporary/Romance/Young Adult

40K, Evernight Teen Publishing

 

Synopsis

Who knew falling for a man in Khaki could cause so much trouble?

Battered and bruised, Wren has taken a lot from her father over the years, but when he throws her out of the house, she sees it as a blessing in disguise. She has no job, no home, and never finished high school, but what’s all that compared to a life without abuse? When she starts over in a new town, under a new identity, she makes it her goal to fly under the radar.

New town, new life. Only, there’s a corrupt deputy intent on stealing Deputy Gray Frampton’s family fortune, a slight case of aggravated identity fraud, and a night in the local jail. It’s enough to make any girl’s head spin. Wren Michaels has to find a way not to spend the next three years in jail, warn Gray that Deputy Pritchard is after him, and somehow hold onto the happily-ever-after that is finally within her grasp—assuming Gray wants a felon as his girlfriend. Who knew falling for a man in khaki could cause so much trouble?

14+ due to violence and adult situations

goodreads-badge-add-plus

Evernight Teen    Amazon    ARe

Excerpt

The shadows crept closer as a deep cold settled into my bones. I cowered on the floor of my closet, hidden behind shoes and clothes, as I listened to the slap of flesh against flesh. He’d come home drunk again, even more so than usual, and he’d barely cleared the door before landing the first blow. It was cowardly of me to hide. I should stand up and fight—do something to make him stop. My phone was still clutched in my hand, and my heart pounded in my chest, the thump-thump loud in my ears. I knew I should call 9-1-1 and get help for Mom, but I also knew that even if they arrested him, they’d never keep him. Mom would give the cops some bullshit excuse as to why he was beating her, or say she fell, and then she’d refuse to press charges. If I thought things were bad now, they’d be even worse if he went to jail for the night. We’d lived through that horror once already, and once was more than enough. No one had to tell me my dad was an abusive asshole who thrived on being a bully. I’d experienced it firsthand.

My palms grew slick as I heard my mother’s whimpers and then booted steps coming down the hall. Was I going to be next? The footsteps grew louder, and I heard my bedroom door slam into the wall. I bit my lip to stifle my cry, hoping he wouldn’t find me. He shuffled around my room, his boots clomping and scraping the wood floor as he searched for me. When the closet doors were flung open, I squeezed myself as far into the corner as I could, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

An iron grip closed around my arm, his fingers biting into my skin, as he jerked me out of the closet. I stumbled and fell to my knees at his feet, bracing myself for what would happen next. My head was wrenched back, tears stinging in my eyes as he fisted my hair. There was such hatred in his gaze, such contempt, as if he couldn’t even stand to look at me. I’d always done everything he’d ever asked, and still it wasn’t enough. As far as my dad was concerned, I’d ruined his life, and he was going to make me pay for it until I was able to leave this place behind.

“Thought you could hide from me?” he slurred. “Stupid little bitch.”

The slap across my cheek made tears spill down my face, but I ground my teeth together so I wouldn’t make a sound. When he knew he was causing me pain, he seemed to enjoy it more, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He pulled hard until I was standing upright, my hair still clutched in his fist, and then he punched me in the stomach. I folded at the waist, gasping for breath as stars danced in my vision and bile rose in my throat.

“Worthless. That’s what you are.” He kicked out and knocked me to my knees again. “You should be groveling, thanking me for your life. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here, you ungrateful shit.”

Yes, because thanking him for the abuse he heaped on me day after day, thanking him for all the hurtful names I’d been called, thanking him for the days I’d had to skip school because I couldn’t hide the bruises—that was exactly what I wanted to do. One day, he would get what was coming to him. I didn’t know how or who would do it, but I knew someday he’d piss off the wrong person and they’d beat his ass until he cried like a baby. And I hoped like hell I was there to see it. I’d kick back with some popcorn and enjoy the show. I hated him. Hated him.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he demanded. “Well, I’m tired of it. I’m finished with you. My life was better before your mother got knocked up. Ever since she popped you out, you’ve been nothing but a financial drain. Not anymore. You have five minutes to pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house. And if I ever see you again, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”

Like I didn’t already wish that every day of my life. I should thank him for offering me freedom, even if I had nowhere to go. Anything was better than staying here. Plenty of people lived on the streets, so there wasn’t any reason I couldn’t do it, too. It just meant I’d have to find a way to get my GED sooner rather than later. Dropping out of high school hadn’t been the best decision in the world, but when Dad had broken my arm, Mom had thought it would be better than facing questions we couldn’t answer.

He stomped out of the room, and I heard his bedroom door slam. After grabbing a bag out of my closet, I shoved several outfits, underthings, and socks into it. I snatched my toothbrush and hairbrush out of the bathroom and crammed them in there, too. As an afterthought, I grabbed the travel pouch from under the sink that had shampoo, soap, and a razor tucked inside. I didn’t know where I would go to shower, or where I was going to sleep tonight, but I would figure it out. Maybe Mom would let me come home to bathe while Dad was at work a few times a week. Plus, it would give me a chance to check on her.

I zipped up my bag and then grabbed my backpack and purse off the bed. With my keys clutched tight, I walked out of the only home I’d ever known. Mom didn’t say a word as I passed her, and she didn’t try to stop me. Maybe she figured I was better off living anywhere but at home, and she may have been right.

About the Author

Charity West is a young adult romance author who has always had her head in the clouds. She had her first crush when she was four, and it lasted for six years. Then she quickly fell head over heels for another boy, until she had to move away and leave him behind. Jumping from one boy to another, she finally found a keeper when she was twenty, and she’s been married to him ever since.

By the time Charity was twelve, she was sneaking her mother’s Harlequin romances and reading them in secret when she was supposed to be asleep. Teased throughout middle school and high school for the bodice ripper covers on the books she openly read in class, she knew that one day she wanted to write her own happily-ever-afters.

TwitterFacebookAmazon Author Page

Giveaway

$10 Evernight GC
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Posted in 2 1/2 paws, England, Novella, Review, romance on August 23, 2016

village romance

Synopsis

As a heatwave rolls into Little Perran, so does love. Billy Baxter, the has-been rock star, and Rafe Wylde, the hunky farm worker arrive, both destined to cause havoc as they touch the lives of the villagers. Milly finds a new job and things start to look up for her, but she is unaware that a ghost from her past is looking for her.

Funny, Compassionate and Sizzling Sexy, A Village Romance is a page-turning summer read. A Village Romance is the second book in The Little Perran Romance series by Lynda Renham writing as Amy Perfect.

The Village Romance story continues in the book ‘A Summer Romance’.

goodreads-badge-add-plus

Amazon UKAmazon US

Review

This is the second book in a series and while you don’t have to read the first book, it might help to introduce some of the characters of the town. I didn’t realize it was the 2nd when I agreed to review, but as it is a novella, I don’t think I missed too much other than maybe some more details on the townspeople.

I am not sure if the copy I read was edited. The story has a lot of potential but I felt like there was a lot of back and forth that made it feel disjointed. There is one section that I thought was accidentally put in there twice until I realized it was from another POV. I didn’t quite understand why the author did this other than to understand what each character felt….but don’t think it was totally necessary. There was also a mention of a character wanting to hire a housekeeper for $25 (or 25 pounds) an hour…maybe he was used to London prices? Or maybe because he was rich he could afford it? It just didn’t seem to fit.

There are a couple of celebrities that move into town..one a brash musician and the other a quite author that is hiding from himself. However, several ladies in town see past their gruff exteriors and work their way into the men’s hearts.

The novella just sort of ends and you have to read the next one to pick up the story and where it leaves off because it does just leave you hanging.

I would give this 2 1/2 paws up.

pawprintpawprinthalfpaw

About the Author

Lynda Renham has been writing for as long as she can remember and had her first work published in a magazine at age nine and has continued writing in various forms since. She has had several poems published as well as articles in numerous magazines and newspapers. Recently she has taken part in radio discussions on the BBC.

She has studied literature and creative writing and has a blog on her web page.

Lynda lives with her second husband and cat in Oxfordshire, England. She is Associate Editor for the online magazine The Scavenger and contributor to many others. When not writing Lynda can usually be found wasting her time on Facebook.

Blog * Twitter * Facebook

 

 | 
Comments Off on Review – A Village Romance by Lynda Renham writing as Amy Perfect @Lyndarenham