Thursday, August 28, 2014
Genre Contemporary Romance:
Penelope Book two of The Three Mrs. Monroes
Release Date: August 28, 2014
Digital ISBN-10: 1631120409 ISBN-13: 978-1-63112-040-4
Print ISBN-10: 1631120417 ISBN-13: 978-1-63112-041-1
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links.html
From loss breeds new life.
Penelope Monroe married on impulse and her heart had been broken by Adam Monroe’s lies. Pregnant she wonders how she will survive, alone, with her baby.
Brock Romero held Adam Monroe when he died in combat. Now released from the Army he makes it his priority to find Adam’s wife and share with her his last words.
On the verge of making the same mistake twice, Penelope must trust her heart—especially when new lies are uncovered.
About the Author:
Bestselling Author Bernadette Marie is known for building families readers want to be part of. Her series The Keller Family has graced bestseller charts since its release in 2011, along with her other series and single title books. The married mother of five sons promises Happily Ever After always…and says she can write it, because she lives it.
When not writing, Bernadette Marie is shuffling her sons to their many events—mostly hockey—and enjoying the beautiful views of the Colorado Rocky Mountains from her front step. She is also an accomplished martial artist with a second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do.
A chronic entrepreneur, Bernadette Marie opened her own publishing house in 2011, 5 Prince Publishing, so that she could publish the books she liked to write and help make the dreams of other aspiring authors come true too.
How to reach Bernadette Marie
@writesromance on Twitter
Excerpt of Penelope:
God she was miserable.
Heat waves rose off the pavement and the air was thick and still. Penelope Monroe sat on the front porch in one kitchen chair with her feet up on another. With gentle strokes, she rubbed her pregnant belly. She simply couldn’t believe how uncomfortable she was.
The smell of paint from inside the house wafted out and she tried not to let it make her stomach churn. She’d been appointed to oversee the two men putting in the new front window. That wasn’t much fun at all.
Both of their butt cracks stuck out of their pants and every time they talked they cursed then looked at her and apologized. She wasn’t a prude—well not really. She’d heard those words before, even if she didn’t use them.
Penelope closed her eyes and wished for a slight breeze. Her head was buzzing with paint fumes, curse words, and the events of the past few months.
It had all started when she’d married Adam Monroe.
His image formed in her head and she let out a small sigh.
Those blue eyes and that blonde hair, he was like a god, she thought. One she’d read about in books. He was a Marine, so his body was chiseled hard and he carried himself—well, like a god.
He’d been a player. She’d known that. The night she’d first laid eyes on him, he’d taken her friend home from the bar. At least he’d had the sense to offer her a ride home before he drove off with Christina—her ex-friend. There were explicit details from Christina she could do with forgetting.
That should have been her clue to never even talk to the man again. Easy sex from women you picked up in bars wasn’t her style. She’d been a virgin, after all. She’d been saving herself for her husband. It had been Christina who thought differently of that. Christina liked the loud music, the dancing, the beer, and the men. Usually she was considerate of Penelope’s feelings when they went out. But that night Christina had gotten caught up in Adam’s blue eyes, his hair, his body, and his voice delivering all the right lines.
Penelope figured she was most mad about the evening because she’d been having feelings she’d never had before. She thought, briefly, that had she been given the chance to go home with Adam she’d have done it. She knew she’d have chickened out, but he’d had a way with turning her heart to mush.
But it had been Christina he’d taken back to his place and—well, again, she’d just like to forget that she knew every detail of that night.
She couldn’t have imagined that a few nights later, when Christina had abandoned her at the bar for another one night stand, that Adam would walk in and change her life.
The words he used were different than the ones he’d used on Christina. His moves were gentle and that hadn’t been a word Christina had used when she’d given Penelope all of her details.
He was a gentleman.
They talked, walked, and dated a few nights. He was sweet when she told him she was a virgin and she was saving herself for her husband. Not once did he make a move or cross a line. Then he said he loved her and that had changed everything.
When he’d asked her to marry him, there had been no hesitation. They’d gotten married and, that night, she gave herself to him.
Penelope let out a breath and opened her eyes. Everything changed in that one night.
She ran her hand over her growing stomach. A small part of Adam grew inside of her, even though he was gone.
The day she’d come to Parson’s Gulch was the day they’d buried Adam—the day she’d met one of his other wives and seen the other with his children. She was only one of three Mrs. Monroes. One of three Adam had lied to. One of three who now fought to move past him.
The very thought of Adam’s lies still made her sick.
But just because she now detested her husband of only a few months, she couldn’t hate the life that grew inside of her. This child was hers and in a few days she’d see the baby for the first time. Adam’s other wives would be there too.
She let out a small chuckle which had the window installers looking over at her. Kindly, she gave them a smile and closed her eyes again.
Amelia Monroe, Adam’s second wife, had taken her in. She was kind though Penelope was sure she wasn’t used to being so kind But she’d given her a place to stay and had just friended her when she’d needed someone to care.
Vivian, on the other hand, had taken a little longer to warm up to. But when she had, they’d bonded. Though Vivian wasn’t more than ten years older than Penelope, she thought of her as a mother figure, where Amelia was more of a big sister.
Adam’s lies had entangled them.
Adam’s death had brought them together.
Adam’s life grew inside of her.
Penelope opened her eyes and rubbed her aching side.
In just the past week, her stomach had grown so much bigger. It stretched and Vivian was relentless with the cocoa butter routine. She had stretch marks from Adam’s other two children and she was going to make sure Penelope didn’t suffer the same fate.
More than just her stomach had changed though. A week ago, the entire town changed in fifteen seconds when a tornado ripped through the sky. There had only been a few injuries and no one had died—thank God!
Vivian’s home had been totaled and the front window of the century-old house on Main and Pine had blown in. Penelope’s car had also been totaled, but she thought she’d faired pretty well in that deal. Her beat up old car, which didn’t always run well, had been replaced by her late husband’s vintage Mustang.
Penelope had never been one for flashy, vintage cars, but she couldn’t help herself—she loved this one. It sat against the curb within view. Oh, she might look sexy in it now, from the neck up. But no one would ever give her a second look when they saw a baby seat in the back in a few months.
Sam Jackson, Adam’s lawyer, her boss, and now Amelia’s fiancé, pulled tree branches around the side of the house and stacked them near the porch.
“I have the misting fan set up in the kitchen. Maybe you should go inside,” he called to her.
“Too much paint.”
He nodded as he took his cellphone out of his pocket. He looked at it, smiled, and walked toward her giving the front window a glance first. “Why don’t you go in, get yourself a cold bottle of water, and walk upstairs.”
Penelope frowned. She knew it was much hotter upstairs.
Sam climbed the steps of the porch and held his hand out to her. “C’mon. Amelia is up there. She just texted me. She has something to show you.”
Penelope planted her feet on the floor, took Sam’s hand, and stood with an umph.
“You start up,” he said placing his hand on her back and walking her toward the door. “I’ll get you a bottle of water and meet you up there.”
Penelope shifted him a glance and walked inside the house.
The heat was nearly unbearable, but she walked toward the stairs and started up them.
Sam had redone every tread and in time, when she wasn’t around, they would stain them and the rest of the floors in the century-old house, which they were turning into a daycare center.
Adam’s father had donated the house to them. It was a kind gesture, she thought as she neared the top step. He’d been gracious when they’d needed it.
Amelia had come up with the great idea that they take what Adam had and turn it into a business to take care of his children. Amelia hadn’t asked for anything in return. But when pushed, she’d mentioned she’d like a gym in the basement.
So far she hadn’t stumbled across the secret project Penelope and Vivian had been working on. She seemed to be preoccupied with what she was calling her office upstairs.
Penelope hadn’t been upstairs in weeks. It wasn’t worth the climb. And now that she was at the top of the stairs and the air was thick and horribly hot, she knew she’d been right to stay downstairs.
Sam was right behind her with a cold bottle of water. He handed it to her.
“C’mon, go in,” he said.
“She’s been behind those doors for a week. I don’t want to be the one who goes in unannounced.”
“Yeah. You go first. She loves you.”
Sam scowled and stepped forward. “Yeah, and I’m the one she punched in the gut when I startled her too. I’m walking with heavy footsteps.”
He twisted the knob of one of the closed bedroom doors and pushed it open. Sticking his head around the corner, he pushed it open just a bit more.
“She’s afraid to come in. You’re not going to throw anything are you?”
Penelope heard Amelia grunt and then the door swung open hard. “Get in here.”
Penelope walked through the thick air toward the room and gasped when she walked in.
Amelia, Vivian, and Vivian’s daughters were standing in the room with enormous grins on their faces. “Well, what do you think?”
Penelope looked around at the transformed area. They had taken the two bedrooms, which shared a Jack and Jill bathroom, and completely renovated them.
The room she stood in was painted a very soothing shade of pale green. There was a wrought iron bed with a lacy white spread. Over the bed, was a painting that she knew Vivian had found in the basement. An antique dresser and mirror sat against the wall and they’d also added a beautiful armoire.
“This is magnificent,” she said with her breath wheezing out. “This is what you’ve been working on?”
“Yes. You needed a place to stay,” Vivian said. “Amelia did almost all of it.”
“You and the baby. This is your home now—when the fumes are all gone.”
She felt the tears sting, but she tried to hold them back.
“I did that.” Emma, Vivian’s four year old daughter said as she pointed to the rocking chair. “The Teddy bear. I made it at Build-a-Bear.”
Penelope covered her mouth and tears quickly rolled down her cheeks.
“You’re such a girl,” Amelia teased as she put her arm around Penelope’s shoulders. “C’mon, there’s more. Try not to cry too much or you won’t be able to see anything.”
She walked her to the bathroom that joined the two rooms. It was painted a soft brown and all the fixtures had been replaced with modern replicas of older ones.
“This is gorgeous. I can’t believe I didn’t know you were doing this.”
“That would have ruined the surprise. Okay, now you can cry your eyes out,” Amelia said as she opened the door that led into the next bedroom.”
When Penelope saw it, she did cry harder. The pastel yellow room with handmade curtains depicting tumbling teddy bears hung from the window. Matching bumpers adorned a crib against the wall. There was a matching rocking chair in this room with a teddy bear on the seat.
Ava, Vivian’s two-year-old, tugged on Penelope’s shirt. “I made that.”
Penelope batted her eyes and ran her hand over Ava’s braids and smiled. Never in her life could she have expected such love. And to think, these women and children had been jaded by Adam’s lies too. But they were there for her and her baby. They embraced her. They loved her.
“I can’t…I don’t…Oh…” she sobbed.
Vivian moved to Penelope and wrapped her arms around her. “Quit crying. You’re going to make me cry.”
“I don’t deserve this,” Penelope said.
“Sure you do,” Amelia added.
Penelope looked up to see her standing with her arms crossed over her chest and Sam next to her with his arm around her shoulders. They made a beautiful picture, she thought. Amelia was very lucky to have fallen in love with him.
“You’ve all been so nice to me…”
“And we’re going to keep being nice.” Amelia walked toward her and whispered, “Adam brought us together. We are all family now.” She took Penelope’s hands in hers. “This is the least he could do to take care of you and your baby.”
Again, Amelia was being sweet and that nearly made Penelope want to laugh. But she’d learned this side of Amelia was as genuine as the side that liked to kick men’s butts.
As Ava and Emma showed Penelope all the parts to their baby’s room, the doorbell rang.
They all exchanged glances and Vivian shook her head. “I’ll get it. It’s probably those boobs putting in the window.”
Penelope watched her walk out of the room and then, hand in hand, Sam and Amelia walked out too. She looked down at the sisters of her baby and smiled. She’d be okay without Adam there or any other man for that matter. She and her baby were loved. That’s all that mattered.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Release Date: September 25, 2014
Digital ISBN-10:1631120646 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-064-0
Print ISBN-10:1631120654 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-065-7
Have you got a secret hidden so deep that thinking about it threatens to overwhelm you?
Bethany Forrester and Denizon Cartwright are mother and daughter but they haven’t seen each other for thirty five years. Not since Beth gave Denizon up for adoption when she was two days old.
“How to Have a Happy Marriage” tells the story of how they find each other and their lives and loves along the way – from the stormy relationship between Beth and her husband to Denizon’s quest for true happiness and real love.
We follow the ups and downs of the pair as they struggle to fit each other into their already complicated lives.
Will it be a happy ending for either of them?
Find out in the final chapter of the “How to …” series of books.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary
Release Date: August 21, 2014
Digital ISBN 10:163112062X ISBN 13:978-1-63112-062-6
Print ISBN-10:1631120638 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-063-3
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links.html
Love is like a snowflake; beautiful but fleeting in its presence…
I’ve been in love. But I’ve also been lied to, betrayed by those closest to me and I’ve suffered loss. Sadly it’s those last three things that stick with me the most. The only real constants in my life are music, Angus my dog and Rhiannon; my guitar.
But things changed when she walked into my place of work. All blue eyes, curves and a warmth that could melt even my hardened heart. I was taken over by feelings that I didn’t expect so soon. Guilt plagued me and I took my anger out on her.
But I fell fast and hard and there was nothing I could do to stop it. When she too became the victim of heartbreak I was the only one who understood her pain but I was the last person she wanted help from.
Would I ever convince her that we could be friends? And would I ever accept that she couldn’t love me back?
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 four and five so watch this space.
How to contact Lisa J Hobman:
Excerpt of Bridge of Hope:
It had been the same damned nightmare again.
I’d been experiencing what the doctor called night terrors ever since receiving the news that Mairi had been declared dead. The love of my fucking life… dead. There were no words to describe the physical pain knotting my insides every time I realised it was true and not just a cruel dream.
There had been no body to bury. But apparently that’s not uncommon when people are lost up the side of a mountain like K2. People can lie undiscovered for years up there, so I’m told.
The stupid thing was that I wasn’t even there when it happened, but for some bizarre reason my psyche had built up its own series of events and insisted on torturing me with the movie of Mairi’s death every time I closed my eyes.
What I wouldn’t give for a peaceful night’s sleep.
I’d taken on extra work whenever I wasn’t on the water. The boat was only a seasonal thing anyway. And although tourists loved the area surrounding the bridge over the Atlantic, taking a trip out on Little Blue on choppy water wasn’t for fainthearted, unseasoned sailors. So I’d taken on work as a handyman. I was fixing taps, sealing sinks, unblocking drains. Oddly, all the jobs seemed to be water related. Maybe that was because I had a combination of water and single malt running through ma veins. Who knows?
Keeping busy was my intention. Being occupied was the only thing stopping me from slipping into a deep depression, and I knew all too well how easy it would’ve been just to let go and fall into the abyss like Mairi did in my nightmares.
I’d met her when I was out walking. I’d pretty much given up hope of ever falling in love for real. I’d had a shot at it before—Alice was her name, but the less said about her right now the better. But life likes to throw in curveballs every so often. And so there I was up by the Buckle, taking in the scenery and fresh air, when this fiery-haired girl tripped over her laces and into my arms. She had the most stunning smile I’d ever seen. And her eyes… Let’s just say when she gazed up at me she melted my heart. We chatted for ages and it was just… so natural.
I was never going to be the same again.
Our relationship progressed quickly and was very physical. I was a fair few years older than her but I had no trouble keeping up, if you know what I mean. I loved every inch of her body with a passion I’d never experienced before. It was raw and real. I’d sit watching her as she studied maps and reference books about climbing. Every so often she’d glance up and catch me staring and she’d just smile, climb into my lap, and kiss me.
After Alice and I split—I won’t bore you with the details just yet, let’s just say that she was a nasty piece of work who messed with my head and broke my heart, more than once—I swore off love and all it entailed. I didn’t need a woman in my life. Or so I thought. But when I lost Mairi, it was like someone had ripped out ma heart and stamped on it whilst I watched. The pain was excruciating.
Physical, gut-twisting pain.
I felt sure they’d gotten it wrong. She went to K2 with experienced climbers. She was an experienced mountaineer too. It’d been her dream for so long. I wasn’t about to stand in her way, and the thought that she may not come back never even entered my head.
Not being able to say goodbye was the worst thing. The small memorial service we held was devoid of emotion. It was as if her friends and family were in some kind of denial.
I think I was too.
Thinking back to the morning she left for the trip broke my heart, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Her long, titian curls fanned out on the pillow beside me and she smiled as she slept. She was exposed to me from the waist up and I lay there on my side, willing her to awaken. I wasn’t going to see her for months and I wanted to get my fill whilst I still could. I gently stroked her chin, down between her creamy bare breasts to her navel. It was cruel but I wanted her to open her eyes. Instead she whacked my hand away and muttered expletives. I burst out laughing, trying my best to do it quietly but failing miserably.
She picked up one of the spare pillows and hit me on the head with it, making me chuckle again. “Gregory McBradden, you’re a total shit. I was having a really sexy dream,” she whined, eyes still closed.
I leaned in. With my mouth next to her ear, I whispered, “Open your eyes and let’s make your dream come true, love.” That got her every time. Goose bumps pricked her skin and she moaned. Her eyes sprang open and she pounced on me, pushing me onto my back and straddling my waist.
God, she was so beautiful.
I gazed up at her. Her pert breasts begging for my touch. I was already hard, but seeing her like this did something to my insides and brought out the animalistic side of me. I gripped her hips as I inhaled a deep breath, trying my best to calm the furnace raging beneath my skin. As she bent to take my mouth in a deep, sensual kiss, her hair cascaded to my chest. Our tongues slipped and slid together in an erotic dance, and every nerve in my body sprang to life just for her. Every fibre of my being was drawn to her; needed her.
I swept the hair back from her face and fixed my eyes on hers.
“Do you know how much I love you, Mairi? Do you know how much I’m going to miss you when you’re gone? It doesn’t matter how far apart we are. You’re still in here,” I said, touching my head. “And in here.” I touched my chest over my heart. She stared silently at me for a moment and then closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek and I caught it with my thumb. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
She inhaled deeply. “Nothing. I’m just… really nervous about the whole trip. K2 has been my dream for so long, but now… I’m terrified. What if I’m not fit enough? What if I can’t do it, Greg?”
I slid my calloused hands up her smooth, taut thighs where they gripped me, to the dip between her hip and waist as my eyes followed the journey of my fingers. I swallowed hard at the feel of her muscles tightening under my caress, and my breath caught in my throat as I replied, “Come on, love, you are fit enough and strong enough. You’ve been working towards this for so long, how could you not be? You’re bound to be nervous. But you’re fulfilling a dream, and there’s not many folk can say they’ve done that. You’ll be fine. Absolutely fine. But I might not be.” I stuck out my bottom lip, trying to lighten the mood. “My heart might break into a million pieces when I’m left here by mysel’. What will I do?”
She bent and kissed my nose. And then with a sexy smile, she smoothed her hands down my chest and it was my turn to shiver.
“You’ll have to dream of me naked on top of you like this, and that’ll cheer you up.” She rolled her hips, making me bite my lip.
I inhaled deeply. “Aye, I suppose it will. But having you back here again so I can do this again…” In one sweep of my arms I had her beneath me, my body between her silky thighs. I sank into her, pleasure radiating from where we were joined. “… is what I’ll be looking forward to.”
A breathy moan escaped through her full lips. She closed her eyes as she welcomed me in and slipped her arms around my neck. I kissed her everywhere I could reach, taking each nipple into my mouth slowly and nibbling on the little buds as they tightened. Gasping, she fixed her eyes on mine as I moved deep within her.
Overwhelming emotions ripped through me as I made love to her. My Mairi. I took in every sensation and every look; my heart aching at the thought of being apart from her for so long. As she pulsed around me and her orgasm took her soaring off into the stratosphere, I kept my gaze locked on hers, hoping I was conveying everything through my eyes that I couldn’t put into words, and I followed soon after.
Afterwards, we lay there in each other’s arms for what felt like hours. I was unwilling to let her go, telling myself I’d hold her for a few minutes more. When she eventually withdrew from my embrace, I lay back and fought the fears niggling deep within me.
What if she meets someone who’s more her age? What if she meets someone who loves climbing the way she does? What if she doesn’t miss me as much as I miss her? What if she loves it so much out there that she decides to stay? What if? What if? What fucking if?
A couple of hours later we set off to the airport, and for the first part of the journey we both sat in silent contemplation. There were so many things I wanted to say, but the words never came and I cursed myself for being so fucking useless at expressing myself.
Luckily, she knew what I was like. I’d spent the day before looking for songs to express how I felt and I’d made a CD. The silence in the car was deafening and so I reached over and hit play. I made eye contact with her for a few moments as the opening chords to “I Will Remember You” by Ryan Cabrera filled the small space between us. Turning my eyes back to the road, I saw her in my peripheral vision, wiping her eyes as her lip trembled.
At the airport I pulled her into my arms and held her against my chest. I knew she must have felt the rapid pounding of my heart as we stood inside the terminal. Tears threatened. My eyes were desperate to give them up, but I tried so hard not to make the situation more difficult than it already was. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pulled away and gazed into her emerald eyes one last time.
My voice wavered as I told her, “I’m not going to say goodbye because I hate that word and we’ll be back together before you know it anyway. So I’m going to say have a great time and stay safe. And know that I’ll be thinking of you every moment whilst you’re gone.”
Pulling me toward her, she kissed me with a ferocity that took my breath away. I fisted my hands in her hair and returned the kiss with equal passion. When I eventually pulled away, I cupped her face in my hands and stroked the apples of her cheeks with my thumbs. “It’s just a few months, love. Go and show ’em what you’re made of, eh?”
She nodded and gripped my hands where they lay on her skin. Relentless tears spilled from her eyes as she let go and turned to walk away. All my fears bubbled to the surface once again and I couldn’t hold back. “I love you, Mairi. And one day I want to marry you!” I shouted.
As soon as the words left my mouth I clamped it shut.
We’d never discussed marriage before. But I have a tendency to say what’s on my mind without thinking about the consequences, and this was one of those times. I was filled with dread. Had I just given her a ticket to Get-Out-Ville? Again, fuck! My heart hammered like it was trying to do a fucking runner and my mouth went dry.
The people around us stopped and stared.
Mairi halted in her tracks and I froze. She turned to face me, her mouth open in what I can only describe as utter, mind-frying shock. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to find something to say to take the words back. But a beautiful smile appeared on her face. She ran toward me and flung her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist. Everyone around us applauded as I hugged her into my body before letting her go and setting her down again. With one last heart-melting smile she stroked my cheek, turned, and walked away.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 4, 2014
Digital ISBN-10:1631120662 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-066-4
A Gift for Chloe
Linda is the one who holds her family together. She’s an absolute rock—at least, she was until her daughter announced her pregnancy (wait, isn’t 40 way too young to become a grandmother?) and delivered the news that the baby has Down syndrome.
Now she finds herself standing in the middle of a bookstore, floundering to regain her equilibrium as her carefully ordered world tumbles willy-nilly around her. Instead of making a relatively simple decision about which book to buy, she’s spent an hour waffling between two titles and trying (and failing) to come to grips with this new reality she hasn’t had nearly enough chance to prepare for. It’s not that she hasn’t already fallen head over heels in love with baby Chloe, but this is something she’s not equipped to handle—she can’t even choose a self-help book on the subject, for goodness’ sake.
Her friends and the medical professionals blithely insist she’ll forget all about special needs the moment she sees her grandchild for the first time. Even the too-good-to-be-true, optimistic fellow customer she encounters in the aisle of the bookstore seems to think she’s worried over nothing.
This handsome stranger is obviously compassionate and knows a lot about Downs, but Linda is in no way interested in striking up a conversation with him, let alone a friendship, no matter how intriguing he is… until he performs a random act of kindness she can’t ignore.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Genre Contemporary Romance
Vivian Book three of The Three Mrs. Monroes
Release Date: September 18, 2014
Digital ISBN-10: 1631120425 ISBN-13: 978-1-63112-042-8
Print ISBN-10: 1631120433 ISBN-13: 978-1-63112-043-5
From loss breeds new beginnings
Vivian Monroe had been jaded. Her husband’s death only compounded the lies she’d only come to learn about.
Clayton North knows a thing or two about loss. He figured it was fate for him to meet Vivian Monroe. He’ll take on the challenge of helping her mend her heart.
Midst new friendships and new romance, Vivian must let go of her pain and face the woman who helped Adam Monroe weave his deceptive web.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Genre: Fiction, Family Life
Release Date: August 7, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-055-8 ISBN 10: 1631120557
Print ISBN 13:978-1-63112-056-5 ISBN 10: 1631120565
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links.html
A Painted Room
The best day in a parent’s life turns into the worst.For expectant parents, the origins of a new life are usually accompanied by excitement, anticipation and just a touch of anxiety about the future. There are classes to attend, prams to buy, and of course, the baby's room has to be painted.
This description fits Gary and Melinda quite nicely - except Gary hasn't painted the baby's room yet. He finally gets around to starting the job, but Melinda's water breaks before he finishes the first coat.
From there, the situation rapidly deteriorates. Their baby, Justin, is born via caesarean. Shortly after the birth Justin experiences breathing difficulties and is transferred to intensive care a few hours later.
The story follows Gary over a tumultuous few days as Justin undergoes emergency treatment. Gary and Melinda quickly discover that when a baby's life is on the line, it doesn't really matter whether or not you have a painted room.
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. A Painted Room is Pete’s second book, and follows his debut novel, 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.
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Melinda waddled into the bedroom, looked at the display on the luminous alarm clock and frowned. Shaking her head, she trudged across the room and pulled herself slowly onto the bed, wincing as her back registered its habitual protest.
She looked down at her body, an expression of displeasure crossing her pretty face. A couple of varicose veins featured prominently on her once smooth and unblemished legs. She removed the chain from around her neck and unthreaded the wedding band. Holding the ring in one hand, she tried to place it on her swollen ring finger first then her pinkie, but could not get past the first knuckle with either of them. Shaking her head, she replaced the ring on the chain. Her pajama top stretched tightly over her eight-month belly. She tried to pull the top down to cover the exposed band of skin at the bottom of her tummy, and snorted in disgust when it sprang back, once again revealing her stretch marks.
Melinda picked up a piece of paper from the bedside table and examined it closely. It did not give her any more joy than the sight of her pregnant body had. In fact, she scowled as she perused the paper.
It was a list of jobs.
A long list of jobs and only a few of them had been crossed out. The spare bedroom still needed to be cleaned out and painted. The cot required assembly and the plastic bags full of nappies, bibs, clothes and toys still remained unsorted.
A leather bound diary lay on the bed. Melinda turned to the yearly planner page and placed her finger on a prominently circled date. She counted backwards, a week at a time on her fingers, stopping at four. She looked from the list to her fingers and back again with pursed lips. Reaching across to the alarm clock, she fiddled with the settings.
The jangle of keys at the front door interrupted her. She looked up expectantly, and then composed her features to remove any trace of welcome. The keys were dropped, and a male voice swore. The jangling resumed and the front door opened. Melinda sat back on the bed with her arms crossed and looked down at her watch. “It's about time,” she greeted him icily.
“Hello to you too,” replied Gary.
“Don't give me hello. Where have you been?”
“I just had a few boys with the drinks,” slurred Gary. “It's not even midnight. Why are you upset?”
“Where do I begin?” asked Melinda. “For starters, you said you'd come straight home after soccer and empty the spare room.” She picked up the list and waved it at Gary, before throwing it in the air in disgust. Gary’s vacant eyes followed the list, struggling to keep up with it as it floated gently to the floor. “You never called and told me where you were. I've been stuck at home, resting under doctor's orders, not able to have a drink, not supposed to do anything, bored and uncomfortable. All the while, you're gallivanting around the country side, getting drunk with your mates.”
Gary threw his arms into the air. “I've been going out with the boys for years. I don't know why it's a problem all of a sudden.”
“Were you even listening to me?” pleaded Melinda, a solitary tear trickling down her cheek. “I can't go out. I can't occupy myself. I'm stuck at home alone. I need you here with me.” She flicked the switch on the bedside lamp, sending the room into darkness. “I'm going to sleep.”
He fumbled and bashed the alarm clock which had jolted him out of an unsettled sleep. He half-opened one eye. The luminescent dials glowed brightly, searing into his glassy eyeball like a hot poker. His befuddled brain struggled to make sense of his surroundings. Was it Monday already? Surely not. It must be Sunday. But what could cause the alarm to go off at quarter to six?
Melinda looked across at him. “Morning dear,” she said in a loud and cheerful tone. “We've got a big day today.”
“A what?” Gary shook his head. “What on earth is going on? What are you talking about?”
“It's Sunday. We've got a heap of jobs to do. You promised me we'd finish the painting today. And since we didn't clear out the room yesterday afternoon, we're going to have to get up early in order to finish.”
“Hold on a minute. Take it back to the start,” commanded Gary. “Are you trying to tell me that you've woken me up at sparrow's fart on a Sunday morning so I can empty the spare bedroom? You must be crazy. I'm going back to sleep.” He rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head and digging into the quilt. However, his pounding head and cardboard tongue prevented him from relaxing.
Another bout of beeping broke out, this time from across the room.
“I think that's your phone dear,” suggested Melinda with just the hint of a smile. “Why don't you get it?”
Gary groaned. “I can see I'm not going to get any more sleep this morning,” he grumbled as he stumbled out of bed.
Everything hurt. His legs and lower back were sore from the after-effects of the previous day's soccer match, his right foot throbbed, and his head pounded as a result of his night on the town. “But I don't think I'm going to be much good to anyone in this state.”
“It might be good for you,” suggested Melinda. “You'll need some practice operating in a sleep-deprived state for when the baby comes.”
“I'd rather put off the practice and just cope with it when the time comes.”
“How about this for a deal?” asked Melinda. “It's the best offer you're likely to get all day. If you go and get started on the bedroom, I'll whip up some bacon and eggs for breakfast. I'll chuck in a couple of Beroccas as well. That'll get you into the day, and hopefully we'll get the things done we need to.”
“I might need to take something before I start,” admitted Gary. “However, I did promise to do the painting, so I'll take you up on your offer.” He paused. “I’m sorry for last night as well. I did mean to come home straight after soccer. But I scored the winning goal and now we're in the Grand Final. The boys pestered me to come out. I was just going to have one drink but once I got there, I couldn't say no. I drank one, and then someone else put another drink in front of me.” He walked to Melinda’s side of the bed, knelt down and took her hand. “I'm sorry I didn't come home on time. I'm sorry I didn't call you to let you know where I was, and I'm sorry I didn't clean the baby's room last night. I'll try to make up for it today, even if it kills me.”
“By the look of you, it might actually do that,” laughed Melinda.
Gary looked at the results of his work with pride. Despite feeling sore and lethargic, he had worked diligently and made large inroads into his task of cleaning the spare room in preparation for painting. Most of the cleared debris stemmed from the numerous holidays taken over their nine years together. A pile of suitcases, photo albums and souvenirs from all corners of the globe stood in a neat pile in the hallway, ready to be placed in the attic.
He smiled at Melinda as he entered the kitchen. “Brekkie smells good. The room's looking good too. Another half hour and I think we'll be ready for painting, so there's no reason I shouldn't get this done today.”
Melinda returned his smile warmly as she carried his steaming plate to the table. “That sounds great. It’ll be a big load off my mind.”
Gary picked up his knife and fork. “Nothing but the best for you, my dear.” He tucked ravenously into the food on his plate. “This is good. It really hits the spot. Even though I've made some good progress this morning, I think I was running on empty.”
“Eat up then,” said Melinda. “You've got a busy day in front of you.”
He looked at her curiously. “I know it's an important job, although I'm not sure I understand why you're so keen to get it done today. We've still got a few weeks to go.”
“There are no guarantees about the timing - the baby could come tomorrow.” She patted her bulging belly. “Looking at the size of me, it's hard to imagine I could get much bigger. And besides, there are lots of other jobs that are waiting on this one. Now that I've finished work, I can potter around during the week in my own time and apply the finishing touches.”
Gary looked at her with concern. “Don't forget that Dr. Downing said you have to take it easy. After all, that's the reason you've finished work. You're meant to be putting your feet up to ensure your blood pressure doesn't rise any further.”
“The biggest thing that's likely to have an impact on my blood pressure is if you don't finish the painting.” Melinda smiled to show that she joked, although Gary could tell there was a degree of truth in the statement. “If I wait for you, the jobs will never get done. I won't push myself. Even if I only spend an hour or two a day, I'll be able to keep myself occupied plus continue to get ready.”
“Not long to go now,” said Gary. “Your blood pressure will drop, your belly will disappear and things will go back to normal.”
Melinda raised an eyebrow. “Back to normal? Are you joking?” She circled until she was opposite Gary and leaned forward with both hands on the table. “The changes are just about to start. Life as we know it will never be the same once this little bundle pops out.”
“How hard can it be?” Gary dipped the last piece of toast into the remains of his egg yolk and scoffed it down. “Sure, we might be sleep-deprived for a while, but that never hurt anyone.” He yawned. “Well, not much anyway. People have been having babies for thousands of years, and doing it without any of the modern conveniences we have. I'm sure we'll be fine.”
“That's not what my girlfriends tell me,” commented Melinda. “They divide their lives into two - Before Baby and After Baby – and if they are to be believed, there is no comparison between the two.”
Gary stood, wiping his mouth. “I'm sure we'll be able to cope,” he said as he turned and walked back to the bedroom.
Melinda dragged the sheet across the floor in an attempt to cover the carpet before Gary could spill any paint on it. He looked at her. “Sit down, love. You need to rest and leave me to paint.”
Melinda looked up. “I'm happy for you to do the painting. Just make sure you keep the floor covered.”
“No problem, Melinda. I'm going fine. Just relax. You can sit there and watch if you like.”
Melinda smiled at Gary. A surge of affection rose unbidden within her. Gary looked like a big kid, dressed in his daggiest tracksuit pants and a faded Billy Joel t-shirt. Blobs of paint were in evidence everywhere – on his shirt, on his pants and even one large smear across his left cheek. His thinning black hair was dishevelled and his paint-smudged face managed to simultaneously convey expressions of impish mischievousness and gentle concern.
Melinda sank into the large, padded armchair purchased for night feeds. She rested her feet on a convenient paint tin and eased her neck and head into the back of the chair. The long, slow strokes of the roller travelling up and down the wall possessed a strangely hypnotic quality. She sat in silence, her eyes following the roller's progress as it transformed the wall from a dull peach to a light and airy green.
“You look like you're falling asleep,” observed Gary.
Melinda sat up with a start. “Sorry – just day-dreaming, remembering how long it took to get pregnant.”
“I kind of miss those days,” said Gary. “Too much was never enough.”
Melinda laughed. “As I recall, you were doing it pretty tough. In fact -”
Melinda paused mid-sentence. She touched her thighs with her hands and sat up straight in her chair. She looked down at the ground.
“In fact what?” A look of concern crossed Gary's face. “Are you all right?”
“I'm all wet. I think my waters have broken.”
Monday, August 4, 2014
Genre: Fiction, General, African American, Mystery & Detective, Romance
Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-23-3
ISBN 10: 1939217237
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links.html
Twins Ellsa and Ellie are completely different in character, personality, taste and interests. Apart from the striking resemblance to each other, they share the one thing siblings shouldn’t…. the same taste in men.
They keep falling for the same man, creating a quiet rivalry between them. Determined not to let a man come between them ever again, Ellie and Ellsa agree to stay away from each others relationships. But when they meet Dale Carson, an FBI agent and a bachelor, their love lives are turned upside down.
But they aren’t the only ones taken by the rogue. His partner and long time lover, Gwen Johansson, also called dibs.
Carson is interested in only one of them. He is pulled by Ellie’s passion for love and art, and most importantly, him. What starts as a sexual chase, ends with his permanent retirement from bachelorhood.
But their love story is not a smooth one.
Carson’s day job comes knocking on his front door and before he knows it, his whole world is ripped apart.
Out of all the possible suspects, Ellie has the most evidence stacked up against her. She is implicated in the brutal murders of her ex-boyfriends, and Carson is faced with the horror of arresting the love of his life. With two suspects of his own, he is convinced she is being set up, but he has no way of proving it.
Bio for Christina OW:
I love reading novels that take me on a ride of wild emotions. Books have always been an escape for me, for a few hours I love to live the lives of characters I grow to cherish and admire. I’ve always had an active imagination and because of it I’ve lived in my head more than I have been in the outside world. I’ve always imagined scenarios and wondered how it would turn out in the end, and what kind of emotions it would invoke. I began writing down the many stories in my head in 2010.
I have a Diploma in Law and I’m currently in my last year for my BA in International Studies.
Writing was never a career path for me it was just a release as fashion design is my true passion, and now writing has become a vital part of me and my family as my twin sister (M.O.) is also a writer.
I hope to always continue with my love of writing no matter what the future holds for me.
Author Contact Info:
Facebook: Christina OW
Excerpt from Fatal Jealousy:
Ellsa turned to the man. He was one of the few men she liked at this thing. Who knew speed dating was so boring. If they’d thrown in a few rich men then she’d have something to talk to them about. She didn’t care about their children, ex-wives and their pathetic struggle to amount to something. She wasn’t a shrink!
These guys were more Ellie’s speed. She didn’t care what the guy had, just the man’s character. For Ellsa, if she couldn’t have love, she had no problem with the bank account. Love had never been kind to her.
But this guy seemed to have both. “Hi.”
He smiled shyly, “Hi. My name is Elvis Banks.”
Banks? Cliché but I can live with that. “I remember. I’m Ellsa Jabari.” She said flirtatiously.
“Would you like some more wine?” He offered nervously.
The man had the looks and the money to back it, but he had no presence. He was completely unsure of himself and probably easy to manipulate. She smiled, penthouse here I come! “No. I’m good. So how may I help you?”
He smiled, “You could write down a phone number for me.”
Ellsa pulled out her business card, “I hope this is your way of asking me out on a date?”
He took the card and glanced at it, “Actually I was hoping you’d give me your sister’s number.” He turned to where she was. She was holding a bottle of beer and laughing with the bartender. “She wouldn’t give it to me.”
Ellsa turned away from him, beyond annoyed! “Too bad, I don’t have it.”