Showing posts with label Free. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Free. Show all posts

Thursday, September 4, 2014

A Gift for Chloe-what a great story!! What's this? Another release today as well? How to Have a Happy Marriage-Lindsay Harper Oh my!






Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 4, 2014
Digital ISBN-10:1631120662 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-066-4-ONLY Perma FREE

Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links.html





A Gift for Chloe
Her carefully ordered world is turning upside down…
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.

About Susan Lohrer

Susan Lohrer grew up in more towns in western Canada than she has fingers to count them on. She currently lives in southern BC with her husband of more than two decades, their two teenagers who are still at home, three dogs, and far more aquariums than a reasonable household should contain. She believes life is always better with a healthy dose of humor.

Twitter: @susanlohrer
E-mail: susan@susanlohrer.com


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Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction/Romance/Contemporary
Release Date: September 4, 2014
Digital ISBN-10:1631120646 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-064-0
Print ISBN-10:1631120654 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-065-7

Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links.html





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.

About the Author
Lindsay Harper lives in West Yorkshire, England with her husband and four Springer Spaniels. She has two grown up children and three grandchildren. She now writes full time and this is the third book in the ”How To …” romance series following best friends Robyn and Denizon through the trials and tribulations of life. When she’s not writing she practices Homeopathy and is a House Doctor. For fun she enjoys walks by the water, yoga, cooking, DIY, 60’s retro and anything romance.

How to contact the author
 Twitter -@harperpublishin
Facebook – LindsayHarperauthor
You Tube - Lindsay Harper How to Have an Affair

Excerpt of How to Have A Happy Marriage

Chapter 1

Bethany Forrester finished the last page and closed the book – “How to Have a Happy Marriage”. She sighed contentedly as she realised this book, out of the entire “How to…” series was the most relevant to her. She bought Jay Trethedick’s first book, “How to Have an Affair,” after seeing him on Breakfast Time last year. Even though she couldn’t personally relate to the topic she had been very impressed with his theories … plus he was very easy on the eye.
Sadly, the topic of divorce in his second book resonated all too well. Her divorce had not been amicable – far from it, and she could remember rushing through the three hundred pages just so she could tightly pack away all her memories of that time in a box and bury them deep.
But this book was different and each page had been a pleasure to read as it reminded her of the wonderful man she was now lucky enough to be married to. The first page always made her smile and she opened the book to read for the thousandth time, the Recipe for a Happy Marriage.
Ingredients
250grms Honesty
250grms Friendship
250grms Respect
250grms Faithfulness
1 tbl spoon of Sex
1 level tsp of Humour
A touch of Compromise
A pinch of Individuality
Instructions
Take a couple of individuals in love, add all ingredients, mix together and cook for the rest of your life on earth at 100%.
She thought the concept was so sweet and would love to meet the man who could write such sentiment. There were just two ingredients on the list she was missing, but only one of them played on her mind. The first was sex, but that didn’t really bother her, if she was honest. Adrian, her husband was approaching sixty – ten years her senior – and his sex drive started to diminish not long after his fiftieth birthday.
At first, she took it personally but eventually came to realise it was the pressure of running his own plumbing contractors business and being on call 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
She knew it was nothing to do with her, as whenever they took a well-deserved holiday and he relaxed, he couldn’t get enough – and she was usually glad when the fortnight was over so she could get some rest.
What did bother her was number one on the list of ingredients – honesty. She had been keeping a secret from everyone she had ever met for all her adult life. It was such a major part of her that, most of the time, she didn’t think about it, until at times like this when it reared its ugly head. One day I’ll tell someone but not yet … it’s not the right time. But sadly, it never was.
Just then her phone rang. It was Leo, her twenty-four year old son from her previous marriage.
‘Hi, Mum, can I borrow your car?’
‘Why? Where’s yours?’
‘Er …’
‘Let me guess, your dad’s borrowed it.’
‘His is in the garage. He promises to have it back this week.’
Beth had heard her ex-husband’s promises before.
‘But I need it to collect the girls from school.’
‘If I do that, can I?’
‘What’s the urgency? You usually walk to work or Adrian picks you up.’
Leo was one of Adrian’s best plumbers and had worked with his step-father since leaving school at sixteen.
‘Cat has got somewhere to go this morning.’ Cat was Leo’s live-in girlfriend who Beth had never really approved of. She reminded her too much of herself at that age. The girl was only eighteen and Beth was sure she was only with Leo to escape her controlling parents.
‘So it’s Cat that wants to borrow my car?’
‘Er … yes, but she daren’t ask you in case you said no.’
Beth sighed.
‘I could give her a lift, would that do?’
‘But that would mean her having to tell you where she’s going.’
‘Yes, is that a problem?’
‘I’ll have to ask her.’
‘Can’t you borrow your own car for a couple of hours?’
‘No, Dad’s gone away until Friday.’
‘So how’s he going to get his own car back today?’
‘Don’t bother, Mum, if it’s too much trouble. We don’t want to put you out.’
This is just so typical. I’m the bad guy again. I’m sure his perfect father could commit double homicide and Leo would defend him.
‘Okay, I suppose so … could she have it back by school time?’
‘Thanks, Mum, you’re the best.’
‘Only when you want something.’
‘Don’t be like that. You know you love me really.’
That’s the problem – sometimes I think I love you too much.
‘What time are you coming to collect it?’
‘I thought you could drop it off on your way to work.’
‘Did you now, and how pray am I going to get to work?’
‘Cat will drop you off.’
‘Okay, I’m just getting ready. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.’
‘Can you make it half-an-hour. Her appointment’s at ten in Glastonbury.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
So instead of the leisurely breakfast she planned, she ran upstairs to take a quick shower. Adrian always dropped the girls at school on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday when Beth worked. It saved her dashing around and gave her an hour to get her head together before her busy day. She had recently cut her hours down to three days during the week and all day Sunday since appointing the most brilliant manager for her thriving little coffee house on the high street in Street, Somerset.
Up to the beginning of the year, she had worked seven days a week trying to get the business established. When she took it on, it was an ailing cafe serving a menu of fat, fat and more fat. She had completely refurbished the inside with her husband and invented a whole new healthy menu.
It had taken a while for the locals to get used to eating paninis instead of bacon butties with lard, but eventually, they had seen the light and she had built up quite a regular clientele of tourists and visitors alike. Now she loved going to work and was finally living her dream instead of feeling the burden and stress of the stone around her neck she felt at the beginning.
Lunchtimes were the busiest times and she always liked to be in before ten to help the chef prep the salads and make the soup of the day. Between the three of them, the Cafe Sorrento was finally making the profit she had told her bank manager would be achievable when he finally granted her the business loan over a year ago.
By nine-fifteen she was on her way to her son’s flat. He only lived ten minutes away, but traffic on the Glastonbury road was usually busy until at least ten o’clock. Cat was waiting outside, looking at her watch as Beth pulled up.
‘Thanks, Mrs F. You’re a life saver,’ Cat said as she got in the driver’s side.
‘So what’s with all the secrecy?’ Beth asked.
Cat didn’t speak as she looked in the mirror before pulling out into the traffic.
‘Are you okay, Cat? You look a bit pale.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I’m sure they can cope without me at work for a while.’
Cat hesitated. ‘Er … no, I’ll be fine.’
Beth couldn’t imagine it could be anything other than some sort of hospital appointment because if it was something simple like an interview it wouldn’t be shrouded in such secrecy.
‘Well if you’re sure. Leo could’ve asked Adrian for the day off, you know.’
‘We didn’t want to make a fuss.’
‘Watch out for that car!’ Beth braced herself waiting for the impact, but luckily, Cat’s young reflexes were sharp and she pulled up with inches to spare. Everything tumbled off the back seat into the foot wells.
‘Sorry Mrs F, maybe I shouldn’t be driving.’ Cat pulled the car onto the side of the road.
‘Don’t worry. It’s always mad at this time in a morning. Everyone goes too fast.’ Beth reached across and stroked Cat’s arm. At that moment she seemed no older than Beth’s youngest daughter … so naive and vulnerable.
‘Please don’t ask me anything, but will you drop me off at West Mendip Community Hospital? I’ll get a taxi home.’
Beth was desperate to know what was going on but she respected Cat’s wishes and said, ‘Of course I will. I’m here if you need to talk or I’ll come and collect you.’
‘Thank you, that’s kind.’
They swapped places again and Cat reached into the back to retrieve all her handbag contents that were strewn about the floor and under the seats.
‘I think I’m missing a lip gloss. If you find one, it’s mine.’
‘I’ll have a look when I get back to work.’
Beth pulled up in the visitor’s car park. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?’
Cat shook her head. Her hands were shaking as she opened the door. Just before getting out she reached across and kissed Beth’s cheek.
‘Thanks, Mrs F, for being so nice. I know we haven’t always seen stuff the same way but you’re really cool for a mum.’
‘That’s sweet of you to say, and remember if you want me to come back for you, I will. Just ring me anytime.’
Cat closed the door behind her and walked off as slowly as if she was heading a funeral cortège.
Beth was reluctant to leave her in this state. But what more could she do?  So as soon as Cat disappeared through the revolving doors, she drove away. She parked in her usual car parking space outside work and remembered that Cat had asked her to look for the rogue lip gloss. Under her seat all she found was an old Maynard wine gum, which she was tempted to eat, as it was a red one – her favourite colour. The lip gloss was under the passenger seat hidden under a paper tissue. As she reached along the floor, fumbling for the lip gloss, her fingers touched a piece of card. She pulled it out and saw it had the Marie Stopes logo on the front and an appointment for ten o’clock.
‘Shit!’ She slammed the car door, forgetting to lock it and ran into work.
‘Can you cope without me for a bit? I’ve got somewhere urgent to go,’ she asked Carol, her manager.
‘Yes, of  course Are you okay?’
‘I am, but someone else isn’t. I haven’t time to explain now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ Beth turned round and dashed to her car, speeding back up the Old Wells Road to the hospital. She turned on the hands free kit and rang Leo’s number.
‘Hi, Mum, did Cat get off okay?’
‘Do you know where she’s going?’
‘Of course I do. Why, do you?’ he asked tentatively.
‘Yes. I’ve found her appointment card. Why is she going to the Marie Stopes clinic?’
‘Oh fuck! We didn’t want to tell anyone until it was all over.’
‘You mean you’re letting your girlfriend have a termination and you can’t even be bothered to go with her?’
‘She said she’d be fine, and we’ve got a big plumbing job on.’
Beth couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. ‘How can you be so selfish? Have you any idea what the poor girl’s going through?’
‘Chill, Mum. It’s no big deal.’
‘No big deal! How dare you. I thought I’d brought you up better than that. It will be the worst ordeal of her life so far, and I doubt anything will ever beat it. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll drop what you’re doing and get to that hospital by any means you can. I’ll see you there.’
‘Okay … okay. I get it, you’re mad, but don’t take it out on me. She told me she was on the pill. We don’t want a baby … she wants to get rid of it as well.’
Beth couldn’t speak for the tears.
‘Mum, are you still there? … Why are you so upset?’
‘I’ll see you soon.’
So much for burying my feelings deep underground in a box. It was over thirty-five years ago, yet right now she felt as bad as when she was waiting for them to call her name. Then, she didn’t have a friendly face offering to go with her … she had an angry, disappointed mother who, all the while in the waiting room, kept telling her she’d brought disgrace on the family.
Poor Cat … she was facing this ordeal all alone. As Beth got out of her car she saw it was already ten thirty. Please be running late! Quickly, asking the receptionist where the clinic was being held, she ran to the lift. Typical, the clinic’s at the other end of the bloody corridor. She was out of breath as she rang the buzzer to be let into reception.
‘I’m looking for Miss Catherine … er … Sykes,’ Beth asked the receptionist.
‘And you are?’
‘Her partner’s mother. He’s been held up in traffic and is on his way.’
‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait here. She’s already gone into surgery.’
Beth put her head in her hands and sobbed.
‘Are you okay? Would you like a glass of water?’ The receptionist came round the desk and led Beth to a seat.
‘Sorry. I would please. Is it too late to change her mind?’
The receptionist paused and, trying to be as gentle as she could said, ‘She doesn’t want to change her mind. You know this isn’t her first appointment. We do an awful lot of counselling before we carry out any procedure … Do you want to talk to someone?’
‘I’ve never talked to anyone in thirty-five years.’
‘So wouldn’t now be a good time to start?’
Beth didn’t go back into work – she couldn’t – she felt totally drained. After dropping Cat and Leo back at their flat she went home to be by herself … her staff could cope – it was only one day. While the kettle was boiling, she kept looking at the card on the kitchen work top reminding her of the counselling appointment the receptionist had made at a sister clinic … thirty-five years too late. After making herself a strong coffee, she went to sit in the beautiful conservatory looking out over her long cottage garden with distant views of Glastonbury Tor and thought about her morning.
She expected Cat to be devastated after her procedure, but all she saw on the young face was relief. Beth could understand why she didn’t want a baby at eighteen … she hadn’t wanted one at thirteen, but unlike Cat, she couldn’t go through with it. She had screamed and shouted so much, embarrassing her mother even more, that the whole trip was aborted not the baby.
Luckily, it was the 1970’s and most of the mother and baby units had closed down which meant Beth had to stay at home – a prisoner in her own house for nine months. The baby girl was taken off her at birth and given to deserving parents and the whole sorry incident was never mentioned again. Beth continued her education and was a good girl until she found someone to marry her and then she was off, at not much older than Cat was now.
Beth sat in the same armchair all day until it was time to collect her two precious girls from school. What she couldn’t give her first little girl she lavished on the two she had. Leo was always accusing her of spoiling them and treating them better than she ever treated him. She knew he was speaking the truth, but she couldn’t help it. She had to make it right somehow.
Tuesday was hectic after school – Amy, who was eight, had ballet and tap and Annabelle, who was the eldest at ten, had choir and gymnastics. Eddie Stobart’s Logistical Haulage Contractors couldn’t do a better job of organising the schedule than she did. Each activity was precisely planned down to the last second, and if it all went without a hitch – which it usually did– they were back in the house totally exhausted by eight o’clock, ready for supper and bed.
Adrian supervised bed-time while Beth made the evening meal.
‘Ooh … I know what I forget to tell you. You know that author you’ve just been reading, he’s appearing at the Glastonbury Christmas Book and Craft Festival,’ Adrian said as he sat down at the table to a plate of home-made moussaka.
‘You mean Jay Trethedick?’
‘Yes, that’s him.’
‘Wow. Do you know how I can get any tickets?’
‘Da … da.’ Adrian said as he pulled two tickets out of the back pocket of his work trousers. ‘It’s for his Creative Writing workshop.’
‘How did I manage to be married to the most wonderful man in the world?’ Beth walked round the table and gave her husband a kiss.
‘Just lucky I guess?’
‘Are you coming with me?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think it’s really my thing. I got two tickets in case you wanted to take a friend, or maybe you could invite your mother?’
‘What? So I could hear her moan about how he wasn’t as good as her favourite author. No, she’d only spoil it … I might see if Cat would like to come with me. I think I made a breakthrough with her today.’
‘So tell me what’s been going on with Leo today? He ran off site like a man possessed.’
‘Let’s finish eating first. It’s a long story and might put me off my food.’
For the rest of the meal they kept the conversation light – with Adrian doing most of the talking about his day of plumbing. At times like this she was glad she really loved him, as it was the only reason she would tolerate hearing about a dripping stop-tap and sticking ball-cocks.
‘So?’ Adrian said as they took two cups of coffee into the lounge.
‘Leo rang me this morning to ask me if he could borrow my car. It turned out it was actually Cat who needed it to go to a hospital appointment. You’ll never believe, she was only having an abortion on her own! So I phoned Leo and told him to get down there if he knew what was good for him. I’m sorry if it left you in the lurch.’
‘No, we managed. He never said anything … An abortion and you knew nothing?’
‘I don’t think I’d know now if she hadn’t dropped the appointment card in my car. When I dropped her off I could tell something was bothering her, but I never guessed it would be that. What are we going to do with him?’
‘I don’t know what you mean. What can we do with him? He’s a grown man.’
‘But fancy, letting the poor girl suffer all that on her own. I thought I’d taught him better than that.’
‘Have you spoken to him?’
‘Not on his own. I tried to be gentle with them both when I collected her. Apparently, she hasn’t even told her mum she was pregnant.’
‘Do you want me to have a word with him, man-to-man?’
‘I don’t know what to do. I’m only sorry he felt he couldn’t talk to me about it first.’
‘He probably thought you’d try and talk them out of it.’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Because I thought you didn’t agree with abortions?’
‘No, that’s not true. I wouldn’t have one, but I don’t think it’s right to interfere in anyone else’s decision.’
Adrian raised his eyebrows. ‘At the risk of having my head bitten off, is that strictly true?’
‘Why do you know me so well?’ She laughed. ‘I suppose I might have put forward the alternative viewpoint.’
‘Hence, why they didn’t tell you.’
‘But Leo tells me everything … or he used to before he started going out with Cat.’
‘Is that why you’ve never warmed to her... because she took away your baby boy?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve not thought of that before … but maybe. I saw a different side of her today … I think I may have misjudged her.’
‘I’ve always liked her. I think she’s good for him. He’s so laid back … I’m sure some days he’d never get out of bed.’
‘Yes, she does seem to motivate him, and he does love her.’
‘I know you think she’s using him, but I think she loves him as well.’
‘From now on I will try harder. I never want a repeat of today.’
‘I assume they don’t either … But don’t you think it was sensible of them? Neither of them is ready for a baby, she’s only eighteen – far too young to be thinking about motherhood. They’ve got the rest of their lives to have children.’
‘But sometimes these things happen and you can’t get rid of something just because it’s not quite the right time.’
‘Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to be heartless. Has today upset you more than you’re letting on?’
‘I suppose it’s been such a shock … I could’ve been a grandma,’ she said resting her chin in her hands.
‘You’re too young to be a grandma. I, on the other hand, am just the right age to be a granddad. I keep hoping Toby will tell me he’s ready to settle down.’
‘I doubt that. He’s too busy travelling the world.’
‘But he’s thirty-five next birthday.’
‘You were nearly fifty when we had Annabelle.’
‘I know. I’m hoping he doesn’t take after me.’
‘Surely two young girls is enough for anyone your age?’ She laughed.
‘Oy, watch it! I think we’d better change the subject! … Do you want to watch something on television?’
‘Is there anything on?’ She picked up TV Chat and looked.
‘I love you, Bethany Forrester.’ He winked at her.
‘And I love you, “The man for any job”… Here’s the remote, you choose.’
When Adrian’s snoring got so unbearably noisy it was agreed that Beth would sneak out of bed and go sleep in the guest bedroom – tonight was one of those nights. It didn’t help that Beth’s mind was working a double shift. During a large percentage of her day to day life, she could put to the back of her mind the little girl she had given away by pretending it never happened to her – it happened to a friend. But after everything that had transpired during the past twelve hours, putting it out of her mind was impossible.
Over the years she had been tempted on so many occasions to search for her daughter, but was too terrified of the outcome. Maybe today was an omen. It was also one of the main reasons she had agreed to go for counselling. The receptionist at the Marie Stopes clinic said all the ramifications of the adoption could be discussed at the appointment and any help she needed could be given to her then.
Ever since Beth had given her baby up for adoption she had kept a diary of her life – so one day the daughter she couldn’t keep could learn all about her birth mother. She hadn’t written in it every day. In fact, she had hardly written in it this year. It was hidden on the bottom shelf of the airing cupboard in a pillow case. She had chosen that specific hideaway because she could guarantee no-one would ever choose to change their bedding or towels voluntarily.
Without putting the landing light on, she crept along the hallway and opened the door to the airing cupboard. Sliding her hand along the bottom shelf she felt for something hard. She pulled the pillow case containing the diary out from underneath a thick pile of towels and crept back to the guest bedroom to read it. The diary was a loose-leaf A5 Filofax which had been added to over the years – it was now over three hundred pages long. In the past she’d thought about publishing it, because even though she said so herself, it was a scintillating read. Maybe, I could have a word with Jay Trethedick and ask for his advice when I go and see him. Only a month to go before I meet my hero. Come on, no daydreaming. You need to write about today.
She opened the diary at a clean page and started to write.
Dear Denise,
‘Well, what a day …’





Monday, August 18, 2014

New Short Book coming Soon.



Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 4, 2014
Digital ISBN-10:1631120662 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-066-4

A Gift for Chloe
Her carefully ordered world is turning upside down…
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, March 20, 2014

Looking for a Quick, Free Read, Ghostly Style? Check this one out.




FREE


Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction, Ghost
Release Date: March 20, 2014
Digital: ISBN: 13: 978-1-63112-017-6 ISBN: 10: 1631120174


FREE




Desperado:
A haunted mallet. A spooky song. An old west ghost story. Can Shelby survive a family camping trip or will the ghost of past misdeeds come calling?

Shelby didn’t want to go on the family camping trip with her parents and baby sister Rhea. Sitting around telling ghost stories couldn’t be more boring, even if one of the stories is supposedly true. When she accidently gets a scrape on her finger from the wooden mallet that is the heart of her mother’s ghost story, and not to mention also a bloodstained antique from the cowboy days, Shelby gets a glimpse of what she may have unwittingly unleashed into modern times. With the help of her family, Shelby must try to piece together the story of the haunted mallet and a certain song by the Eagles that keeps playing ... and playing ... and playing – before this Texas-sized ancestral ghost story takes a turn that just might be headed down a dead end. 


About Sara Barnard
Sara Barnard, who was most likely born into the wrong century, is mother to four awesome children. In addition to Rebekah’s Quilt, she has authored the historical romance Everlasting Heart series, consisting of bestselling A Heart on Hold, which was also a 2012 RONE award finalist, A Heart Broken, A Heart at Home, and A Heart Forever Wild – all from 5 Prince Publishing. She also writes for the younger among us. Chunky Sugars is a picture book from 5 Prince Kids and her independently published children’s nonfiction titles, The ABC’s of Oklahoma Plants and The Big Bad Wolf Really Isn’t so Big and Bad, have hit bestseller lists several times. She and her family make their home in the far reaches of the west Texas desert with the Javalina, mesquite trees, and of course, lots and lots of oil.


Where to find Sara:
facebook.com/sarabarnardbooks
Twitter: @TheSaraBarnard


Excerpt of Deperado:
“Okay let’s have a contest to see who can tell the scariest story.” Mom’s voice was much too chipper for my taste. She was all into this camping stuff, but there was nowhere for me to plug in my curling iron, so I could care less about being out here.
The flames from the fire danced, as though alive, as I shot a pained look at Dad. Showing off his trademark grin, Dad gave me a wink and tiny nod as if to say, humor your mother, she loves you.
Defeated, I pulled my old holey blanket around my shoulders and tried to ignore the encroaching shadows that looked to be dancing with the flickering firelight.
My baby sister Rhea straightened her back and leaned forward in her camp chair. “I’ll go first,” she chirruped. Rhea’s seven-year-old voice tried to sound scary and her blue eyes widened as she began her tale. “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away...”
I stuffed a whole s’more into my mouth.
Rhea held her hands up like claws. “There was a blue, no wait, make that a green bird.” She looked from face to face until she got to mine. “No, not a bird, a sister.”
I rolled my eyes as the corners of my mouth twitched upward.
Unfazed, Rhea continued. “The green sister was silly.” She dropped her voice low. “And I mean very, very, very silly.” She dropped her claw-hands into her lap, sat back in the camp chair, and grinned. “The end.”
Mom and Dad applauded wildly. I hid my ghost of a smile behind a nose twitch and passed Rhea another gooey s’more. “That was pretty good, Sissy,” I commended. “Take a few storytelling classes and you’ll be as good as Stephen King someday.”
The fact that I adored my baby sister was no secret, and I flattered myself to think that the feeling was mutual.
Rhea blew her blonde bangs up in a dramatic huff. “Shelby, do you always have to talk about him?” Her voice was an octave away from a full-on whine. “That movie he wrote scared me.” She glanced over her shoulder and scooted closer to Dad.
I crossed my legs. “Rhea, he writes books. Not movies.” It was an old argument the two of us shared ever since she snuck in and hid behind the couch while I was watching Pet Sematary one night. Rhea had watched the entire thing before I discovered her back there, terrified. She’d been sleeping in my room ever since then. “They make movies based on his books—”
“Ahem.” I could feel Mom glaring at me. My cheeks burned as the rest of my sentence fizzled, forgotten. Busted.
“We will talk about movie rules when we get home tomorrow, young ladies,” she said sternly. “As for now, who wants to hear a scary story? A true, scary story.”
“I do. Oh, Mommy, I do,” Rhea trilled in her normal, singsong voice. She scooted a little closer to Mom.
Dad rose from his camp chair. “If you ladies will excuse me, I think I will go find a tree right quick.” Turning, he trotted off into the shadowy woods.
Mom cut her gaze to me. “Shelby, are you up to it?”
I nodded and scooted in a tad bit closer to the fire.
Mom pulled her pink camouflaged backpack into her lap. “Good. Well, when I was a little girl, we were at a family reunion, not too far from here.” She gestured widely with her arm toward the west. “Before we left for the hour’s ride home, my mom, grandmother, great-grandmother, and I stopped at a garage sale on the edge of town. The house itself looked like it was out of a Stephen King novel––boarded up windows, creaky wooden front door swinging to and fro, peeling paint––the works.” She glanced at me. I smiled. She knew I was eating this up.
Mom leaned in and shifted her gaze back to Rhea. “Your great-great grandmother noticed that the homeowner was in a hurry to sell everything off. When she started poking around in a box of kitchenware, he accepted twenty-five cents for the whole box of stuff. Antiques, he said they were.”
The fire glinted off Mom’s face, making her wide eyes sparkle even more than they usually did. Rhea’s mouth hung open, a bit of marshmallow stuck to her cheek. A rogue arctic blast suddenly swept through our campsite, sending a collective shiver through all three of us. I tugged at the ends of my blanket and snuggled down deeper into my camp chair, taking care to not look into the dark woods behind me.
“Antiques?” Rhea asked through sticky lips. “What’s that?”
“The man told Great Gran that the stuff she bought had come west with his grandparents by way of a wagon train. Everything in that box was all that had survived a hellish campfire accident on their journey from the Pennsylvania.”
Rhea was sticking and unsticking her fingers. “Oh. Okay.”
Mom slowly slid up the zipper of her backpack. “Well, on the ride home, we had the radio on while your great-great grandma sorted through her box of treasures. She gave a purple glass bottle marked 1806 to my mom, a strange little garlic press to me, and a tiny tin snuff can to my grandma. From the very bottom of the box, she pulled out this.”
Mom reached into her backpack and drew out a weird looking wooden kitchen instrument.
“Is that a mallet?” I asked, letting my eyes rove over the little tool. “And what’s that stain? Is it ...” I gulped. “Blood?”
Mom nodded. “Yes and yes. The wagon train came under attack by a bad outlaw after the campfire accident. His grandma grabbed this mallet and swung it to kill, knocking the desperado’s black hat clean off his head. As Great Gran told the story to us in the car, the song on the radio changed to Desperado by The Eagles.”
“Oh, I love The Eagles,” I cooed.
Ignoring me, Mom continued. “While she told the story, Great Gran somehow managed to cut her finger on the mallet. Probably on this rough spot right here.” Mom slowly held the mallet out to me.
Equally slow, I reached to feel the spot she spoke of. The world around me melted into the blackness of the night as I touched the ancient piece of wood.
Oh did we mention that is is FREE?

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Launch Day For Christine Steendam-Owned by the Ocean


Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction, Action, Adventure, Historical, Romance, Sea Stories
Release Date: January 16, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-004-6 ISBN 10:1-63112-004-2

Owned By the Ocean
Brant’s life is planned for him. He will attend the best academic school in England, run his father’s estate, and marry well. But, with the sea calling to him, and a father that treats him more like a soldier to be commanded than a son, he takes off to find his own destiny.
What Brant doesn’t know, is that the sea is a cruel mistress, and once she owns you she won’t let you go.




Christine started writing when she could put pen to paper and form words. Now, many years later, not much has changed. Her stories are romances that you can relate to with a little bit of adventure mixed in. She enjoys writing flawed but loveable characters and more often than not a horse or two will find their way in as well.
Christine makes her home in Manitoba, Canada on a sprawling 15 acre ranch with her sons, husband, and many animals.







Excerpt of Owned by the Ocean:
England- 1660

Brant looked up from his scribbler at his teacher who was droning on about something to do with the politics behind the colonization of the new world... or was it the precarious peace with Spain? Either way, he didn’t really care. Time was moving at a snail’s pace. Every tick of the clock sounded like a hammer hitting an anvil, the boy two rows down was scratching his head. Brant was pretty sure he had lice. In front of him another boy was drumming his fingers incessantly. Every noise and movement was grating and more in focus than Mr. Johnson’s teaching.
Brant shut out everything around him and looked down at the open page of his scribbler. He was supposed to be writing notes but instead the page was covered with carelessly doodled shapes or words that had nothing to do with what Mr. Johnson was teaching.
At sixteen, Brant Foxton had no interest in the politics, grammar, or math that filled each and every day at the school for young men he attended. All he wanted was to leave the masquerade called London society and sail. He had expressed this desire many times over to his father, Sir Calvin Foxton, but he would hear nothing of it.
Calvin Foxton had served his King faithfully for many years in both the army and then as a member of his council. He had been knighted when Brant was but five years old, a moment in history that he could remember being filled with excitement and honor for his father. Too bad it didn’t take long for Brant to realize that he was treated more like a soldier than a son.
This past year, after many attempts at convincing his father to allow him to attend the royal naval academy, Brant had been sent to a prestigious boarding school in the heart of London where he was to be polished and educated for service to the crown as the gentleman his family name required. There would be no sails, sword or pistols in Brant's future. Instead it held paper work, money and bowing and scraping before the King. That was the life of nobility in England and that was to be the life of Brant Foxton. That was his father's plan.
Brant stopped his doodling and looked around. Some of the boys were asleep, others intently taking notes and listening to the teacher. Most of the boys at this school were everything their parents expected them to be. The picture of young men of society, they walked and talked exactly as they were instructed, turned their noses up at those less fortunate than them, and flaunted money—that many didn’t have but their name allowed them to pretend—like it was their job. They were raised to outwardly respect someone like Brant due to his family's status but many whispered behind his back or snickered over their afternoon tea. Brant was an anomaly, someone who didn’t care about prestige, money, and would very willingly throw it all away for a chance at a different future.
Brant was not an overly kind boy, nor humble. He hated his father and family name, he hated the school and the teachers, he hated the boys who hid behind masks their parents had forced on them, and most of all he hated that he was considered to be among them. He was better than this and he knew it. He was better than the acting and the back stabbing that he saw among the boys.
London was full of hypocrites. Brant may be blatantly cavalier and didn’t give a damn, but the boys he went to school with participated in the same activities, but behind well-kept facades. No one but themselves and perhaps their closest friends knew about the things they did that their family would disapprove of. But they all did them. Brant had seen the older boys get drunk and steal things from the younger ones. He had seen, and been a victim of, their bullying behind closed doors. But they all hid it from the outside world, from prying eyes. To the public, to the teachers, they were everything young gentlemen should be. Everyone but Brant Foxton.
The class was dismissed and Brant left the room in a shuffle of feet and a murmur of voices. Politics had been the last class of the day and they now had the evening for free time until dinner was called. Brant went up to his room that he shared with two other boys and, lying on his bed, pulled out a military strategy book he had taken from the library. There was no military strategy class offered since the boys that went here didn't need to know about battle formations and military hierarchy. But, the library carried books on the subject and Brant spent his free time educating himself on everything he would need to know to join the navy. He hoped that with the knowledge he gained from reading he would be able to make his way through the ranks quickly and become an officer in short order. Of course his father would not even consider forgiving him until he made Captain, then perhaps he could consider Brant was upholding the family name in an honorable fashion. But, until he was prepared, he would remain in school and learn what he could, then take his leave and endure his father's disapproval.
Things had changed when Brant's mother passed away six years earlier. Calvin had become hard on his son, without his gentle wife to keep him in line. Brant's brother; James, who was now six, was mostly taken care of by a nurse and the maids. Calvin Foxton didn't have much time for his youngest son, not when he was reminded of his wife, who had died giving birth to him, every time he saw him. Brant guessed that his mother was the only person Calvin Foxton had ever been gentle with. He had been young when his mother passed, only ten, but from what he remembered she was a kind woman, and had truly loved her husband, which was not something he saw often among other couples.
It had been an arranged marriage, as many of them were, and Suzanne had been ten years Calvin's junior. However, they had fallen in love during their years together, and Brant was certain his father would have given Suzanne Foxton anything she wanted. If she gave him even a disapproving look when Calvin adopted his military background with his son he would immediately melt and become a loving and kind father. That had disappeared when Suzanne passed away. Suddenly there was only military discipline and his father was detached from him in every way. No longer did Brant have loving parents but instead he had a commander and he was nothing more than a delinquent soldier. It had been a drastic change that had embittered Brant towards his father. He was convinced that if his mother was alive he would have been allowed to join the Royal Navy. She had always wanted what was best for Brant and what would make him happy in the long run. Calvin would have nothing to do with that now. The military was not the place for his son, especially the sea. There was nothing glamorous about being an officer, Captain, or Commodore. They were respected if they served the King well and had some kind of military genius that brought them to his attention but otherwise they were just another civil servant making low pay and risking their lives for honor that Brant shouldn't have to earn any longer. He was born with it.
Leo, one of his roommates walked in, took one look at Brant and laughed. “All you ever do is study those useless books. That won't help you at all with your marks here.”
“I don't really care about my marks here.”
“You should. Your father is going to beat you if you fail.”
Brant laughed. “He can try. I'm getting a bit old for him to slap around.”
Leo was two years Brant's senior and had two years left in the school. He was looking to take over his father's business in Jamaica where he owned a sugar cane plantation.
Out of all the boys in school, Leo was probably the only one Brant considered a friend. In society Leo was what every young man should be, but in his circle of friends he was better known as a womanizer and a gambler. When his father sent him money, Leo made his way to a local brothel where he spent time with Claire, a pretty little blonde that had been used one too many times and had a sad look behind her eyes. He was kind to her though, and when he went out with the guys he would invite her along. Although her company was paid for, she was accepted among them as a friend. One couldn’t help the circumstances life had dealt someone.
When the money didn't come Leo would pull out his charm and woo a pretty second or third class girl that dreamed of a man like Leo coming along and marrying her, turning her into a real lady. It was never going to happen though. And every time, it was the same, hopeful laughter turning into disappointed tears. It bothered Brant that Leo could be so self-absorbed, yet he considered himself fortunate to be his friend.
Leo was kind enough to most of the boys, but he enjoyed putting some of the more pompous pricks in their place. When Brant had started out his year Leo had considered Brant just one of those; a pompous prick who curtailed off his daddy and thought himself better than everyone else. But, for the most part, Leo was humble and kind. He never considered other boys inferior, even if society deemed them so, and always treated everyone with respect. Even outside of society he seemed to ignore the boundaries and distinction and class and mingled without prejudice. That was what Brant liked about Leo. And for that, he overlooked his friend’s less than upstanding behavior.
Leo and Brant were not so fortunate as to have the third boy who shared their room follow their life philosophies. Robert was a second year student, right between Brant and Leo. He was self-important and had delusions of grandeur. His family was on the verge of losing everything, and everyone knew it. Yet, they held onto their expensive taste, threw just as many dinner parties as before, and turned up their noses at anyone they considered beneath them. They sent Robert to school on their good name and credit, but he strutted the halls as if his father was the King himself and treated the younger boys with such disdain that you would have thought them his servants. He never said a word to Brant or Leo after he discovered they had no interest in playing along. Instead, they took every opportunity to take him down a notch. A biting comment or a prank usually managed to put him in his place for a short time.
“Are you going home for Christmas?” asked Brant, looking up from his book.
Leo too had lay down on his bed and was studying his arithmetic. He looked over at Brant. “Of course. I believe my father is coming to get me next week. Are you?”
“I suppose. My father hasn't visited me except that one time I got in trouble for pouring ink down Robert's jacket.”
Leo chuckled, presumably at the memory of Robert’s face turning a plum shade of purple from anger and embarrassment. “He's a tough one but I'm sure he only wants what's best for you.”
Brant scoffed, “What's best for me? Perhaps, but he has a very narrow view of what's best.”
Leo put down his book and sat up. “I like you, Brant, but I also think you're in serious need of an attitude adjustment. You father has worked very hard to get where he is now and you don’t appreciate what he has given you. He doesn't want his life for you. The navy is not easy and often ends in tragedy. Take the easy way. Your father worked hard so you would have the best things in life.”
“It's not about status and courts and money to me. I don't want to be stuck in a life where everyone plays a role and wears a mask. I want adventure and freedom.”
“Then you are naive. You think adventure is glamorous? If so I think you will find yourself disappointed. This life isn't so bad. I have fun still.”
“But your parents, anyone outside of your circle of friends has no idea what you're truly like.”
“That's not true. I still act like myself; I just choose to practice discretion in revealing some of my less than appropriate habits. Speaking of which, my father sent some money again. Would you like to go play some cards?”
Brant looked back at his book for a moment then sighed, “Why not? It's that or stay here reading.”
Leo laughed. “That's the spirit. Come on let’s dig into your trust fund a little and make use of some of your father's hard earned money.”