Thursday, February 26, 2015

A Simple Life,really?!: Review: Growl by:Ashley Fontainne

A Simple Life,really?!: Review: Growl by:Ashley Fontainne:   About the Book: My name is Sheryl Ilene Newcomb. And yes, my initials are S.I.N. A funny little piece of whimsical humor my parents fo...

Friday, February 20, 2015

If Only by Norma Budden



Blurb/synopsis:

While still in high school, Demi gave birth to a baby girl and, feeling she had no other options, put her up for adoption. Having moved on with her life – gotten married and having had two other children – 16 years later, Demi Glenn suddenly cannot get her firstborn daughter out of her mind.

After hiring two private detectives but getting no solid information to go on, Demi turns to the one man who will not come back empty-handed, who will not give up until he finds the answers – David Alexander, a married father of two daughters – the father of the baby she had given up so long ago who had no idea he had sired a child as a teen. 

Together, will they be able to find their daughter without their families being torn apart or will fate intervene, upsetting their lives in a way they'd never dreamed in the pursuit of finding the daughter they can no longer live without? 


Excerpt:

David pulled into the parking lot of the building which housed Demi's accounting firm.
Why didn't I tell Krista I was coming here instead of saying I was running late? This situation is going to affect her, too. There's no way I can go through these emotions without talking to someone; they're all over the place.
Everything feels surreal, as if I'm walking and talking surrounded by fog. One conversation is all it took to turn life, as I knew it, upside-down.
I have to face it: life will never be the same as when I woke up this morning. If I can't find her, my questions will haunt me. I'll always wonder what she looks like, if she smiles a lot or seems sad most of the time. I'll wonder if she is healthy or sick, if she has a best friend or lives life as a loner, if she prefers to read or watch TV.
The biggest issues I'll have, though, refer to not knowing her name, having no idea where she is or whether she's in danger. The latter two would drive me out of my mind so there's no question that I have to find her, no matter how long it takes.
Finally, he opened the door of the car and stepped out, locking the door behind him with the push of a button. The mini beep of the horn confirmed the car was, indeed, locked. Walking with purpose across the parking lot, David tried to stop thinking about the enormity of his situation, his and Demi's situation.
After looking at the business directory, he knew Demi would be waiting on the seventh floor. For a moment he braced himself for what he might feel when he looked into her eyes.
Yes, he loved Krista and his daughters with all of his heart and soul – they were the air he breathed – but there had never been any closure between he and Demi. She just departed from his life without giving him a reason.
Momentarily clenching his hands, he headed towards the elevator that would take him to the seventh floor, toward a future which seemed far too uncertain for his liking. 

E-book price: $2.99

Purchase links:








Connect with Norma:

Twitter:    @NormaBudden     https://twitter.com/NormaBudden

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Sample Sunday - Whispered Pain

So excited to announce that the first book in The Magnolia Series - Blood Ties, is almost finished! Working on finalizing the last chapter this week! It has been an amazing experience writing this story in conjunction with my mother, Lillian Hansen. Our plan is to send it off for editing soon, and hopefully release it this summer. Here is the cover:


Since we are so close, I started work on another book called Whispered Pain. Originally a flash fiction piece of less than 1,500 words, the story of Angie Benson wouldn't let me go, so I plan on expanding it into a novel. My goal is to release it in November. Here is the cover:


And here is the unedited prologue:

     What does it mean to be alive? It's an age old conundrum with various answers. Some are universal. To touch, taste, smell, see, hear and feel. It might be the gentle fingers of a mother, stroking the soft skin of her newborn. Or, is it the taste of a sumptuous meal on your tongue? The smell of summer rain, freshly  cut grass, your lover's scent. Drinking in the vibrant colors of the sky at sunset, or the shimmering moon as it peaks over a snow covered mountain. The joyous squeals of children's laughter as they play without worry, still cocooned away inside naiveté. Experiencing a moment of pure ecstasy when you climax, or the soul crushing sorrow when you lose a loved one. The rush of endorphins flooding your body while bungee jumping or skydiving. 

      I could go on and on, but you get my drift. Being alive is all of those things, and a host of numerous others. What one person considers living may be the stuff of nightmares to another, but in the end, it's all about breathing. Blood flow. Heart beats. Sensation. Awareness. Consciousness. Thinking. Reasoning. 
     Living. 
     Why, are you wondering, do I pose such a loaded question? To stir debate? Engage your brain cells? Force a deep conversation about life in general? Oh, no, nothing so lofty. It's quite simple, really. I just want to know. Want to feel. Want to see. Want to anything again. 

     Because I'm lost, wandering, disoriented, disjointed and distorted. No longer associated with anything. The sensations of all senses elude me. Mere blips of faded memories I can't seem to grasp any longer tumble around me. I can't recall how it felt to be kissed. Hugged. What a belly laugh was like. How boredom felt. Anticipation. Grief. Joy. Regret. Sadness. Fear. Hunger. Bone weary tired. Nothing. I feel...nothing.

     Oh, did I fail to mention why?      Because I'm no longer among the living. At least, I don't think I am. To be honest, I'm not quite sure. I don't remember my name, my age, or even my sex. I don't feel. I can't smell. I hear, but sounds don't register emotional responses anymore. I see, but it's all in muted grays, no vibrant colors. Dead. Lifeless. Dull.
     No sense of time, space, awareness. I just...float. Yeah, float. Like a weightless cloud drifting through the limitless universe. No purpose. No destination. No set trajectory. No rhyme or reason.
I don't know where I am, how I arrived at this point, this unexplainable state. Ebony nothingness has swallowed me whole. I'm not sure of anything.

    Can you, will you, help me? I need to know. I want to know. I have to know.    Who am I? 
    Where am I?    How do I escape this black void? 
    Help.
    Please, help me. I'm begging you. 

 ****


     Light is back. Distant, but there. It ebbs and flows like the tides of the ocean. What? What did you say? It sounded like Angie. Speak louder. What does that mean? Is Angie my name? I don't know. Can't recall. Somehow, for some strange reason, it seems right. So, I'm female? Are you here to rescue me? Is your voice a cord, a link, to pull me free? Oh please, please let it be. 

     What? I can't understand you. Your voice is all wrong. The words are jumbled. Come back? Come back to me, Angie...are those the words? Yes, yes they are. I'm trying, but I don't know how. Can't you just come, whisk me to safety?
      Wait, who are you? Oh, I don't care, just keep talking. It makes the light brighter. I don't know if I'm moving closer to it, or it is coming toward me, but it isn't as far away as before.  Ouch, that hurts. Oh, God, I feel pain! Glorious pain! If I'm dead, I wouldn't be able to, right? The burn, the sting, do it again! It brings bursts of color! Reds, blues, greens. Chases the drab hues away. 
     Where did you go? Are you still there? I can't see you, don't hear your voice. Please, please, I'm begging you. Don't leave me here all alone. I'm scared. Terrified of the dark, the bone-chilling quiet.

****


     What's that sound? It's so familiar. The high pitched wails...oh, God, it's a baby! Keep crying, little one. Yes, that's it. Louder! I'm following, I'm coming. Your voice lets the light in. I see now! I recognize this place. The pink walls, the delicate scrolls on the wooden crib. The thick shag carpet, the sheer white curtains I helped Mom make. There you are, Amelia! I see you, and I know you!

     I remember. 
     Your chubby cheeks, stained red from crying, little hands balled into tight fists. You're wearing my favorite onesie, the one Aunt Melanie made you, with a matching nightgown for me. The yellow one with blue and green turtles. Where's Mom? Dad? Can't they hear you? It's okay, I'm coming. I'll hold you. Comfort you. Almost there. No, don't stop crying! The light is dimming. Wait, someone is coming. They'll take care of you, so please, ask them to help me! I'm here, right here. Can't you see me? Help! 
     What...what are you doing to Amelia? Don't...don't hold her like that. She's fragile, just a baby. She's slow, that's what Momma says. Who are you? Stop, put her down! Leave my baby sister alone. No! She can't breathe! You're smothering her. Mom! Dad! Hurry, help Amelia! Someone is trying to kill her. Oh, God, she's not breathing! She's all alone in her crib, her cheeks and hands are grayish blue.
      Momma! I'm so sorry. I couldn't help her, couldn’t stop him. Please, Momma, don't cry. You still have me. Can't you see me?