Cover Reveal-How to Have a Happy Marriage – Lindsay Harper

Cover Reveal


How to Have A Happy Marriage

Lindsay Harper


happy marriage cover reveal


Genre: Fiction/Romance/Contemporary

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.





Press Release For Bridge of Hope by Lisa J Hobman

Press Release


Bridge of Hope

by Lisa J Hobman


bridge of hope


Available from 5 Prince Publishing

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 :



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.

On Mallory.

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?



About Lisa J Hobman

Lisa is a happily married Mum of one with two crazy dogs.  She especially enjoys being creative; has worked as a singer and now runs her own little craft business where she makes hanging signs and decorations for the home. Lisa and her family recently relocated from Yorkshire, England to their beloved Scotland; a place of happy holidays and memories for them.

Writing has always been something Lisa has enjoyed, although in the past it has centered on poetry and song lyrics.  The story in her debut novel has been building in her mind for a long while but until the relocation, she never had the time to put it down in black and white; working full time as a High School Science Learning Mentor and studying swallowed up any spare time she had.  Making the move north of the border has given Lisa the opportunity to spread her wings and fulfill her dream.  Writing is now a deep passion and she has enjoyed every minute of working towards being published.  Novels two and three are works in progress so watch this space!



How to contact Lisa J Hobman:!/LisaJHobmanAuthor



Excerpt of Bridge of Hope:

Chapter One

January 2011

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.

Sobering thought.

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.

June 2010

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.

Stupid fears.

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.


Cover Reveal For Vivian, by Bernadette Marie

Cover Reveal Launch Kit



The Three Mrs. Monroes

Bernadette Marie




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.


LAUNCH – A Painted Room-Pete Abela

Press Release


A Painted Room

Pete Abela

painted room

Available from 5 Prince Publishing

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 :


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 ( The blog contains a number of bad jokes and puns. You have been warned.


How to contact the author:

Twitter: @PeteAbela




Excerpt of A Painted Room:



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.”




Gary groaned.

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.”

Press Release For Fatal Jealousy, By Christina OW

 Press Release Launch KitFor Fatal JealousyBy Christina OW

fatal jealousy

Available from 5 Prince Publishing

Genre: Fiction, General, African American, Mystery & Detective, Romance

Release Date: January 3, 2013

Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-23-3 ISBN 10: 1939217237

Purchase link :

 Fatal JealousyTwins Ellsa and Ellie are completely different in character, personality, taste and interests. Apart from thestriking 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

Twitter: @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.”

Book Launch / Lilac Lane – Ann Swann


Available from 5 Prince
Genre: Fiction, Romance, Suspense
Release Date: July 24, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-060-2   ISBN 10: 1631120603
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-061-9      ISBN 10: 1631120611


Lilac Lane
Ella and her son survived her ex-husband’s drunken wrath.
They are starting a new life in a new town, Stutter Creek. She’s even met a
real man. A gentle wild life biologist named Chet Boone. But now, her ex has
been released from prison early. Is that him driving past their new house late
at night? Is he the one causing the strange sounds and flickering lights? Can
they survive a second round with a madman?
About the Author:
Ann lives in Texas with her handsome hubby and several
rescue pets.  Return to Stutter Creek is the second book in this Romantic
Suspense series, the first being the aptly named, Stutter Creek. Ann’s first book with 5 Prince Publishing was All For Love, a heartbreaking story of
ill-fated romance. She is also the author of The Phantom Series.  Book One
is Stevie-girl and the Phantom Pilot, Book Two is Stevie-girl and the Phantom Student, and Book Three is Stevie-girl and the Phantom of Crybaby Bridge.  Ann has also published short fiction in the
anthologies Timeless (paranormal love
stories) and Tales of Terror (horror)
as well as a speculative short story, Chems.
Her current work-in-progress is a full-length horror novel.  When she isn’t writing, Ann is reading. Her
to-be-read list has grown so large it has taken on a life of its own. She calls
it Herman.
Public contact information
Twitter: @ann_swann
Excerpt of Lilac Lane:
Chapter One
“I really like it, don’t you?” Ella
Nick, her ten-year-old son, looked up at
her. “It’s okay, I guess.” His expression said more than his words.
Ella hugged him to her side. “It will be
all right,” she said. “Stutter Creek isn’t that far from Albuquerque. It’s just
a little resort town. Skiing in the winter, camping and fishing in the summer.
It backs right up to the National Park, you know. That’s why it’s such a
tourist town.”
Nick didn’t say anything.
“Don’t worry,” she rattled on. “We’ll be
going to visit Nana all the time, and I’m hoping she’ll come to visit us a lot,
too. We’ll even fix up the spare bedroom just for her.”
She ruffled his dark hair and climbed
the porch steps of their new rental. It was a quaint old house that had seen
better days, but the realtor assured her that all the important stuff, like
plumbing and wiring, had been recently updated. It was only the exterior that
needed a little TLC. “Well, that we
can do,” Ella had replied. “I’ve painted a few houses in my time. My dad was a
carpenter. One of my greatest joys was helping him finish out the houses he
built.” Maybe if we paint it we can get a break on the rent, she thought. But
she didn’t say anything. They had more than enough to worry about at the
“I don’t see why we had to move anyway,”
Nick pouted, interrupting her reverie. He trudged up the steps behind his mom.
He’d been very brave the whole time they
were packing and moving, but now that they were here, it had suddenly become
Ella felt her spirits slump. “I know,
sweetie, I wish we could have stayed put, too. But this little diner—they call
it The Drugstore—just beckoned me.” She glanced down and smoothed the hair
she’d just tousled. She never came right out and told him they moved specifically
to hide from his stepfather. She just tried to make it sound like one big
adventure. “We could never have bought anything like this back home. The prices
here are half what they are in the city. And there is only one other eating
establishment in the whole town—if you don’t count the convenience store—and I
don’t.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I hope you understand. I just didn’t want
to keep waiting tables forever. I want more, for me and for you.”
Nick shrugged and plopped the box he was
carrying on the sofa. Fortunately it held only books.
He’s just a child, she thought. Am I doing the right thing? She
remembered the bright red handprint on his cheek the day she’d left him in Anson’s
care. It was the day she’d been called into work unexpectedly. Up until then,
her mom had always kept Nick. When Anson tried to tell her Nick had been
disrespectful, thus giving him cause
for a face-slap, she’d become so distraught he wound up shoving her across the
kitchen. When she told him to leave, he’d simply laughed and shoved her again. This
time, her face hit the doorframe. Then he went back to the bedroom and packed her suitcase. But Ella was no one’s
victim. She called the police and had him arrested. She never slapped her
child, she certainly wasn’t going to stand idly by and let someone else do it. When
the officers arrived, Anson was convinced he could talk his way out of going to
“The boy’s just worthless,” he’d told
the senior officer. “He ain’t mine, you know. Takes after his mother. Or maybe
his old man; who knows? That worthless piece never even claimed him. Now I see
why. Too bad I didn’t know this before I took them in and gave them a home.” He
was talking to the gray-haired cop as if they were sharing confidences over
coffee. He seemed to think every man felt the way he did. Ella assumed it was
the beer talking. Once he got started drinking, things usually got ugly. But
this was the first time they’d gotten physical.
She remembered standing in the doorway
with Nick safely ensconced behind her. “Does he need to see a doctor?” the
younger officer asked.
Glancing back at Nick, the red handprint
standing out on his face like day-glo under black light, Ella shook her head. “No,
he’ll be okay as long as we get away from that madman.” Her eyes were crusty where
she’d accidentally wiped blood from her cheek into her lashes.
“I’ll need you to come to the station
and file an official report. But first, the hospital for an x-ray.” The officer
nodded toward her swelling cheek. “I’m no doctor, but I think you’ve got a
fracture there.”
Tears spilled from her eyes when he said
that. They mixed with the smear of blood and left red trails down her face. “I
feel so stupid,” she said. “How could I have let this happen?”
The officer was kind. “You didn’t let it
happen, and you didn’t cause it. You’re going to follow through and get him put
away.” He hesitated as if gauging his next words carefully. “And you won’t back
out when it comes time to testify. You won’t go back to him and make all this
night’s work be for nothing, right?”
Ella looked at him as if he were crazy. “Of
course I won’t go back to him. I’m not that
“You’d be surprised how often it
happens,” the officer replied. “You would be surprised.”
The paramedics came, but Ella insisted
she could drive herself to the hospital. She didn’t want to start off her
single life with a huge ambulance bill hanging over her head.
As she took her keys from her purse, she
saw the senior officer snap the cuffs on Anson.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he yelled
in between curse words. “I’ll sue the whole department. I’ll have your fucking
job! What’s your badge number? It ain’t no crime to swat a smart mouth kid. Especially
not one as worthless as that punk.” When he said that, he turned and looked
right at her and Nick.
They’d been trying to get out of the
house without having to confront him.
“Worthless,” he bellowed, struggling
against the cuffs. His face turned the exact shade of an overripe plum, eyes
bugging out as if they would leap on Nick and Ella and finish the beating. “Both
of ‘em. Not worth shit!” He lunged forward, catching the officer off balance.
“Hey!” The gray-haired cop leapt on
Anson’s back and took him to the floor.
“I’ll kill ‘em,” Anson was screeching. “They’ll
be sorry they did this to me!”
The younger officer shielded Ella and
Nick and hurried them outside. “A woman from Children’s Services will meet you
at the hospital to look after him and take your story.”
That terrified Ella. “Let me call my
mother. She’ll meet us there, too. She’ll help us. I know she will. Please,
don’t let anyone take my boy.”
The paramedic patted her hand. “Settle
down,” he’d said. “No one’s going to take your boy.”
But Ella wasn’t listening.
She was pressing her mother’s picture
icon on her cell phone.
Ella swept the painful memories to the
back of her mind and crossed into the kitchen where she deposited her own box
full of dishes and various utensils. “As soon as we get the rest of these boxes
unloaded, we’ll go to The Drugstore, then explore a bit.”
The movers had done all the heavy work,
but Ella hadn’t trusted them with her grandmother’s china. She also had several
more boxes in the Jeep that contained photos and artwork taken from the walls
of their old house. It had been a cramped ride to their new home, but now that
they were here, in the mountains, Ella was thankful they had the Wrangler. The
roads were beautiful but steep. Even the driveway leading up to the house was
narrow and uneven.
We’ll rent for a while, she thought. And
if it doesn’t work out, we can always go back to Nana’s house. The thought stuck
in her craw, though. Not only did she hate the thought of going back to mama,
but Anson had made such ugly threats when she had him arrested, she was afraid
to be anywhere near him, even if he was in the county jail. It was obvious how
much he had grown to despise both her and Nick. He blamed her for every bad thing
that had happened—even though he was the one who hurt them.
Her hand went to her cheekbone. There
was a permanent indentation there; small, hardly noticeable, but what would it
have looked like the next time she did something that displeased him? And what
would Nick look like the next time he “swatted” him? How long before it
escalated to closed fist rather than open-handed slap?
She couldn’t believe she’d fallen for
someone so mean and hateful. Of course, he hadn’t been either of those things
in the beginning. She recalled all the news stories of wives who had married men
who turned out to be psychopaths in disguise. When the wife disappeared, the
authorities almost always looked at the husband first. One woman disappeared
right off the cruise ship while they were on their honeymoon. Another
disappeared when she discovered her husband had been lying about being a med
student. Her body was later found in the local landfill. And what about that
poor pregnant woman whose husband sunk her body in the ocean? She had been
eight months pregnant.
It’s hard to really know someone, Ella
thought. Especially when they seek to deceive.
“Is that the doorbell?” It was the first
time she’d heard it from inside the house. Her first inclination was to call
out, “Come on in!” but her second thought was to yell at Nick not to answer it.
She compromised by hurrying toward the door. “Just a minute, I’m coming!”
When she rounded the corner between the
kitchen and the living room, she could see a woman standing outside the door.
She opened the screen. “Hello?”
The woman held out her hand. “Norma,”
she said. “From next door, well, you know, down the road.” She grinned and
indicated the direction with a wave of her hand. All the houses in this area
were set back from the road at the end of their own stumpy, humpy driveways. Each
one occupied several acres separated from each other by tall pines and junipers.
“Nice to meet you.” Ella took the
proffered hand.
Norma swept streaky gray hair off her
forehead and smiled. “Saw you two unloading boxes and thought I’d stop by and offer
to help. My husband is a long-haul trucker, hardly ever home. So I know how
welcome an extra pair of hands can be.”
Ella returned the woman’s grin even
though she wondered how Norma could possibly know it was just the two of them. How does she know I don’t have a husband lurking
around somewhere?
“Hope you don’t think I’m too forward,”
Norma said, as if she’d read Ella’s thoughts. “Your realtor is my second cousin.
She told me to check in on you guys and make sure you were getting settled.” She
held up a small brown bag that Ella hadn’t even noticed hanging from her arm. “Brownies,”
she said.
Ella laughed and stepped aside so she could
come in. “Nick will love those. Thank you so much. And trust me, we’d welcome
another set of hands if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Norma passed the bag to Ella and patted
her arm. “Just point me in the right direction.”
Ella called Nick to come in and meet
their new neighbor, and then she showed him the brownies.
“Pleased to meet you,” Nick said
politely. “Do you have any kids?”
Norma shook her head. “Sorry, buddy. My
only daughter is grown and gone. She hasn’t even blessed me with grandchildren
Nick’s face fell.
“But don’t you worry.” Her voice was
sympathetic. “We’ve got a wonderful little school here in Stutter Creek. You’ll
make lots of friends. Besides,” her face grew thoughtful. “I’ve got a godson
who is just a bit younger than you. His name is Danny and he just turned
eight.” She glanced at Ella. “I’ll be glad to introduce the two of them—well,
all of you, of course, when you’re ready. Beth and John are excellent parents. In
fact, Beth is a teacher at Stutter Creek Elementary.”
Ella shot her a look of thanks, then led
the way to the kitchen. “Nick is in fifth grade,” she said. “What grade does
Beth teach?”
Norma clucked her tongue. “Can you
believe she teaches fifth grade? Will wonders never cease?”
“That is wonderful,” Ella replied. “I
can’t wait to meet her.”
She waved a hand toward the kitchen. “We
haven’t bought any groceries yet.” She opened the bag containing the homemade
brownies. “But as soon as we finish unloading the Jeep, I’ll run to town and
get some milk to go with these.”
“Couldn’t I have just one,” Nick
wheedled, obviously won over by the cook. “I don’t have to have milk.”
Ella smiled. She’d thought that would be
his response. He was just like her when it came to chocolate. “Of course you
may.” She handed him a still-warm square and pinched off a little taste for
herself. “Sit at the table, kiddo,” she instructed. “I have no idea where the
napkins are. Hmmm, these are delicious.”
Nick sat at the table and sunk his teeth
into the first moist bite.
Together, the two women backtracked to
the Jeep and began carrying in the rest of the boxes.
It was easy to put the cartons in the
appropriate rooms. Ella’s mom had insisted on labeling each one with a giant
Sharpie while helping them pack up the house back in Albuquerque. “Half the
work is done in the preparation,” she’d said. Ella hated to admit it, but it
had made unloading things a lot easier. Even the movers had commented on it.
When the boxes were stowed away, just
waiting to be unpacked, Norma insisted it was time for her to go. But she
invited them to come over for a visit. “Just stop by anytime,” she said. “It’s
the first one on your right when you head back toward town.”
“Can we drop you there on our way to the
grocery store?” Ella glanced out the front window. “I don’t see your car.”
Norma shook her head, gray-streaked
curls bouncing. “I walked. It’s my greatest pleasure, walking these hilly roads.
Good for my heart and my hips.” She winked at Ella. “Besides, it’s only a mile.”
Ella gave her a brief hug. “I’m in awe,”
she said. “Once we get things all figured out, maybe I’ll just join you sometime.”
“I’d love that,” Norma replied. “And
Nicky, too. We’ve got lots of wildlife in these old woods. And I know a trail
that goes straight from my house to yours.”
Nick’s eyes lit up. “I’d like to see
that. We lived in town before.”
“Well, that’s a date then. The first
chance you get, you two stop by and we’ll go exploring.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Ella said.
Norma walked down the porch steps then
turned and gave a little wave. Just past the edge of the drive, she headed into
the woods. Ella could see the beginning of the trail—in another moment, Norma
was invisible.
Guess the woods are thicker than I thought.
That gave her a moment’s pause. Finding such a bargain for
rent seemed ideal yesterday, but now she wasn’t so sure. Yep. We definitely have to explore that trail. Face the unknown. Otherwise,
I’ll be imagining all sorts of things lurking there.
Anson’s face popped
into her head. But not him, she thought. He’s in jail. And when he does get
out, he has no way of finding us.
Grabbing her purse and keys, she swept
away tendrils of brunette hair that had escaped her ponytail.
“Remind me to pick up the ingredients
for a caramel pie,” she told Nick as they drove into town. “I’ll make one for
Norma to thank her for coming over and helping us get settled.”
“And for the brownies,” Nick added,
patting his midsection comically. “I liked her. I can’t wait to check out that
trail. You think we could camp out in the woods behind the house? Please?”
Ella laughed. “I’ll bet we can before it
gets too cold. But I guess we’d need a tent, right?”
Nick laughed, too. “And sleeping bags,
and a lantern, you know to see by, and—”
Ella rolled her eyes. “And more money to
buy all this stuff!”
She pointed to a neat white house with
butter colored trim on the right side of the road. The house sat back behind a
lush garden of fall mums, bright purple kale, and shiny green holly bushes
graced with tiny red berries. “Must be Norma’s house,” Ella said. “Wonder how
long it takes her to walk a mile anyhow?”
Nick shrugged. “I’ll bet I could run to
her house and back in no time!”
“I’ll bet you could,” Ella replied. “I’ll
bet you could.”

Cover Reveal-Bridge of Hope – Lisa J Hobman

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
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.
On Mallory.
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?