New Adult Contemporary
Romance/Suspense
Romance/Suspense
Sexual content and mature subject matter, including domestic violence and abuse.
This will be a two book series, but both books in The Beaumont Brothers can be read as a standalone.
Synopsis
After a not-so-wonderful young adulthood—shuffled from one foster home to another—Lena Benton had hoped marriage would
be her ticket to happiness. Wedded a year after high school graduation, Lena was certain she’d found her knight. But when Troy Harington’s true colors surface shortly after their glorious day of elopement, things aren’t quite as rosy as Lena had envisioned. When an unforeseen event turns ugly, all she can do
is ... run!
be her ticket to happiness. Wedded a year after high school graduation, Lena was certain she’d found her knight. But when Troy Harington’s true colors surface shortly after their glorious day of elopement, things aren’t quite as rosy as Lena had envisioned. When an unforeseen event turns ugly, all she can do
is ... run!
But does she run far enough?
Jackson Beaumont prides himself on being a nature-loving, guitar-strumming carefree sort of guy, known for his eagerness to help
injured animals find their way back into the wild. When Lena Benton walks into his bar, he’s once again swept off his feet with concern and desire to help the wounded. Will he risk having his heart torn apart again when the memory of the fawn he rescued as a child resurfaces?
injured animals find their way back into the wild. When Lena Benton walks into his bar, he’s once again swept off his feet with concern and desire to help the wounded. Will he risk having his heart torn apart again when the memory of the fawn he rescued as a child resurfaces?
Purchasing Links
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Amazon UK: http://tinyurl.com/l5lchd3
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/
Excerpt
No more tears, I ordered myself. It’s over. Was he dead? I hoped he was dead. I had to have killed him. My emotions—convoluted
with anger and fear—dominated my judgment, giving me courage to go on. I’d never considered myself weak, to allow a man to have such complete and utter control over me—to beat me whenever he had the whim. How the hell had that happened?
with anger and fear—dominated my judgment, giving me courage to go on. I’d never considered myself weak, to allow a man to have such complete and utter control over me—to beat me whenever he had the whim. How the hell had that happened?
Well, that person was gone and I didn’t want to be weak anymore. I lifted my glasses, studied my eye again, and thought of my mother—she’d been weak, I remembered. The vision of my stepfather beating my mother to death invaded my mind. I was nine at the time, and sat cowering in the corner, praying he wouldn’t come at
me when he’d finished with her. I’d watched him slap my mom around before, and she’d always been able to recover. But that last time, he’d gone too far. I watched as my mother fell to her knees, clutching her stomach as his foot came off the ground and struck her in the face. She’d fallen backwards and her head hit the edge of the red, brick hearth of the fireplace. I covered my eyes and screamed as blood spewed out all over the bricks and the worn out, dingy cream carpet. A neighbor heard the screaming and called the police. They’d gotten there in time for me, but too late for my mother.
me when he’d finished with her. I’d watched him slap my mom around before, and she’d always been able to recover. But that last time, he’d gone too far. I watched as my mother fell to her knees, clutching her stomach as his foot came off the ground and struck her in the face. She’d fallen backwards and her head hit the edge of the red, brick hearth of the fireplace. I covered my eyes and screamed as blood spewed out all over the bricks and the worn out, dingy cream carpet. A neighbor heard the screaming and called the police. They’d gotten there in time for me, but too late for my mother.
I’d been on my own since I was eighteen after enduring one foster home after another, never really fitting in. But at the tender age
of fourteen I’d found my niche. An old discarded second-hand guitar I’d discovered in someone’s trash became my savior. As long as I had a guitar in my hands nothing else mattered. After a few months of living with some friends and several temporary gigs here and there, I’d been lucky enough to find a spot with a smalltime band singing and playing lead-guitar. They called themselves The Magic Crew. They were good too, on their way to stardom, and I was right there with them until Troy Harington showed up and swept me off my feet.
of fourteen I’d found my niche. An old discarded second-hand guitar I’d discovered in someone’s trash became my savior. As long as I had a guitar in my hands nothing else mattered. After a few months of living with some friends and several temporary gigs here and there, I’d been lucky enough to find a spot with a smalltime band singing and playing lead-guitar. They called themselves The Magic Crew. They were good too, on their way to stardom, and I was right there with them until Troy Harington showed up and swept me off my feet.
It seemed as if it had all been a dream as I thought about how he’d manipulated me into believing he loved me. Handsome? Oh yeah, he was handsome.
Teaser
I daydream often. If I didn't
write, I think my mind would explode from an overload of fantasy and weirdness. To the annoyance of my friends and family, my characters sometimes become a part of my world. During my childhood, I would frequently get in trouble in school for daydreaming. Eventually, my vivid imagination paid off and
I had the privilege of writing and co-directing my sixth-grade class play--a dreadful disaster; though not from my writing, of course, I must blame it on the acting.
The craft of writing, although dormant for years, never really left me. Many years later, and with the help of technology, I let my imagination run wild again.
write, I think my mind would explode from an overload of fantasy and weirdness. To the annoyance of my friends and family, my characters sometimes become a part of my world. During my childhood, I would frequently get in trouble in school for daydreaming. Eventually, my vivid imagination paid off and
I had the privilege of writing and co-directing my sixth-grade class play--a dreadful disaster; though not from my writing, of course, I must blame it on the acting.
The craft of writing, although dormant for years, never really left me. Many years later, and with the help of technology, I let my imagination run wild again.
Born in a small town in Pennsylvania, I enjoy writing about characters living in small quaint towns. I tend to lean toward the
unusual and spooky. I read all genres but I love reading paranormal romance and like writing in that genre.
unusual and spooky. I read all genres but I love reading paranormal romance and like writing in that genre.
My paranormal playing field delves into a different milieu, abandoning vampires and werewolves, but not discounting them.
Someday I might like to write a novel about vamps and those furry creatures. But for now I like the bizarre mixed with romance. A strong hero or heroine confronted with extraordinary forces of nature, powers and capabilities gets my blood running.
Someday I might like to write a novel about vamps and those furry creatures. But for now I like the bizarre mixed with romance. A strong hero or heroine confronted with extraordinary forces of nature, powers and capabilities gets my blood running.
I live in Northern California with my very romantic husband, my small yippy dog, Riley, and my humungous black cat,
Saké. My family consists of his and her children; four wonderful sons, one beautiful daughter, and seven grandchildren. My greatest love in life is my family and those large and ever growing holiday dinners.
Saké. My family consists of his and her children; four wonderful sons, one beautiful daughter, and seven grandchildren. My greatest love in life is my family and those large and ever growing holiday dinners.
I enjoy traveling. I hate
running, but do it once in a while. Reading and writing are my favorite pastimes.
running, but do it once in a while. Reading and writing are my favorite pastimes.
Giveaway
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