Thanks to everyone who responded to the half price sale of my books on Smashwords during the month of July. It went well. Over the next few months (maybe years), I hope to re-release several of my previous novels from the Sin series.
I'm presently working on the last book in the Stillwater series. The title of the book is Someone Like Them and I hope to finish the first draft of the story by the end of this year.
In the Stilllwaters series, each one of the three sisters that I follow in the storylines finds the strength in themselves to overcome their life circumstances. Wanda Carson is the oldest of the three sisters in this series, and to say that her life goes from rags to riches is any understatement. Here's a preview of the book's opening.
SOMEONE LIKE THEM
PROLOGUE
Wanda stood bathed in the glare of
the brilliant spotlight with tears streaming down her face. What was being sung was a love song, just for her.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot…
How could it ever be?
And never brought to mind?
Not brought to mind? That was impossible.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot…
This was the end.
And auld lang syne?
This was her last performance.
For auld lang syne, my friend…
The most
important people in her life were out there beyond the lights. Her mother, Faith, her younger sisters
Melanie and Jolene, her granddaughters, Raven and Racine…
For auld lang syne,
And of
course, her beloved godmother Miss Emma.
We’ll tak' a cup o’ kindness yet,
Yes,
everyone she loved was present, except the ones she loved beyond comprehension—Armand,
Davon and Christa— her children.
For auld lang syne.
As the
audience at the Broadway theatre finished the song for the woman who they felt
was just like them, the chant that followed Wanda Carson’s extraordinary rise
to stardom began, reaching a crescendo.
Lady C! Lady C! Lady C!
She stood center stage, a vision in
gold, bathed in the spotlight, amid a shower of flowers, chants of adulation
and deafening applause. The curtain came
down slowly. Torrents of tears washed
her glittering makeup away. No one would
have guessed that they weren’t tears of joy.
For the past eighteen months, she
stood on this stage, eight times a week, singing her heart out. Every song that she sang was for her
children. Every tear that she shed, in
the past and in the present, onstage and off, was for the three of them.
The curtain came down. The spotlight faded. The last performance was over. Or was it just beginning?
