Prepared To Fall is Live!!!

Title: Prepared To Fall
Series: Golden Oakes #2
Author: E.J. Shortall
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance
Published: August 16, 2016

LOST. ALONE. GUILTY. Adam is stuck in a thankless job with a father he loathes, and his secret childhood love is marrying somebody else. In a desperate attempt to forget it all he used a friend in a night of drunken passion. FREE-SPIRITED. DETERMINED. DRIVEN. Golden Oakes’s golden girl, Cassie’s life has been a torment of impossible parental expectations, lies and secrets. The only constant has been her close friendship with the Oakes brothers, and her kickboxing coach turned boyfriend, Jay. Now training for the fight of her life, Cassie has to trust in Jay more than ever. But when Jay’s demanding ways begin to spill beyond the ring, Adam discovers his feelings for the spritely kick-boxer might be stronger than he could ever have imagined. Putting the past behind him, he vows to be there to protect, support and comfort Cassie. Falling in love had been the last thing on their minds, but with life taking them along the unpredictable cliff edges of life, will they be there to catch each other if they fall? ***TRIGGER WARNING*** This book discusses issues of emotional, physical and sexual abuse and may be a trigger for some. Contains adult content, scenes of explicit sexual nature and language some may consider crude or offensive. It is intended for readers aged 18+ Book two in the Golden Oakes series, but can be read as a standalone.

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Prepared To Fall Excerpt © E.J. Shortall

Cassie POV
“So, what are we doing today? Cardio? Weights? ” He started walking towards the locker rooms to change. A small jolt of anticipation raced through me imagining him hot and sweaty, his arms bulging from the exertion of pushing weights. I bit down on my lip trailing my gaze down his muscular back to his firm, pert arse. God, he had a fine backside.
He stopped suddenly and turned causing me to stumble into him. His arms extended quickly to grasp my waist, preventing me from an embarrassing and ungainly arse plant on the floor.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his eyes raking over my body. “I might start swimming again to spice up my routine.”
Good God. The thought of his already athletic body showcased in Speedos with droplets of water dribbling down his lightly tanned chest had my pulse racing and my tongue begging to reach out for a taste.
It was difficult to decide which visual was better—Adam in swimwear, water droplets trickling down his body as he raked a hand through his wet hair. Adam in workout wear, sweaty with muscles bulging and veins popping, and his sounds of exertion… Oh, God. Or Adam in one of his hotter than sin suits, looking all powerful and dominant.
“Are you okay, Cass? You’ve gone very red.” A large palm pressed against my cheek and forehead. “You feel a bit clammy.” The hand moved to my neck, stroking over my sensitive pulse point. “And your pulse is racing.”
Suddenly, I was lifted off my feet, engulfed in strong arms as Adam carried me toward the private staff area.
Yanking myself from x-rated visions of Adam’s aquatic and other sexy as hell adventures, I shrieked, locking my hands behind his neck.
“What are you doing? I’m fine, you nut. Put me down.” I laughed, twisting my fingers into the overlong strands of his honey-blond hair.
“I thought you were ill,” he muttered, sliding me down his body, my feet still dangling off the floor. Our faces were now inches apart, intimately close.
His stormy blue eyes met my brown ones, the magnetism between them firm, unyielding. Under my touch his shoulders lifted and fell, his lungs sucking in a deep breath of... what? Anticipation, longing? A large knot of lust lodged itself within the walls of my throat, preventing me from being able to swallow. For the longest moment, we stood mute, our eyes and the deafening silence communicating a multitude of thoughts and questions.
He shifted his arms, the movement jostling my chest against his. A shiver of need misted over my bared flesh. Goosebumps erupted, and my nipples tightened beneath the white cotton of my sports bra.
God, what was I doing? I had to rein these feelings in. He was my friend, a close friend. Someone I’d come to trust and respect.
I untangled myself, my feet hitting the floor, and I took two steps back before I decided to tackle him right there in the GO lobby. “I’m fine,” I mumbled, forcing myself to appear unaffected and meet his gaze.
Blinking several times, Adam took a moment to come back from the haze of whatever weird cosmic connection it was we’d just shared. With a brief shake of his head and a swipe of fingers through his hair, he too took a step back, further breaking the invisible threads that had been pulling us together.

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Lost~A short story in support of Mind the mental health charity

Late last year I was approached to write a short piece to help support the charity 'Mind' by helping to raise money and improve awareness of mental health issues. I didn't hesitate and signed up immediately. Mental health illnesses will affect many of us throughout of lives, if not us then maybe a close family member, friend, colleague... Postnatal depression is something many woman suffer though after the birth of a child and was a topic I felt strongly drawn to to write for this short story.

I hope you enjoy this short two thousand word story. If this story touches you in anyway, could I please ask you to consider donating to Mind to help those struggling with Postnatal depression, or many of the other mental health conditions. 

Lost

A short story by

E.J. Shortall

Edited by: Kendra’s Editing and Book Services

"You will love it."

“There is no better feeling in the world.”

“They complete you.”

Lies.

It was all lies.

At least, that’s how it felt at the time.

No one told me the truth. No one ever said becoming a mother would shake me, break me, and turn me into a withered fraction of the person I used to be.

Sure, I had the emotional moment and feeling of absolute joy when my son was placed in my arms for the very first time. And yes, my chest constricted with an overwhelming sense of pride when he first opened his blue eyes and looked up at me, melting my heart.

That feeling didn’t last long.

Within a week of my son’s birth, everything had changed.

Sitting on a bench facing the small lake, the dark water reflecting the changing autumn leaves of nearby trees, my thoughts drifted back to the time when being a mother became too much, when I wished it would all just go away.

That he would just go away.

Harvey, my son, had been a little angel. “Our very own gift from God,” Dylan, my husband, would say. Of course he would. He didn’t get to see the devil-child like I did.

As soon as Dylan returned to work at the end of his paternity leave and it became just Harvey and me, things spiralled downhill quickly.

Everything started changing.

I started changing.

It was almost like he was testing the strength of my character—and found me lacking. From the moment the front door clicked closed behind Dylan in the mornings, after he had showered his precious son with kisses, Harvey became a demanding monster. It didn’t matter what I tried or how much of my own hair I tried pulling out, Harvey would not settle.

He would cry non-stop for hours, and nothing would pacify him. I’d feed, change, and cuddle him, and I’d rock him in my arms until they ached, but his wailing would not stop.

In the early days of post-natal checks, the midwife—and then various other health-care workers—would tell me everything was fine. It would take me a while to learn what my son’s different cries were and I should not fret about things.

That was easier said than done.

The more Harvey cried, the more desperate I became.

First, my feelings were of guilt; why couldn’t I do the simple thing of pacifying my son? We soon found ourselves in a vicious circle of baby crying—mum fretting—baby continuing to cry—mum becoming desperate for some peace.

Next came hopelessness.

I began to feel lost, worthless, not deserving of anything or anyone in my life. I had been given, supposedly, the greatest gift on earth, but I didn’t appreciate him. I couldn’t.

Within days, I found myself withdrawing from my son, and from life. I couldn’t cope. Suddenly, being a wife and mother was too much.

I wasn’t connecting with my son. The bright spark of pride I’d felt straight after his birth, had faded and died. I began despising him, wishing he were anywhere but with me. My relationship with my husband was suffering, too. I could see the concern in his eyes when he came home from work in the evenings and asked how my day had been, but I couldn’t seem to muster the enthusiasm to care.

While I stayed in bed, trying to bury myself in the comfort of my blankets, I would leave Harvey in his bassinet crying for hours until he would eventually drop off to sleep. I couldn’t find the motivation to get washed or dressed. I stopped eating properly and would ignored phone calls and visitors.

I simply withdrew from living.

Eventually, Dylan and our health visitor realised that something was wrong, that I wasn’t just suffering with mild baby blues.

“Georgie,” Dylan said to me one morning, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed as he cuddled a sleeping Harvey. “Sweetheart, we can’t carry on like this. Harvey needs his mum.”

His words were like a knife to my chest. He was right; Harvey did need me, but I didn’t know how to be a mum. I was confused, scared, tired, and I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that I couldn’t just get on with motherhood like every other new mum did.

My throat clogged up with a football-sized ball of guilt, shame, and emotion, and tears stung my closed eyes. But I would not cry. I refused to. I could not admit to Dylan how low I was feeling, how utterly useless I was. I was his wife, the mother of his child. I was supposed to be strong, caring, and nurturing his child whilst he was off providing for us financially.

Dylan’s gentle hand swept greasy hair away from my face, and I felt his eyes on me.

I will not cry. I will not cry.

I kept repeating it to myself over and over, willing myself back into the darkness that was slowly engulfing me.

“You have to snap out of this, babe. Harvey needs you… I need you.”

Despite my best efforts, a whimper that resembled a squeak abraded my throat, and the tears I had been trying so hard to repress finally started falling. I screwed my eyes together tight and prayed no more would fall. But it was no use. The dam had breached, and before I knew it, I was sobbing, burying my face into the pillow, unable to control my shaking body.

“Let me help you. We need to get you help so you can feel like you again. I need my wife, and Harvey needs his mum. We can’t lose you, Georgie.”

Dylan’s emotion-filled voice and words took me by surprise. What did he mean by ‘lose me’? I wasn’t going anywhere, well, other than the black hole I was steadily falling into.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and wiggled under the crumple of blankets until I was facing Dylan. For the first time in several weeks, I actually took note of my husband. His usual bright-blue eyes were dull and haunted, dark circles swirled underneath, and a concerned frown drew in his brows.

My husband was seriously worried. About me?

As tears continued to spill from my eyes, Dylan reached forward to wipe them away.

“I’ve been speaking to Evelyn, and she thinks you have Postnatal Depression.” I shuddered again, not wanting to acknowledge what we both knew was the truth. “I’ve made you an appointment with the doctor. It’s time we got you the support you need to help you get back to your old self.”

Dylan offered a small, weary smile and continued stroking my hair with one hand while cuddling our son to his chest with the other.

The realisation of the seriousness of my condition hit me full on. I wasn’t just feeling down or tired; I was depressed.

I turned my head, not able to look at my husband or son, as a new emotion swept through me… shame.

“Hey.” Dylan quickly slipped his gentle hand beneath my cheek, encouraging me to look at him again. “Don’t hide from me. You have nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Lots of new mothers suffer with Postnatal Depression.”

“I’m so sorry,” I cried, bringing my hand to my mouth, trying to control my hysterics. “I’m so, so sorry, Dylan.”

With his free arm, Dylan pulled my against his chest, holding his family close.

“Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for. You hear me? Nothing.”

I cried and snuggled into Dylan’s white cotton shirt for what felt like hours until Harvey started wriggling and getting grumpy.

“Why don’t you go shower while I feed this little monster, then we’ll go talk to the doctor.” Dylan planted a kiss to my forehead and began to ease away. Not wanting him to go, I quickly grabbed handfuls of his shirt and buried my face into his chest.

“I love you,” I whispered.

I felt his smile against my skin as he kissed me again.

“And I love you, too… We’ll get through this, baby. I promise we will.”

After a chat with our family doctor, he confirmed that I was experiencing Postnatal Depression. We spoke about various treatment options and support that would help me cope, and eventually decided against antidepressants, opting for a more therapeutic approach through counselling and support groups.

When we returned home from the doctors, together, Dylan and I fed and changed Harvey and settled him down for a nap, then we sat and searched the Internet for information and advice. The Mind website was a fantastic resource that helped me further understand my condition and put me in contact with a local support group.

Within days, I’d attended a one-to-one counselling session with a lovely lady who didn’t judge and encouraged me to open up. I also had further plans to join a local group of other women who were also struggling following the birth of a child. I was still buried in a black hole, but for the first time in weeks, I felt hopeful.

Talking to people who understood and could relate to how I was feeling was my greatest motivation. I finally accepted that I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t a freak of nature, or a bad mother, and my fears, anxieties, and emotions were all normal.

“Mumma, Mumma.”

My thoughts came back to the present by the sound of a happy child shouting behind me.

Slowly, I pulled my gaze from the darkness of the lake and turned in my seat. The sight that greeted me made my chest ache and spread a wide smile across my face. It was the most beautiful sight in the world.

My son.

Harvey, who was now walking, was heading toward me on his unsteady, chubby legs, a bright smile lighting up his face.

“Mumma, Mumma,” he babbled over and over, making me laugh.

“Hey, baby boy,” I cooed, scooping him into my arms. “Did Daddy take you to the swings?”

“Swin, swin, swin” he chanted over and over, excited to have mastered—in his baby way—another new word.

I felt Dylan step up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist, settling his hands over my stomach.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

The warmth of his breath fluttering across the sensitive skin of my neck, and the husky tones of his voice, sent my body into overdrive.

“Hello to you, too, handsome.”

“How is my family doing?” He rubbed gentle circles over the tiny swell of my belly.

“We’re all doing great.” I beamed, turning in Dylan’s arms and offering him my lips that he was only too willing to smother with his own.

We stood together for several minutes, kissing each other and cuddling our son, until Harvey became restless and wanted to get down.

“I guess it’s time to go home, then,” Dylan said, taking Harvey from my arms and securing him in his stroller.

As we walked back through the park toward our car, I couldn’t be more thankful for my life. I had a wonderful son, a fantastic husband, an amazing support group surrounding me, and another, unexpected, child on the way.

Things weren’t always perfect; I still had the occasional struggle, and I couldn’t deny being a little afraid of becoming a mother again. But, as they said, I was doing well and getting better and more confident every day.

With my family and friends beside me, I knew everything would be okay.

“You will love it.”

“There is no better feeling in the world.”

“They complete you.”

It was all the truth, every last word.

EJ Shortall © 2016

New release ~ The Recovery of Catherine Brodie (Catherine Brodie Chronicles Book 2) by Grace Harper

 

It's live!

The Recovery of Catherine Brodie is the second book in the Catherine Brodie Chronicles. A romantic suspense story chronicling Catherine's life after she made a fatal mistake. The four books span a decade telling the story of how she comes to terms with her new life. The friends and enemies she makes along the way. Will she ever find absolution? Book 1, The Disappearance of Catherine Brodie is at half price until 17th February, so if you want to start the series, now's a good time. It's available on all platforms.   The Introductory price for The Disappearance of Catherine Brodie is also at half price on all platforms, here are the links:

Amazon: myBook.to/TROCB

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1VoJJ2o

B&N: http://bit.ly/1OWAAub

iBooks: https://itun.es/gb/MPtlab.l

You can also add it to your TBR list on Goodreads here: http://bit.ly/1LaJwKl

Synopsis:

“...’Do you love me yet?’ Alex said, hoping the answer was yes...”

The Recovery of Catherine Brodie starts four years after Erin’s confrontation in the cellar of Green’s. Alexander Devlin wants his band to perform at Green’s and writes a begging email. Erin relents and says yes, even though it goes against all her rules. Erin continues to put her past behind her, but like every bad penny, they always turn up. Erin Brodie has made a success of her music venue and it’s the most sought after place in the country for non-signed artists to perform. Alexander Devlin is the guitarist from the rock band Fragile, they are at the top of their game and are just about to release their final album. Erin drops her guard and so her courtship with Alex begins, but it comes at a price. Erin has enemies and, this time, they have upped their game. This time, her life is in jeopardy and it takes all of her friends to race to find her. This time, they might just be too late...

To be in with a chance of winning a signed paperback (open internationally), sign up to my newsletter HERE to keep up to date with future releases and exclusive prizes. One winner will be picked from anyone who signed up between 1st February 2016 to 17th February 2016. Winners will be notified via the newsletter in March 2016. The host for this post is not responsible and neither is the social media platform, I am Grace Harper x

Author Bio

Grace Harper is a British author who loves to write about strong women and the friends and lovers who make them stronger. She adores writing steamy scenes of first encounters and there is always a little twist along the way.

When Grace is not writing, she can be found mooching about in stationery stores, dreaming up tattoo designs or teasing her friends until everyone is in fits of giggles. Grace might have a Maltesers addiction but is not ready to stand up and own that just yet. If you want to get in touch, please do, Grace is pretty laid back and friendly.

Twitter: @authorgharper / Tsu: @graceharper / Instagram: @authorgraceharper /

Email: authorgraceharper@gmail.com / Facbook: Grace Harper, author

Big birthday sale

In celebration of my birthday this week—a birthday I would rather forget—I'm giving something back. All my published novels are either FREE or on sale. And of course you can still pre-order My Perfect gift for just 99p/99c.

~Silver Lining-Silver series book one~ FREE
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OVgOmK
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1MctaB1

~Silver Dove-Silver series book two~ 99p/99c
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1KXFTts
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1FRqMmy

~Prepared To Fight~ $1.99/£1.30
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1UDeT7A
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1LXMbf8
Amazon CA: http://www.amazon.com.ca/gp/product/B00YF3AJYK
Amazon Au: http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B00YF3AJYK
**Also available on B&N, iTunes, Google Play/Books and Kobo**

~My Perfect Gift: A Christmas novella~ Pre-order for 99c/99p
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OVfTTx
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1KXEJOs
Amazon CA: http://www.amazon.com.ca/gp/product/B0161PZUY8
Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B0161PZUY8
**Also available on B&N, iTunes, Google Play/Books and Kobo**

Cover reveal ~ My Perfect Gift: A Christmas novella

Cover Reveal

My Perfect Gift: A Christmas Novella
by
E.J. Shortall

Release date: November 6th, 2015

Synopsis

Christmas isn’t the same anymore for Lara Hollywell, not since she lost her greatest gift of all, her fiancé. Now, she spends her holidays with family remembering Christmases past and contemplating a life without love, a life where only dreams and fantasies keep her company.

Blake Snowden is tired of being seen as nothing more than the man with deep pockets and a handsome face. He wants romantic walks, snuggling by the fireplace and kisses under the mistletoe. And he wants it all with his beautiful Head of Marketing, Lara.

When Blake rigs the company’s annual secret Santa draw to get Lara’s name, will they both discover more than the perfect gift in their stockings on Christmas morning?

Pre order links

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OVfTTx

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1KXEJOs

Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/MPGamazonAu

Kobo: http://bit.ly/MyPerfectGiftKobo

Meet the author

EJ Shortall was born and raised in London, England where she currently still lives with her teenage son.

Having worked in education for the better part of 12 years, EJ decided a change was needed and, following a moment of inspiration, she decided to put pen to paper and start writing her first novel, Silver Lining. Not content with just the one, she continued with book two and hopes to write many more.

She has always enjoyed reading, but found it was mostly just a holiday extravagance. Then she discovered a certain worldwide best seller, and that was it she was hooked. Reading quickly became an obsession and she couldn’t devour books fast enough. The books on her shelves and reading device range from sweet, Young Adult romances, to smouldering erotic encounters.

Aside from reading and writing, EJ also enjoys amateur photography, cake decorating and dabbling in graphic design.

“I am on one amazing roller coaster ride at the moment, meeting new and wonderful people, discovering new music gems to integrate into my stories, and learning so many new skills. I can’t wait to see where this journey takes me.”

If you would like to join E.J. on her journey, please follow or contact her. She would love to hear from you!