5 Prince Publishing’s April Releases

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction, General, African American, Mystery & Detective,
Romance
Release Date: April 2, 2015
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-102-9 ISBN 10:1631121022
PRINT ISNB 13: 978-1-63112-103-6
ISBN 10:1631121030
Fatal Obsession

 

After a hot weekend with a mysterious woman, Damien Chan did not expect to get a frightened phone call from her, begging him to save–what? who? The call is cut before she says it. The next thing he knows, he’s become obsessed with finding her and saving her from the man that had led to their first meeting. But he never expected to find her in his cousin Dale Carson’s house… as his wife!
She finds out her nightmares are actually memories of her past life… the life of a murderer. Could she truly be the deranged Ellsa Jabari who’d almost added her own sister Ellie to the list of people she’s killed?
Amnesia can be a real bitch!
 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Available from 5 Prince
Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction, Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends &
Mythology, Fantasy, Historical
Release Date: April 2, 2015
Digital ISBN-13; 978-1-63112-106-7 ISBN 10:1631121065
Print ISBN- 13; 978-1-63112-107-4 ISBN:10 :1631121073
 
The Doom of Undal
The Dragon Court has ruled Tiamut uncontested for millennia,
bringing knowledge and prosperity to all.
Yet all is not as it seems—far to the West in the land of
Undal, mightiest of the nations, the Royal Queen and her children are struck
with a mysterious illness and perish. Was the Dragon Court responsible?
Or had the Queen had been experimenting with dark magic?
Her grieving son, trained in the dark arts by the goddess
Eris herself, swears vengeance.  When he defies the Dragon Court and
they rescind their blessing on his royal house, he must turn to his mother’s
experiments and ancient blood rituals to achieve his aims.  In his quest
for truth he will become the greatest threat Tiamut has ever known.
With details pulled directly from Plato (yes, THAT Plato), The Emerald Tablets of Thoth, Sumerian and Egyptian mythology, The Doom of Undal tells the story of the Fall of Atlantis.
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5 Prince Publishing February Sale!

Available from 5 Prince  Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Romance/Contemporary
Digital ISBN 13: 978-0-9848529-5-6 ISBN 10: 0-9848529-5-6
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-028-2 ISBN 10: 163112028X
Candy Kisses
Tabitha Knight is one  of the most sought after chocolatiers in Cherry Creek, Colorado. The owner of  the exclusive, upscale candy store Tabitha Chocolates, Tabitha cleans up on  profits during Valentine’s week; however, she hates Valentine’s Day and everything  it stands for.
 The only daughter of a  mother who enjoys marrying men, often, Tabitha doesn’t believe in love at first  sight, falling head over heels in love, or marriages planned on a whim. But  when Preston Banks, the son of her best client, happens into her life she’s
finds out that not only will too much chocolate make your head spin, but so  will the right man saying the right things at the right time.

Available from 5 Prince  Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction/Romance/Contemporary
Release Date: January 30, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-95-0   ISBN 10: 1-939217-95-4
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-96-7     ISBN 10: 1-939217-96-2
 

The Girl Before Eve

Unrequited love is the biggest heartache…

Lily and Adam have been best friends since the dawn of time. Well, the dawn of their time.  Okay…since primary school actually.  Everyone accepted them as best friends.  Until one day, aged 18, Lily made a fateful discovery.  She was head over heels in love. With Adam. 

Her unrequited feelings are hard to deal with initially but become even harder when Lily inadvertently introduces him to the love of his life.  It all started as a bit of a joke thanks to the other woman’s name. Eve.  Many years later and Adam is once again single and heartbroken and Lily is there to help him pick up the pieces.  Her methods are sometimes a little unorthodox and lead to ridiculous consequences.  Can Lily help Adam move on and find happiness again?  And can either of the friends recover from losing the love of their lives? Sometimes the one thing you want is way out of reach.

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction/Romance/Historical
Release Date: January 9, 2014
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-93-6   ISBN 10: 1-939217-93-8
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-94-3     ISBN 10: 1-939217-94-6
 A single day shattered her life and  set in motion, events that would change the Sullivan family for generations.
 Marnie Joe Sullivan had the perfect life as the daughter of a  wealthy Virginia businessman, but perfection wouldn’t last. As the War Between  the States ends, she is struggling to keep her family together. After a botched  robbery, fleeing rebels leave her mother dead and Marnie at the mercy of a  killer. The year is 1867 and Virginia is still home to Confederate conspirators  and a killer that must be stopped. Loyalty and love run deep in the Sullivan  family and Marnie is no exception. As the eldest Sullivan, she feels obligated  to rescue her father from the hangman’s noose. But a jailbreak at midnight
lands her in the arms of Marshal Mason Kane.
Death is never fair. Mason Kane is proof of that. The horror  of war and the death of his brother made him a drunk. Consumed by guilt and  grief, he finds himself occupying Richmond saloons and starting fights. But a  forgotten promise to his brother forces him to put down the bottle and accept a  friend’s plea for help. Mason has no idea that the scrawny, mud covered boy he  just hit is Sullivan’s daughter and he has no idea just how tempting she is  until he tries to mend her wounds. Bound by honor and promise, Mason sets out  to find a killer. What he finds is the outlaw Marnie Sullivan. A woman he can’t  live without and secrets that lie in the way.

Just A Fairy Tale?

My one reason for reading regency/historical books is because they resemble fairytales and Cinderella stories, those of impossible loves but some how they manage not to turn into Romeo and Juliet. There is a certain virginal and yet rakish tune to it that you can’t help dance to. The sway of emotion takes you places you wished you could live in, praying for a time portal to send you back to a time when the words ‘I love you’ and fighting for love meant something. Where people were more shocked by the confession of not being a virgin unlike today declaring virginity was like declaring you spotted a unicorn in the streets.
All that kind of gets destroyed when some authors decide to add a little modern spice to it. Some don’t ruin it completely but others… it’s like drowning puppies!

We love the heroes in these books because they are the original bad boys, RAKES, SCOUNDRELS and yet we pant after them as do the book characters! So yes, we expect them to hop from one bed to another even cheer it on before he is finally shot by cupid and as he battles his way to the realisation that he would never know true sexual satisfaction ever again unless it was with the one who held his heart.

But when it’s the heroine? Dear Lord why! Why do you have to make her this ditzs who can’t decide who’s bed she likes spending time in? Miss loose panties is the one we don’t like, the supporting character that makes us love virginal Mary more because she understands true love, body soul and mind and she wouldn’t dare dance the naked dance with either one of her suitors until she was sure which one she loved. In this modern day and age, whatever–and in fact I’ve seen some authors like their heroines to have very little sexual experience if not none at all– it’s a different time with different rules. But when you’re writing about the fairy tale times, it should be sighs and tissues for those stray tears and of course the quick heart beats when the love birds steal private moments to kiss and hold hands knowing their taking major risks before they finally make love, and the readers heart explodes with emotion!

For a romance author, i’m not much of a romantic about many things but when it comes to regency/historical romance? Some people believe in Cinderella stories, Romeo & Juliet. Historical/regency novels is my fairy tale.

I-just-want-my-fairytale

On that note, watch out for my upcoming release A Lady Unbecoming (Slave Bound Series #2)  the sequel to Trial Of Love out on the 15th of November.

Cover Reveal For Serpent Priestess of the Annunaki

Series: dragon Court series

Genre: Fiction, Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology, Fantasy, Historical

Release Date: June 19, 2014

Digital ISBN-10: 1631120522 ISBN-13: 978-1-63112-052-7

Print ISBN-10: 1631120530 ISBN-13: 978-1-63112-053-4

 

Serpent Priestess of the Annunaki

The Annunaki on Nibiru lack precious metals, stones and minerals, which they desire, food on Nibiru is also running low. Their solution: establish a colony on a distant planet teeming with wildlife and vegetation. When the Annunaki discover they are ill equipped to labor under the harsh conditions found on Earth, they create a workforce called humans, a hybrid manufactured from their DNA and a species known as hominid.

The Serpent Priestess Ninkha and her husband Lord Enki are charged with this task, battling not only the challenges faced adjusting to life on Earth, but Enki’s brother, Enlil, as well. Will the humans live as Enki and Ninkha envisioned–able to learn, create and above all, reason? Or will they subjugate themselves to Enlil and his rule willingly?

At stake is the future of the Priestesses of Damuth, who, along with their serpents, service the Annunaki with their own blood, providing those who partake of the cocktail of blood and venom the ultimate in achieving a higher state of consciousness, along with youth, vigour and longevity. If Enlil, whose disdain of them is well-known, wins, what will happen to them?

To protect themselves and their descendants they form the ‘Dragon Court’, but is it enough?

Serpent Priestesses or Witches, Gods or Demons, Aliens or Ancestors, Oppressors or Creators?

Perhaps all of the above…………..

The Ice Goddess b Hannelore Moore

The Ice Goddess

In the bitter winter of 1752, Evangeline Grey is determined to return to London, claim her inheritance, and lead a solitary, uneventful existence. York holds too many sad memories for her now, and she’s ready to leave it behind.

When she finds out that her guardian has designs on her — and her pending fortune — Evangeline manages to escape, but her journey south is fraught with uncertainty and danger. Mourning the murder of her brother, still reeling from her aunt’s recent death, and close to penniless until she finds her way back to London, she’s never been more alone.

And then, on a desolate Northern English moor, she meets a benevolent stranger who changes everything.

Kendall Beaumont is a man running from a few demons of his own. On his way to his home in remote Almsborough, he stops to help the pretty, young runaway. The future seems fairly bleak for the both of them — until he decides to make her an offer she can’t refuse…

Hannelore Moore About Hannelore Moore:

In 2012, Hannelore published a short story in Timeless, a young adult anthology from Cool Well Press. Since then, her work has appeared in The Rusty Nail literary magazine and on the Flash Fiction World website, among other places. In June 2013, she won The Iron Writer Challenge #17. Hannelore is a rabid Anglophile, as you’ll discover when you read her work, and recently published her first novel, Tower Bridge. You can find more information about her on Hannelore’s Happenings (http://hanneloreshappenings.blogspot.com/)

How to reach Hannelore Moore:

Twitter: @HanneloreMoore1

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/hannelore.moore.10

Blog: http://hanneloreshappenings.blogspot.com/

 

Excerpt of The Ice Goddess

1752

Evangeline

I’m worried about my Aunt Caroline. Her laughter is infrequent these days, and she seems to be walking through the house in a sort of haze. Once, in the dining room, I even saw her clutch onto the back of a chair, as though she were steadying herself. When I rushed over to ask what was wrong, she gently held up her hand to prevent any help I might offer and said she was fine; she just hadn’t slept well the night before.

As I stand by the window and stare out into the dull, February afternoon, I have a marvelous hope: perhaps she is with child. That would make her unbelievably happy. She’s always wanted a baby but was never so fortunate with her first husband, Andrew.

I turn to see Gregory walk into the small study, and I smile at him slightly, wondering if he suspects the same thing about his wife. I think he’s surprised by my expression, for it’s rare that I interact with him at all.

After two years, I still can’t get over Gregory’s youth and good looks. He’s so handsome with his chiseled features and pale blue eyes that it’s almost distracting. He wears wool breeches and one of his heaviest dress coats, for the day is exceedingly cold, despite the bright, dancing fire in the grate. He was muttering about the price of perukes the other day – maybe that’s why he’s powdered his own dark-blond hair and pulled it back into a queue. From what I understand, he’s nothing like Andrew Bingham, who was portly and jolly and near sixty when he died. Indeed, in Andrew’s simple, scholarly house, filled with books and maps that I treasure, Gregory sometimes appears at a loss.

I’ve always suspected that he wasn’t too pleased when Em and I came from London to live here. Nevertheless, he’s treated us with kindness — or maybe a better word is indifference. For some reason, though, my brother has openly showed disdain towards him ever since we arrived in York. Em never told me exactly why Gregory bothered him so, but perhaps he saw or heard things that were kept from me. Then again, Em treats most people scornfully.

Gregory toys with the chess set on the elm tripod table. Lately, I’ve been running into him more often, it seems. That musky cologne he wears always precedes him. He wanders into various rooms when I’m already there or ends up at the stables planning to ride when I’m preparing my own horse for an outing. Right now, he picks up a knight made of veined white marble and studies it absently.

“Would you like to play?” I ask, wishing I were more comfortable with him so I could broach the subject of my aunt. But I can wait. Such news is out in good time.

“Play?” he echoes, looking up at me, and the light in those eyes makes me think he’s talking about something else. There’s a lilt in his voice as he says, “Not just now, Evangeline.”

I nod. It’s probably better, anyway. We had a game once, and I won, easily. Gregory was angry about that, although he tried to pretend otherwise. Em stood in the background, smiling broadly, not attempting in the least to hide his glee over Gregory’s loss.

We can hear the pounding at the front door from here. As surprising and desperate as the summons is, I’m glad of it, for Gregory’s eyes haven’t left me. They’re steady and contemplative. I get nervous when people pay too much attention to me, always thankful for anything that might distract them.

We both step out of the study as Caroline starts down the stairs. Our butler is leading David, the innkeeper’s son, through the entryway. I push Gregory to the back of my mind because too many things about this new scene disturb me. Why is David here, wearing that torn black greatcoat? He set off to Oxford with Em just a fortnight ago to serve as a valet. Em, you see, wouldn’t hear of living on his own without a manservant. The boy is dirty and ragged, quite a different creature from the proud, well-scrubbed assistant we sent south. At that time, he preened in his new clothes, looking as much the proper young man as Em. Even my brother, usually self-absorbed with his own concerns, complimented him on his aplomb.

And then there’s Aunt Caroline, approaching David now, her eyes worried and afraid. She looks terrible. I realize she wasn’t feeling well today, which explains why she decided to rest after dinner, but the malady afflicting her is more than a simple headache. There’s something dreadfully wrong with her. She should have stayed in bed. I know she is too curious, though, and evidently struggled downstairs again to see who was calling. Despite the fact that she wears a loose sack dress, it’s obvious she’s lost weight. Against the dull, snuff-brown linen of her garment, her skin is pale. Not fashionably so, but sallow and waxy and damp with perspiration. I try to convince myself that women appear this way in the first months of their pregnancy, but I give that up quickly enough. My aunt isn’t with child and probably never will be.

She leads David into the withdrawing room. Gregory and I follow, even though I want to run in the opposite direction. Out the front door, to the stables so I can saddle my horse and ride far away from here. I watch, becoming detached, as she tells David to sit before the fire. The boy doubles over in a worn upholstered chair and begins to cry. I don’t want to feel what he’s feeling; I don’t want to know what he’s going to say. After a while, he calms down, for, despite her illness, Caroline’s easy presence soothes him. She has a way of doing that, of making people comfortable.

“Can you tell me now?” she asks in her sweet voice.

David stares at the unadorned, wooden hearth, and then, with dull, heavy words, he relates a story about highwaymen and the Oxford coach. Somewhere south of Nottingham, they blocked its progress. The occupants were mercilessly shot, including Em. Only David managed to escape. It has taken him this long to return to York, and he misses his mother very much — more than he ever thought he would. But before he saw her, before he went home, he wanted to come here to let us know what happened.

I continue to look at David as he speaks, refusing to believe him. Em can’t be dead. Not Em, who has so much planned for himself. He intends to write a great novel, just like Mr. Fielding, his idol. And as long as I can remember, he’s looked forward to teaching at Oxford. He loves poetry and prose and hopes to help others appreciate the beauty of the written word. A mere pistol shot wouldn’t hurt someone like him. His sarcasm and that condescending manner of his make him invulnerable.

“No,” I say to David, almost apologetically. “Not true.”

Gregory steps over and takes my hand in his, but I continue to study David. The boy is wrong. He has to be.

“Do you think I’m making this up?” David says. “Why would I tell such a lie?”

“You’re mistaken.” I shake my head and feel very dizzy all of a sudden. Gregory has to steady me, apparently, by wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Have Abby take Evangeline up to her room.” I hear Aunt Caroline say, and the next thing I know, I’m climbing the faded wooden stairs, my lady’s maid at my side. We are at my threshold and then in my room, and it’s so incredibly cold. Abby leads me to my plain bed and I have the presence of mind to sit down on the edge. I stare past her, seeing nothing.

“You must rest.” I hear the catch in her voice and wonder why she would be upset, because it’s obvious that David is wrong.

I nod anyway, to appease her, and allow her to prepare me for bed. The day is gray and never seems to end.

 

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com books@5princebooks.com

Genre: Fiction/Romance/Historical

Purchase link : www.5princebooks.com/buy.html

 

A Heart Broken By Sara Barnard

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.combooks@5princebooks.com

Genre: Fiction/Historical/Romance

Release Date: January 11, 2013

Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-24-0

Print ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-25-7

Purchase link :www.5princebooks.com/buy.htm

A Heart Broken

How much grief can a heart bear before being tested to the ultimate limit?  The War is over, Charlotte and Sanderson are reunited, and life is good … until the Army comes knocking.  They have charged Sanderson with the murder of his former captor, the despicable Lieutenant Lantz who swore to kill him and Jackson. After a make-believe trial, Sanderson is sentenced to “hang by the neck until dead” – unless he can track down and kill the notorious outlaw William Quantrill with the help of SGT Jerry Thomas, who still may be in love with Charlotte.  While Sanderson is on his blood mission, Charlotte miscarries the baby he wasn’t even aware existed.  In addition to battling her grief over the loss of their unborn baby, Charlotte must also battle a rash of hydrophobia that threatens the countryside –Sanderson included.

Bio for Sara Barnard:

Sara Barnard, author of the historical fiction series, An Everlasting Heart, has been reading children’s books her whole life. First, she read then as a child then she read them to her four beautiful children! Sara has her Bachelor’s degree in history, has had her work included in numerous anthologies, and has written several other books to date. Sara and her family make their home in the historic hills of Oklahoma along with their three dogs, three cats, and eight chickens.

Author Contact Info:

www.sarabarnardbooks.com is Sara’s website

sarathreesuns.blogspot.com is where she occasionally blogs about life as a Mommy of four and wife to a Drill Sergeant.

@TheSaraBarnard on Twitter

www.facebook.com/sara.barnard6 on Facebook

sarathreesuns@gmail.com

Excerpt from A Heart Broken:

“Don’t die till we get to have some fun, girl.” Samuel’s whiskey-ruined voice was hot in Charlotte’s ear. Somewhere behind her, Dean’s maniacal laughter pulsated with cruelty. The Bowie knife grew closer to her face, but with her arms lashed behind her, Charlotte could only watch in helpless terror as the promise of death drew nearer.

“Sanderson!” she screamed, just before the icy blade met the skin of her neck.

“I’m here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Sanderson murmured into her hair. His arm, muscled and tanned, tightened around her middle. His voice was thick with sleep. “Was it that dream again?”

She sat up and traced the knife scar at the base of her neck. The air was crisp in their loft and a rash of goose bumps immediately cropped up on her exposed skin. “It was one of them. The knife one. I always wake up before they kill me, but I swear,” Charlotte shook her head to clear the nightmare from her mind, “it gets scarier every time.”

“They’ll get worse before they get better.” Sanderson propped himself up on an elbow and ran his hand down her thigh before continuing, “Mine are pretty bad right now, too. But when I wake up and look at you, I know I’m home.”

She returned his mischievous smile.

“We’ve been through a lot these past few years. Figure it’ll take our brains a little while to catch up with our bodies. The bad dreams are just our way of getting there, as I see it.” He twined his fingers through hers. “You know how I know that I’m really home?” He tugged her down close.

“How’s that?”

“I can do this.” With his free hand, he cupped the side of her face. That familiar spark blazed to life within her chest before their lips met. She closed her eyes. Softly, his kiss found her cheek, then her lips. Trembling, she let herself be taken over by her husband’s sensual caress.

“Wait, what about Minerva? Won’t she hear us?” Charlotte’s eyes were still closed. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if they’d been right to offer Minerva and baby Jay Jay their extra room. Certainly, having an empty house in moments such as these would be optimal. She pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come. Minerva was her sister-in-law, and she couldn’t imagine everyday life without tiny Jay Jay. After all, she had brought him into the world and only Aunt Charlotte could calm him down deep in those colicky nights.

Sanderson’s breath was warm in her ear, “They went out early this morning.”

Satisfied that they were alone and talk time was over, Charlotte met Sanderson’s kiss with passionate ferocity. His skin, roughened by time spent in Alton Confederate Prison, glided against hers naturally, like water over smooth river pebbles.

Finally, my love is home. I’m complete as long as he is near.

The front door squeaked open, and Minerva’s voice wafted upstairs. “Jay Jay, such a fussy boy today. Come, I’ll feed you in our room.”

Quietly, Sanderson tucked the rose-patterned quilt up over their heads as Charlotte stifled a giggle. “We were alone,” she mouthed.

He kissed the tip of her nose.

Minerva’s door clunked shut, and baby Jay Jay’s threatening whimpers ceased a moment later.

Charlotte flung back the covers. “Maybe we can continue this tonight?”

“As you wish, Mrs. Redding.”

A pounding at the door tore their gazes from each other.

“Who in the world would come calling this early in the morning?” Charlotte wondered aloud.

“I’ll get it,” Sanderson called, pulling on his britches. His voice echoed in their quaint, stone cottage.

“I’m closer,” Minerva answered. “Jay Jay is too tired to sleep.” She clomped across the floor with the infant nestled in the crook of her arm.

Charlotte peered over the edge of the loft. “Good morning, Minerva. Is Jay Jay ready for his Aunt Charlotte?”

Si, he is.” Minerva smiled and rested her hand on the doorknob. “We picked some carrots this morning. Let’s make a stew tonight.” She hefted the door open.

An unfamiliar voice boomed, “Captain Sanderson Redding!”

Sanderson froze, his shirt only half buttoned. The cold fingers of fear squeezed Charlotte’s stomach until bile rose into her throat.

“Um, ah, um,” Minerva stammered. Jay Jay began to wail again.

Charlotte dashed to the window. “Soldiers! They’re everywhere Sanderson!” She whirled, eyes wide. “Can we make it to the cave underneath Sunshine Rock where I hid from the Yankees?”

He inched to the wall and peeked out the window. Reaching out to Charlotte, he pulled her close. “There’s no way. They’re even in the trees. Every rifle out there is trained on our house, just waiting for me to make a run for it.”

“We know he’s in there, so cough him up before we come in and search the place!”

Sanderson started toward the ladder.

“No! Please, we have to try!” Hysteria was threatening to overwhelm Charlotte to such an extent that she didn’t feel like herself at all. “Please!”

“I have to turn myself in, for all our sakes. We don’t know who pointed them our way, or even why they’re here.” He began to climb down, so Charlotte started after him. She grasped the rungs and rested her head against them. Her stomach lurched and her knees threatened to give way.

Sanderson plucked her from the ladder. She clasped his hand, and they stepped to the door together. Minerva moved behind them, the baby whimpering in her arms. Their eyes met for a moment.

“Captain Sanderson Redding?” An Army officer in blue stepped forward, a scroll in his hands.

“Good morning, gentlemen. How can I help you?” Sanderson’s voice was cool and ever polite, but his grip tightened on her hand. Charlotte tried to count the soldiers, but more kept appearing from the woods.

“Captain Redding, on behalf of the United States of America, I hereby charge you with the murder of Lieutenant Robbinson Lantz.” Sanderson’s eyes widened. “Also got a list of other lesser crimes, but they don’t really matter since you gonna hang for murder anyway.”

Also Writer of 5 Prince Publishing’s first children’s book Chunky Sugars