Redeeming the Billionaire by Christina Tetreault

 

Interior designer Addison Raimono doesn’t have time for a romantic relationship. She’s to busy keeping her fledging business afloat, but then again a man like Trent Sherbrooke doesn’t enter a woman’s life everyday.

Interior designer Addison Raimono doesn’t have time for a romantic relationship. She’s to busy keeping her fledging business afloat, but then again a man like Trent Sherbrooke doesn’t enter a woman’s life everyday.

Book trailer:

http://youtu.be/XPnAF-kn_Co

 

Billionaire Trent Sherbrooke works hard and plays harder. He’s never once cared what the media or society says about him, until now. Intent on making his way into the United States Senate, Trent hires campaign advisor Marty Phillips. A ruthless force in politics he’ll stop at nothing to get his candidate elected.

After a chance encounter throws local small business owner Addison Raimono in Trent’s path, Marty believes he’s found Trent’s ticket into Washington.

Ignoring his conscience that insists he leave Addison alone, Trent sets out to win her over. Soon what he assumed would be a relationship to salvage his reputation turns into so much more. But can a relationship started on a lie ever survive?

Available at iTunes for pre-order now:

http://amzn.com/B00N5TWLH8 AZ

http://bit.ly/1nMTrdA iTunes

 

Available everywhere in September

 

About the Author

CT

I started writing at the age of 10 on my grandmother’s manual typewriter and never stopped. When I am not driving my 3 daughters (ages 7, 5, and 5) around to their various activities or chasing around our two dogs, I am working on a story or reading a romance novel. I just finished Redeeming The Billionaire book 5 in the Sherbrookes of Newport series, and I have started book 2 in my new series Love On The North Shore. You can visit my website www.christinatetreault.com or follow me on Facebook to learn more about my characters and to track my progress on my current writing projects.

Author Links:

Website: www.christinatetreault.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinatetreaultauthor

Twitter: @cgricci

 

Excerpt from Redeeming the Billionaire

Marty folded up the sleeves of his shirt. “It’s all a matter of importance. The who doesn’t matter. The wonderful opportunity it presents does. Now, I need to know everything. How did you meet her? How long have you known her? Have you slept with her yet?”

Trent pinched the bridge of his nose. Christ, couldn’t he have a cup of coffee with a woman without someone assuming he’d slept with her? “I met her just before we met last week. I bumped into her on the sidewalk and spilled coffee on her. When this picture was taken I had stopped in the bakery and when I saw her again I said hello. We talked for a few minutes before she left.”

As Marty chewed he jotted notes down on a legal pad. “That’s it? You didn’t ask her out to dinner? Get her phone number?”

Did the man think he asked out every attractive female he met? “More or less.”

Marty looked up at him. “More or less, I need to know everything. And when I say everything, I mean it.”

“I told her I wanted this office redecorated and asked if she might be interested. Shirley called and set up an appointment with her.” After giving Shirley the instructions, he hadn’t thought anymore about it.

“Excellent. When?”

“I’ll have to check my calendar.”

Marty tapped his pen against his pad several times before he spoke. “We might have to change our time table a little, but I’d like to keep to it if possible. A wedding at the end of next summer is ideal. That would give you a solid year of marriage before the actual election.”

Caution flags jumped up as he listened to Marty. The advisor’s original plan had been acceptable. A marriage to a wealthy socialite who viewed their relationship as a way to achieve her own goals was one thing. What Marty proposed now was entirely something else.

“Perhaps we should stick with what we originally discussed. Why don’t I go through these and pick a candidate.” Trent reached for the binders Marty had put together. “Then they’ll be no need to adjust our timeline.”

“You hired me because you want to win.” Marty pointed his pen at the picture of Addison. “She’s your ticket to the Senate.”

Trent’s eyes focused on the picture. What had she just said to him when the picture was taken? It must have been funny because he had a huge smile on his face. Come to think of it, he’d smiled through much of their conversation. She’d had an easygoing nature with a great sense of humor. There had been no awkward moments or long gaps of silence. Under different circumstances he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.

“The women in here may help repair your reputation.” Marty pointed to the binders he’d put together of potential wife candidates. “This one though will win the hearts of voters.” He nodded toward the newspaper on the table. “I don’t understand the problem. She’s beautiful and well-educated.”

Marty had him there. Addison was attractive and, from all he could tell, intelligent. Even with that knowledge, a corner of his conscience prickled at the idea.

Across the table Marty popped a pickle in his mouth and chewed as he waited. “If it helps look at it this way. Her involvement with you will put her business on the fast track. The whole thing will still more or less be a business agreement.”

Trent nodded. Marty had a point. If he and Addison became romantically involved it would do more for her business than an ad during the Super Bowl.

“If you’re going to make it in politics you need to learn to do what’s right for your career, everything else comes second. Trust me, I’ve been around long enough to know that few politicians make it with their conscience intact.” Marty pushed the paper closer to him. “So what’s it going to be?”

Addison’s face beamed up at him. “We’ll try it your way, but if it’s not working we will fall back to our original plan.” Sure, they’d had an enjoyable conversation over coffee but he was not prepared to wager the rest of his life on that. He picked up his untouched sandwich. “I’m assuming you made sure she’s not involved with anyone.”

The look Marty gave him said it all. “Unless she’s got a secret lover tucked in her closet, she’s single and has been for over a year.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know how things go. But in the meantime, keep working on who leaked this picture.”

The Blue Lute Turns One!

This time one year ago I saw my second novel, The Blue Lute, come to life through its publication. And today we are celebrating with a brand new cover and a treat for everyone with an alternate and deleted scene.

So first thing’s first…. Ta Da!!! The Blue Lute – NEW – One Year Anniversary cover facelift!

mockup

 

NOW for the Alternate and Deleted Scene

Originally, I had written this great scene where Brandon can’t stay in the same room with Lilly because he promised her he’d be a gentleman and ran off, finding himself at elderly Christine’s house, finally confronting her about their past. I really wanted it to work, but as I edited it just didn’t work. I tried to make it work but in the end I left it out. But if you ever wanted to know what really happened to Brandon the night he snuck out and met Christine, which eventually led to the Abruzzios torching Lilly’s apartment, then read this next passage to your heart’s desire.

Ooops one more thing… if none of this make sense, then you haven’t read The Blue Lute and need to get it – please do so here http://amzn.to/1daMSOg

*     *     *     *

Alternate Chapter 18 

 

At one in the morning Brandon opened the door to his dark apartment. A single lamp glowed toward the back and he turned the corner finding Lilly sound asleep on the bed. She looked so sweet and tired; an open book on her chest and glasses still on her face. Careful not to wake her, he took the glasses off, setting them on the nightstand, the paused liking the look of them there.

They’d never slept in the same bed before but not because he didn’t want to. He ached for her like any man would for his beautiful girlfriend. But anytime he got closer than a casual graze of her feminine curves, she backed away. He knew she protected her heart like miser guarded his millions and there was barely a thing he could do to break down that barrier. For the most part he let her keep her heart blocked because he knew he wasn’t going to be around for much longer. Instead, he counted on his years of courtesy, morals, and old-fashioned refinement to keep him grounded.

Lost in his own pensiveness, he watched her sleeping in serene peace. Her cheeks were rosy; lips slightly parted with sweet, warm breath escaping as she breathed. She’d let her ponytail out; blonde curls cascaded across the blue pillowcase like golden sunlight across an ocean.

Do I really have to go back? He thought to himself with a sigh.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he brushed his fingers against her cheek. She didn’t flinch at his touch. She must’ve been studying hard tonight, he surmised, and took the book from her chest. She inhaled, coming to and softly moaned. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I haven’t been here long,” he said and kissed her puckered lips.

She gave him sleepy smile and leaned up on an elbow. “Good. What time is it?”

“It’s after one. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He caught the lingering scent of perfume on her neck and an electric shiver ran down his spine, arousing him in an instant.

Lilly touched his face and he began to perspire. He gulped but watched as she sat up, unwrapping herself from the blanket.

“Where are you going?”

“Home? It’s so late.”

Brandon reached out, holding her back from leaving the bed. “Don’t go.”

Her face creased with thought. Just this one time he wanted her to stay with him. He wanted to hold her and wake up next to as they started the day together.

He stroked the back of her hand the more she shied away from him. “Please?” he whispered. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Lilly eyes darted to the ceiling then closed them, then took a deep breath. “I-I can’t. I’m not like other girls, Brandon. I don’t hop into bed with someone just because it’s fun. I need more than that. I have to know that I- I-, that I…”

“Won’t get hurt?” he finished for her.

She nodded. “And you’re leaving soon. Matthew is so close to figuring it out. In fact he said we should meet tomorrow night, since the moon will almost be full.”

Brandon kissed her hand, quieting her. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything. I promise to be a gentleman.”

She cupped his face. “You’re always a gentleman.”

He grinned and willed his lecherous urging to subside. “I can’t bear for you to leave. Besides I’m tired. I’m only thinking of sleep. You know, snoring, drooling, dreaming.”

Lilly giggled, twisting a curl from her shoulder. “Okay, I’ll stay. But I don’t have anything to wear.”

Brandon bounced off the bed for his dresser, taking out a t-shirt and pair boxers. Lilly took the clothes from him and changed in the bathroom, then slid back into bed next to him. She rested her head on his chest and yawned. Brandon wrapped his arms around her and swept away the hair tickling his chin. “Get some sleep. You looked like you were studying the whole night.”

“Mmm, I was.” Her eyes were already closing.

“Good. I’m glad you got some work done.”

When she didn’t respond, Brandon looked down. She was out. He kissed her head and held the hand that rested above his heart.

 

An hour later, wide-eyed Brandon was still not asleep. Maybe sleeping in the same bed wasn’t a good idea after all. He couldn’t help but be sexually stimulated with Lilly lay nestled so close to him. Her long, bare leg crooked across his, her rose-scented hair under his nose, the touch of her breath on his skin— it was too much for him to handle.

Untangling her limbs from his, he sat up breathing a sigh of relief. Yes, he was a gentleman, but he was only human. There was nothing he wanted more than to be loving her with all the desire he had brimming inside. He had to get out of there.

Grabbing his jeans and t-shirt from the bathroom, Brandon dressed in a minute flat. Then as quickly and quietly as he could took the keys to the Buick off the hook on the wall and ran down the four flights of stairs. Then outside, Brandon zipped up his leather jacket and started the car, rolling down the windows as he raced away from Chelsea.

The cold October wind on his face seemed to help him clear his head and before he knew it he was heading out of the city. The road was long and lonely though and he started thinking about what Lilly said about her not being like other girls. She was right, she would never be one of those girls who’d jumped into bed with their boyfriends after a few weeks and that’s one thing he liked about her. It made him remember the simpler time from where he came from. A time when you wooed a woman long before you even had a date. Not like today with things like speed dating and marriages ending before they even had a chance to begin.

Lilly would fit perfectly back in his time. He pictured her in strappy dress and flashy lavaliere hanging around her neck. Maybe she’d have a cute, waved bobbed hairstyle showing off the curve of her graceful neck. And maybe the dress was one of those short numbers with the beaded fringe on the bottom that played peek-a-boo with a garter on her long, tight thighs. Brandon shook his head of his once again torrid thoughts.

Squelching the lust, he started thinking about the opposite of love and no one else infuriated him as much as Christine. If she were in the same situation, she would’ve been the one convincing him to stay with her, despite how tired he might have been. Then she’d drag him to bed expecting him to do whatever she wanted. And she always got her way.

He wondered what it was about Christine that blinded him for so long. Was he so in love with her he couldn’t see what kind of a person she really was? For almost a year she’d cheated on him and he didn’t even know it.

Maybe it was fate directing him or the anger he felt toward Christine, but next thing he knew was taking the Verrazano Bridge for Staten Island. Sure, it was well past two in the morning, but he still made his way to Scarkill Drive. There, he stopped at the pathway in front of Christine’s house. He didn’t know why he was there, but then the answer crept into his thought process: he never confronted her about what she did. He wanted to hear remorse in that wicked woman’s voice for hurting him all those years ago.

Turning the engine off, Brandon sat staring ahead, gripping his hands on the wheel. The thing about Lilly and Christine was that Lilly was the good, the bright shining light in his life where Christine was the scarring dark pain. No matter how brilliant Lilly was he couldn’t get past the things Christine did. He knew, more than ever, he had to go back to his own time. He needed to stop that woman even if it meant he had to leave behind the life he made here.

There was a loud bang on his window and Brandon whipped around seeing Christine outside, a cane in her hand. He climbed out of the car irritated. “You could have broken my window!” His yelling didn’t faze her.

“Nice car, did you steal it?”

Brandon crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “I’m afraid you have me confused with your late husband.”

She cackled. “I could never confuse you two.”

Brandon’s eyes twinged at her comment and yet she continued. “So where’s your girlfriend?”

“Leave Lilly out of this. You aren’t fit to talk about her.”

“Those are some angry words, Brandon. You used to never talk to me like that.”

“You aren’t the same person you used to be, Christine.”

She raised a brow. “No, I’m not. After a life like mine, I’m stronger and as I remember Brandon, you always liked strong women. I’m not surprised Miss Little Blonde Pixie couldn’t keep you in bed.”

Angrily he pushed himself away from the car. “She’s more of a woman than you ever were.”

“If she’s so much of a woman, then why aren’t you with her now?” Christine shot back.

She hadn’t lost her quick tongue after all these years. Brandon shook his head. It was not a conversation he wanted to have with a former girlfriend, let alone an elderly woman, and especially as he maintained an abstinent relationship with Lilly.

“Oh I see,” she purred. “You two haven’t…oh, aren’t you the perfect gentleman. If only she could have known you back then.”

“I’m the same person I’ve always been. Unlike you, Christine, I never sold my soul to the devil.”

“Ahh I was waiting for you to bring him up. All right, let’s have it. Let’s hear your sanctimonious ravings on how Nick was such a bad man.”

“I don’t need to tell you how bad he was. He ruined your life just as much as he ruined mine. Oh but you had a hand in that, too, didn’t you?”

“So is this the reason you came here, to berate me? How did you even know I would be awake?”

Brandon shifted his weight from one foot to another. “I’ve known you a long time, Christine. You’ve always been a night owl.”

“Very well. So what do you want from me? Want me to quell your pretty boy mind and take away the guilt over what happened that summer?”

“Why would I have guilt?”

“Because it was your side business that made the two million Nick wanted in the first place.”

“It was the Prohibition! The whole speakeasy world was making money on homemade liquor. So what if I didn’t give a money-hungry gangster a piece of my retirement. It was Nick who destroyed the place for wanting MY money. Hell OUR money! Did you ever think about how I’d share with you whatever I made?” He studied her reaction but her expression was stone cold. “No, saving up a fortune for our future wasn’t glamorous enough for you, was it? You got bored and needed a little excitement so you turned to him.”

Brandon dug into his pocket and pulled out the pouch he carried. Grabbing her hand, he stuck the sack in her palm. “Here, it’s yours. I can’t carry it anymore.”

Christine hooked her cane onto her wrist and examined the ring inside. For a moment Brandon thought he saw tears welling in her eyes, but then she dropped the ring inside and drew the string closed.

She threw it back to him. “I don’t want it. I never wanted to marry you,” she said haughtily. “I tricked you into buying that. You knew I never wanted to be someone’s wife.” She turned, trudging up to the front porch on her cane.

Brandon followed her up the stairs and reached out his hand to help her sit. She might be an adversary, but she was still a wobbly old woman.

Christine slapped it away. “I don’t need you.”

He scoffed and perched his twenty-seven year old body against the railing in front of her as he watched her struggle to settle in the hard chair.

“So what’s it like being old?” he asked as she breathed heavily from the merest bit of exertion.

“You tell me, you’re birthday is before mine,” she snapped.

“Funny how that worked out. I never thought I could look better than you, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Don’t brag, it doesn’t become you.”

Brandon crossed his arms. “So, let me ask you, if you could go back and change what you did and not tell Nick about the money, would you?”

“He would have found out eventually.”

“That’s not what I asked?”

“But it’s the truth. He was always gunning for the Lute,” she darted the subject away from him again.

Brandon gave her a knowing glare.

“Damn it, Brandon!” she shouted. “Yes, ok, if I knew getting the money would’ve snowballed into the murderous night it did, I would’ve never told him those numbers were wrong.” She jabbed him with her cane. “But don’t you dare gloat! I would’ve left you anyway. You were holding me back, wanting me to be your perfect little wife. So how were you any different than Nick was? You both wanted me to do whatever you planned without my say.”

Brandon swatted her cane away. “I never wanted you to be the perfect wife. I just wanted you to be my wife. You could have been her in New York, Los Angeles, in Timbuktu and I wouldn’t have cared just as long as we were happy!” he yelled finally able to speak his true feelings.

“Don’t yell at me Brandon. I have a lot more firepower behind me than you think.”

Brandon sputtered. “Go ahead and threaten me. But I want you to know if I can change what happened, I’m going to, so you think about that for a while.”

“Really?” Slowly, Christine made her way to a stand and reached for the front door handle. “I don’t take threats either Brandon, so I’d run if I were you.”

Brandon questioned her warning but remained where he was, calling her bluff. What could an old woman do, he thought.

In that second, she narrowed her eyes on him and the corners of her mouth turned upwards. A shiver flew up Brandon’s spine.

The next thing he knew she screamed, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Then hollered, “HELP ME! BURGULAR!” at the top of her powerfully tuned lungs.

Right away several lights from the surrounding houses popped on and Brandon’s jaw fell.

Christine smirked. “I told you to run. My grandsons inherited Nick’s itchy trigger finger. I’m sure you remember that don’t you?”

Of course he remembered Nick’s fondness for shooting off his Colt .45 without a warning. The porch lamp snapped on and in flash he turned and jumped over the railing, making a beeline for his car. Adrenaline causing his fingers to shake and he fumbled getting the keys into the ignition. Finally, the Buick started and Brandon looked up to see a man at Christine’s door with a gun in hand. Next thing he knew the sound of a bullet piercing the body of the car echoed in his ears. That was too close and Brandon squealed away from the curb not once looking back until he reached the highway back to Manhattan.

Forty-five minutes later, Brandon came through the door of his loft and Lilly bolted up from the couch draped in the blanket. “Where have you been? I woke up and you were gone.”

Brandon held her fast to him and grateful she was in his arms. “I’m fine. I only went for a drive.” He brushed her hair and kissed her head with relief.

“A drive? At two in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” was all he said and led her to the sofa. He sat and pulled her down with him.

Lilly’s head rested on his shoulder. “I was worried about you.”

Brandon kissed her again and squeezed an arm around her. “I’m sorry. I’m back now.”

“But—“

“Shh.” Brandon stopped her, wanting to forget the events of the last hour. “Let’s try to get some sleep ok. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Lilly sighed, but nodded and Brandon lay back against the cushions. Lilly snuggled against him, despite his lack of explanation and he breathed, relieved for her compliance. There would be plenty of time for confessions later.

COVER REVEAL- Christina Tetreault’s Redeeming the Billionaire

Billionaire Trent Sherbrooke works hard and plays harder. He’s never once cared what the media or society says about him, until now. Intent on making his way into the United States Senate, Trent hires campaign advisor Marty Phillips. A ruthless force in politics he’ll stop at nothing to get his candidate elected.

After a chance encounter throws local small business owner Addison Raimono in Trent’s path, Marty believes his found Trent’s ticket into Washington.

Ignoring his conscious that insists he leave Addison alone, Trent sets out to win her over. Soon what he assumed would be a relationship to salvage his reputation turns into so much more. But can a relationship started on a lie ever survive?

Interior designer Addison Raimono doesn’t have time for a romantic relationship. She’s to busy keeping her fledging business afloat, but then again a man like Trent Sherbrooke doesn’t enter a woman’s life everyday.

Interior designer Addison Raimono doesn’t have time for a romantic relationship. She’s to busy keeping her fledging business afloat, but then again a man like Trent Sherbrooke doesn’t enter a woman’s life everyday.

Sisters – The Second Love Story

My grandmother Kathleen and her identical twin Eileen

“I held my twin to a higher standard than my other sisters.” My grandmother Kathleen once said about her identical twin, Eileen.

As a romance writer the first part thing I think of when putting together a story is, who is going to fall in love and how are they going to do that.  In Falling for Shock, not only do I have the beautiful love story of Layla and Oliver, but I also have the more familial love story of Layla and her twin sister Lucy.  What would one sister give to help another and how far would they go to risk their own life for their sibling?

Luckily, I didn’t have to go too far for research into the world of twins. Twins are a prevalent part of my family. Over four generations we have racked up thirty-seven sets of twins, including my grandmother and her sister and my two sisters, Kelli and Kristin. Kelli and Kristin are identical twins just like Layla and Lucy Brooks and since I grew up with them I often found myself on the outside looking into their strange little world. They had their own language as kids, dreamed the same, finished each other’s sentences, said the same things at the same times, felt each other’s pain and many, many, many other weird coincidences… it would take a full novel just to list their weirdness.

Instead of being technical and going through my twin journey while I wrote my book, I decided to ask the many sets of twins or mothers of twins if the twins are too little, one simple question: What is the best and worst thing about being a twin? Now the cool thing about this impromptu survey is in some cases I didn’t ask the twins this question while the other was around.  I even went so far to  make separate phone calls or texts in order to receive these answers. The ones who have an asterisk by their names are the ones who were asked separately and take note of their answers.

 

Identical Sisters, Kristin Calise & Kelli Pirro

Identical Sisters, Kristin Calise & Kelli Pirro

*Kristin Calise:

Best: My twin understands me like no one else because she are an extension of me.

Worst: With the twin bond comes a sense of morality – pain is greater because not only am I watching my sister go through something horrific but I’m feeling it as well. I’m living it too.

*Kelli Pirro:

Best:  I like being a twin because there is an extra me. My twin always knows what I’m thinking and feeling because it’s what she would be thinking  and feeling herself, on her own.

Worst:  Superficially, I hate when people compare us together, especially physically. If I’m heavier or if she’s heavier there’s judgment or comments like, “oh your sister is skinner”.  But on a more deeper level I hate when their pain becomes your pain, too. Not that we magically share pain, but if she’s  hurt, then I am too because I’m watching her being hurt and emotionally seeing her in a pain is pain for me.

 

 

Identical sisters LeAnna Wilcox and Amanda Granner

Identical sisters LeAnna Wilcox and Amanda Granner

*LeAnna Wilcox:

Best:  Always having someone there to play with/talk to. And double the “stuff” (clothes, toys, etc).
Worst: Always being considered a pair instead of as individuals. Like one won’t get invited to a party because someone doesn’t want to invite the other twin.

*Amanda Granner:

Best: Always having a friend who knows what you are going through. Being able to share twice the stuff growing up and sometimes into adulthood. Also fooling your college friends who think they just saw you on another part of campus.

Worst: Personally, I have a hard time making other close friends because I already have my sister. And being lumped together as one unit.

 

 

Identical sisters Lori Tumolo & Theresa Clark

Identical sisters Lori Tumolo & Theresa Clark

 Theresa Clark:

Best:  The best thing is the connection. There’s nothing like it. All I have to do is give my sister a look and she knows what I’m thinking.

Worst:  The worst thing is being thought of as one being instead of 2 individuals. It was worse when we were younger, but still tends to happen now too.

 Lori Tumolo: 

Best: The best thing is always having a best friend. A friend from birth who will always be there when you need them. And also always having someone who understands you and someone to talk to. The connection. Sometimes it’s like we have the same mind. We know what each other is thinking. And know what the other is going to say before it’s said. Not that it has to be said because we already know.

Worst: The worst thing is there is None. Yeah we get asked every time we go out if we are sisters. Like no, we are not sisters we just look exactly alike but have never seen each other before! But really nothing about being a twin is bad. I love it.

 

Fraternal sisters, Cheryl Davis & Nancy Holincheck

Fraternal sisters, Cheryl Davis & Nancy Holincheck

Cheryl Davis :

Best: The best is always having someone to play with when growing up. I love being a twin. I would not change it for the world.

Worst:  Being compared to one another when growing up by everyone from other parents to teachers to friends. It never ends. The other worst is never having my own birthday lol.

 

 

 

Jessica C (Fraternal twin):

Best: Is having  such an unexplainable bond with her brother. We have a 6th sense about each other and know when the other is sad, sick, happy. The bond we share is the most unexplainable, extraordinary, treasured thing in my life.”

Worst: The worst part to being a twin to always being considered a “package deal”. Since my twin is a boy, it cause a lot of conflict and hurt feelings growing up.

 

 

Fraternal brother and sister, Jana Brekken & Jeff Leake

Fraternal brother and sister, Jana Brekken & Jeff Leake

 *Jana Brekken:  

Best: Always having a best friend. I’ve met other twins who aren’t as close with their sibling but that’s not the case with us.

Worst: Well, I would say sharing clothes if I had a sister, but I don’t (definitely one of the advantages of having a twin brother), so I’d have to say when people ask if we are identical. Uh, no, we’re a boy and a girl, it’s kind of impossible to be identical.

*Jeff Leake:

Best: I like having a sibling my same age, because we can go through things together and they know how it feels.

Worst: I’d have to say, always being associated with your sibling as if you are the same person.  Also, I’ve been asked at least fifty times whether I’m an identical twin or fraternal and that’s after I tell them I have a twin sister.

 

Mothers of Twins have some stories too!

My mother and her girls, including her identical daughters.

My mother and her girls, including her identical daughters.

My mother (mother to identical twins Kelli & Kristin): 

Best: One of my favorite, most enlightened memories of being a mother of twins is the morning I had my first ultrasound where I found out I was having twins. My husband was getting the car after the appointment and I was standing in front of a large picture window lost in awe of the miracle that was given to me. I had to thank God right then and there for this incredible blessing.

Some other positives were:

-Being stopped all the time and asked questions about the girls.

- I love seeing how close my twins are. They always have each other and they truly are two bodies who understand one mind.

Worst: No one is allowed in the circle of twindom. It’s an exclusive club and it can be hurtful, but at the same time I am glad they are close.

Some more negatives:

- Being pregnant was horrific! It felt like aliens took over my body and all I could do is let them.

- My husband and I didn’t sleep for two years during the infant and toddler years.

- I love babies and I wanted to hug and snuggle my tiny twins, but because they were so much work to do, I couldn’t shower them with an undivided attention like I had with my singleton.

- On the downside of being stopped in public though, I also had a three year old who was left out when her sisters were getting all the attention.

- Emotionally, when I punished one of them it was as if I was punishing both because the other would cry. Their sympathy was so great for each other.

 

Melissa (mother of identical twin girls E & L) :

Best thing about the girls being twins is when they do funny things and they both laugh in the same laugh at it.

The worst is when they tattle on each other.

 

Erin McRae (mother to A & J siblings 1 year apart in age):

My kids are 12 months and 5 days apart. They look alike, act alike, and are best friends. They aren’t twins, but twins do run in my family. My cousin (who is a twin) says that A and J remind her of her and her brother. They act like twins, they even have their own language. They carry on conversations that no one but the two of them have any idea what they are talking about. They also always to to one another first for comfort. I love that they are so close.

 

Do you know, are related to, or are you a twin yourself and have a story to tell… or if you want to add to the Best and Worst things about being a twin? Then please leave it in the comments below!

 

REMEMBER ENTER TO WIN SOME AWESOME PRIZE HERE DURING THE BLOG TOUR: a Rafflecopter giveaway

THE PRIZES ARE INCREDIBLE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FALLING FOR SHOCK BLOG TOUR

LET’S GET THIS BLOG TOUR STARTED!!

Thank you so much to Jen Freligh for assisting me on this amazing tour. Without your help I would be nothing! You are awesome!

 

Blog Tour list

 

And as always Falling for Shock ebook and paperback can be found on here at anytime: http://amzn.to/1hcucNu

MONDAY, JUNE 2:                                    TUESDAY, JUNE 3:

Books Beyond 50 Shades                   Bookish Laurel

Mixed Emotions Book Blog               Reading by the Blog

 

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 4:                             THURSDAY, JUNE 5:

Book Consumed Diva                             Henry Cavill Org

Novelist Eryn LaPlant                              In Stefter’s Humble Opinion

 

FRIDAY, JUNE 6:                                        MONDAY, JUNE 9:

Crazy Daisy Books                                   Book Lover’s Obsession

Happily Ever After                                    Midwest Book Lovers

 

TUESDAY, JUNE 10:                                WEDNESDAY, JUNE 11:

Curl up & Read                                          MJ Schiller

Fictional Fantasies                               My Secret Book Spot

True Story Book Blog

 

Thursday, June 12:                             Thursday, June 26:

Cecily’s Book Review                          VoElla – Voice of Entertainment

Hooked on Books                                                               for Women

Orchard Book Club

 

 Along with each blog stop you will find a Rafflecopter give away for some awesome swag prizes!! Click the link below and follow the directions to enter for the following items:

3 Falling for Shock Signed Paperbacks

 

5 Shock Keychains

3 Shock Keychains

a Rafflecopter giveaway

5 Couple Bookmarks

5 Couple Bookmarks

5 Cover Bookmarks

5 Cover Bookmarks

Dreaming in History

multiculturalnight

Not many times can I say that being a Historian has brought me heartache, but I experienced it last night. After watching The World Wars on History channel this week, I had a dream – or nightmare to be more specific-  that Hitler and the monstrosities he caused were happening now. He was eradicating the Jewish and multi-racial friends and family that I love beyond words. We were blockaded in an abandoned school waiting to see who was going to go down this black hall next. One after one went some of my cousins, my sisters, my husband, my friend’s husband, my brother-in-law. I thought they would take me next but they didn’t. Those of us who met the criteria could stay, but we had to watch what was happening. I was trapped in the dream, crying out for the loss my family, my sister and friend’s husbands and in complete and utter shock, watching everyone around me falling apart with Hitler and Mussolini laughing at our sorrow. Cold, painful fright gripped me. I wanted out of the school, out of my dream and somehow I finally woke myself up.

Unconscious tears had wet my cheeks and I turned seeing the familiar body-shaped lump in the bed next to me… my husband. I woke him up, causing him to fret and gently he peeled our covers away, asking, “What’s wrong with you? You’re sweating.”

I clung to him, saying I’d had a nightmare, but it was real! I couldn’t help but think if World War II had happened now and those monsters were around, the days I know as history would be my present day. No more loved ones, no more family, no more incredible people in the world.

My husband tried to pacify me but I couldn’t go back to sleep. Instead, I thought about what it would have truly been like to live in Europe during the 1940s. Those tyrants were real back then and someone had gone through what I’d experienced in my dream in their own life and time.  How frightened and devastated those poor people must have been!  Through my dream, I had the tiniest glimpse into that world and it was a deathly scary place. My mind can only imagine what it would have been like, but real, beautiful people lived through it.

So today, more than ever, I mourn and ache for those lost during the Holocaust – whether they were the ones who perished or if they were broken ones who watched a loved one be taken, abused, and killed. I didn’t know any of them personally, but I do know them in spirit. They live in the diverse people I know in my life right now. They are the ones, should history ever repeat itself, I would always fight for even when they can’t fight for themselves.