An Unexpected Bride Book Excerpt and Giveaway
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September 20, 2011
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Hello everyone! I'm here again for another book tour. You know, I love book tours! It's a way for us book lovers get closer to authors. Now let's get started! I'm gonna let you guys take a peak on what's 'An Unexpected Bride' by Shadonna Richards is all about.
SYNOPSIS
Desperate to fulfill her ailing grandfather’s last wish to see her settle
down and get married, Emma Wiggins, a 30-year-old, career-focused executive
tells him a little white lie on his deathbed that she is in fact engaged--to
her boss, deliciously handsome and emotionally unavailable, Evan Fletcher.
The situation takes an unexpected turn when her grandfather's condition
improves slightly and to her shock, he goes ahead and arranges a wedding
ceremony at his hospital bedside before he passes on. Now, all Emma has to do
is convince unsuspecting, commitment-phobic Evan to tie the knot with her in
seven days. Can love blossom in the most unlikely
situation?
BOOK EXCERPT:
“You
mean to tell me, you can’t find a decent man? Not one?”
“Grampa!”
Emma Wiggins felt the blood siphon from her face. She could not believe she was having this
conversation.
She
shifted her hips uncomfortably on the hospital bedside of her ailing
grandfather, trying to find the right words to say. She knew quite well where
he was going with his comment. He was desperate to see her settle down, get
married and have kids one day. But after her previously tainted relationships
left her with emotional burns to 70 percent of her heart, no way was she going down
that
yellow brick road to happiness again. There’s no place like home…alone.
“Oh,
Gramps!” she whispered, tilting her head to the side, gently stroking his
wrinkled forehead with her free hand as if comforting a fragile kitten.
“Look, I
promise you, I won’t end up…dying alone and penniless. You have my word on
it—okay?”
Her
whispered reassurance was virtually inaudible as she ingestedwhat
seemed like a handful of sand in her throat. Was that a promise she could even
keep? She wanted to give him hope, something to cheer about. Especially now as
he neared the end of his long time battle with what he called "a dreadful
opponent that had a habit of sneaking up at the wrong time—prostate
cancer."
The
long-term care unit at Mercy Springs Memorial Hospital was unusually quiet
during the busy lunch hour. The place was tranquil except for the sound of the
air conditioner gently humming in the background and the odd clanking of knives
scraping plates as some patients ate their meals. The aroma of hospital food
filled the air. The scent of fresh cut flowers she’d bought and placed at the
bedside table wafted to her nostrils. She eyed his untouched lunch tray. The
smell of mashed potato with gravy and sliced beef reminded her she hadn't
eaten.
Laced
with guilt, Emma glanced down at her watch. She didn’t want to leave him. Not
ever. Not after what the doctor told her about his prognosis. But she didn’t
want to push her luck at work either. Her boss, Evan Fletcher, president of
Fletcher Advertising where she worked as an account executive had been more
than kind already to extend her lunch hour to visit her ailing Gramps. They had
the pivotal conference call meeting in half an hour with one of their biggest
potential clients. She didn’t want to blow this. Not now.
This was
a career clincher for her. But speaking of careers.... Her grandfather, whom
she’d always referred to as Gramps when she was a little girl and had trouble
pronouncing Grandpa, just finished a fresh round of chastising his only
granddaughter for putting career ahead of love and family. If only he knew. She
would love to have a family and a husband. But…
Her
grandfather, Mr. Wiggins, reclined weakly and peered at her with droopy
eyelids. His favorite pair of thick brown spectacles propped on the tip of his
nose. He felt comfortable with them on, even when resting. The head of his bed
elevated to a ninety degree angle. The
green and white hospital bed sheets covered him up to his chest. He hadn’t
eaten much during the past few days. He appeared older than his eighty years.
Emma knew her grandfather loved her and wanted the best for her. She was also
painfully aware that he regretted only having one child, a son, Emma’s father.
Oh, she looked like her dad. Deep, almond shaped brown eyes that sparkled,
dark, curly long ebony hair that shined. And a dimpled smile to melt even the
coldest of hearts. Always willing, always helpful.
“I know
that silly guy hurt you when he left you but—"
“Oh,
Gramps. Why are you talking about that now? I’m so over him.” She emphasized
the "so" and bit down on her lower lip. She wished she could simply
delete the bitter memory of her ex-fiancé’s betrayal from her mind. She longed
to erase the baggage of emotional scars he packed her off with. Yes, her hope
was singed during that nasty breakup period, but she couldn’t dwell on
relationships now. Her work was her love. And so was Gramps.
“Sometimes
you need to take your messed up relationships with a grain of grace so you can
appreciate when the right one comes along. I just don’t want to see you let him
ruin your chances of happiness with someone else. In hindsight, I can say that
other guy was a goof, not worthy of you!” He struggled to lean forward and
touched her cascading mane of dark, spiralling curls.
Emma was
amazed at his strength. She didn’t realise that many palliative patients had
energy before their inevitable demise. In fact, she was always in amazement
when she visited the quiet unit. Patients were up and about, walking,
conversing, and partaking of typical activities. Of course, not all patients
were responsive and ambulatory. It was a mixture of diagnosis, prognosis, and
illness processes. The ages of the patients ranged from eighteen-years-old to
those who reached their ninety-ninth year.
“You
realise you’re my only grandchild.” A muffled cough emitted from his throat. He
grabbed a tissue from the side table and covered his mouth with it, coughed up,
and wiped his mouth clean before tossing the Kleenex in the black garbage bin
by his bedside. “The Wiggins line will
be finished if you don’t marry and have kids, pumpkin,” he emphasised
tearfully, water filling his eyes. Emma could barely watch him cry.
Just
then, one of the nurses, a perky redhead sporting bright pink scrubs, bought in
a plate with a slice of cake on it. Her cheeks glowing red.
“Oh,
what’s the occasion?” Emma was glad to change the subject as she peered at the
icing on the cake.
“Oh, this
is from Mr. Harry next door. His granddaughter just got married in the room.”
“Married?
Here?”
“Yes.”
The nurse placed the cake on the table before the untouched tray of food. “We
sometimes get requests for wedding ceremonies to take place at the bedside for
palliative patients who are too ill to otherwise attend. He wanted to give his
daughter away. We arranged for the chaplain to do the honors, but sometimes
patient's family members bring in their own minister.” The nurse smiled and
fixed Emma's grandfather’s pillow and repositioned him before darting out of
the room.
Emma
couldn’t help but notice her grandfather’s fresh round of tears.
“What’s
wrong, Gramps?” Surprise caught her voice.
“I just
wished it were you, pumpkin. It’s my only wish before I go to be with your dear
old grandma to see you get married, settle down, have a family. You’re hiding
yourself in your work. There’s so much more to life than work, you know. We all
need love, pumpkin. It won’t be nice to be alone when I’m gone—" His voice
cracked and broke off. “I just hate to think you’ll be alone with no one. Just
don’t give up too easy on finding true love.”
Emma’s
heart took a serious plunge into the deep end of despair. She could bear no
more. If only he knew it was just as unsettling to her as it was to him to see
her in this state.
Lord
knows she tried hard to make things work with her ex-fiancé, of whom she could
barely bring herself to recite his name. But, oh, nothing escaped the careful
observation of her grandfather. He knew her all too well.
Truth
was, she really did
hide behind her work, bury herself in its corporate arms, lose herself to the
company’s aims and objectives.
But it
was the perfect cover. And why not? She’d at least be doing some good service
while keeping her mind busy at the same time.
Why not
pour her heart into working to change images through advertising? Fulfill a need.
Utilize her communications skills to write and design advertisements for
special clients to inform the public about products and services that could
help them to make their lives better. Contribute to economic growth. Yes, there
were some things much more critical than love, Emma tried to convince herself.
Still, she really couldn’t live with herself
knowing the doctor told her in the family meeting earlier that Gramps only had
days to live. Days! How could she not want to see him happy?
Her
large, tearful brown eyes surveyed his aging, graceful face as if each blessed,
earned wrinkle had a story of its own to tell. Her eyes penetrated his dark,
kind, tired eyes glazed over with cataracts. At one time, this same pair of
eyes was so filled with life. Love. Hope.
He was
all she had now.
She
was all he had.
Those
time-honoured crow's-feet in the corners
of his eyes ever so present. Each representing wisdom and sacrifice made to his
country. His family.
“Gramps,
don’t worry. I’m…I’m okay. I-”
His tears
fell hard like the Texas rain. Her grandfather bellowed out in pain. Her
grandfather, the stronghold of the family, loving, determined, but wore his
heart on his shirt sleeves, was never afraid to weep. That took a powerful man
to do that. This same man took her in when everyone else—meaning her
parents—could not care for her.
Soon, the
nurse would come back in and wonder what Emma did to upset this poor, dying
man.
“Gramps,
I didn’t want to tell you before but…I’m seeing someone. I am getting married.”
Liar.
Emma bit
down on her full, defined lips. Anything to make him happy—a dying man’s last
wish. But before Emma could stop herself, she swallowed another hard lump of
reality. What did she just do? Did she just tell a lie to spare his feelings?
She could shoot herself. But she hoped he didn’t hear amongst his own wailing.
As if
someone turned off a faucet, his flow of tears almost dried up immediately.
“What did
you just say, darlin’?” He sniffled and grabbed a tissue at the bedside to dab
at his tears, his shaky hand removed his spectacles while the other free one
wiped his eyes.
“I’m…you
know…” Hesitation. Crackles shadowed her vocal chords.
“Getting
married? Sweetheart, that’s wonderful news. Why didn’t you tell your dear old
Gramps before? Getting me all worried. Who’s the lucky guy? What’s his name?”
He peered over his spectacles. A light seemed to beam from his face.
Okay, now what do I say?
“Um…”
Think,
Emma. Think.
“Evan.”
She could kick herself. By the time she was through she would be beaten and
worn.
“Evan
who?”
Okaaay.
“Fletcher.”
Good Lord. Okay, now I’ve done it. What’s wrong with me?
She tried
to convince herself she wasn’t entirely dishonest. She was seeing her sexy,
heart-stopping, gorgeous boss Evan for the sole purpose of work—every day. They
worked closely at the agency for the past three years—sometimes late nights to
meet tight deadlines, travelling together. He’d promoted her from new grad
receptionist to office manager to account coordinator and possibly more. He’d
always believed in her. She admired him from afar. Though Evan was as distant
as a star in the galaxy from Earth. Okay, so he was a self-professed bachelor
who had made it known to staff he despises the institution called marriage.
He’d never know about this little secret lie she just spilled out to her
grandfather.
Emma’s
BlackBerry vibrated with a gentle hum.
It was the office. Evan probably wanted to know where she was—since they
had that important conference call shortly.
“I’d
love
to see him,” her grandfather blurted out. “When are you going to bring him by
so that we can meet?”
Emma’s entire body stiffened.
More about the Author:
Shadonna enjoys
reading and writing about the magic of romance and the power of love. Winner of
Harlequin’s So You Think You Can Write - 2010 Day Two Challenge, she is a
member of the Romance Writers of America. An Unexpected Bride is her
first novel. She has her BA in Psychology and lives in Canada. You can visit
her at www.shadonnarichards.blogspot.com
or send her an e-mail at Shadonna (at)
ymail (dot) com
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