Blog Tour: Tagan's Child by Amelia Ford
Title: Tagan’s Child
Author: Amelia Ford
Publisher: Carroll Publishing
Pages: 444
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Format: Paperback/Kindle
“His terminology struck me as odd and then I realised he was talking about Toby. I snatched my hand from his and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up like the hackles on a dog. The unease I felt when I first saw him returned…”
The day after the first anniversary of her sister’s death, twenty six year old Sophie McAllister is paid an unexpected visit from a handsome stranger who delivers some disturbing news about her eight year old nephew and ward. Just when Sophie thought her life was getting back on track, she is forced to put her trust in a man with an extraordinary secret. She begins a perilous journey that not only threatens everything she holds dear, but also challenges her innermost fears. Does Sophie have the courage to defy her enemies, face her fears and open her heart to a man who promises a future that is out of this world?
A captivating love story about one woman’s struggle to protect, let go and love.
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Excerpt:
“Goodnight
lovely boy.” I stroked the side of my eight year old nephew’s
pale face, noticing the purplish smudges under his eyes caused by a
day of crying. I tucked his duvet in around his shoulders. “Your
mummy would be so proud of you. I’m so proud of you, it’s been a
difficult day and you’ve coped with it so well.”
“I
miss her auntie Sophie.” His voice wobbled and I watched a tear
roll down each cheek. My heart went out to him. There had been
times today when my grief had threatened to engulf me, and yet in
spite of his tears and his own grief he had tried to be my pillar of
strength.
“Come
here.” I gathered him in my arms and he began to sob quietly into
my shoulder.
It
was the first anniversary of Katie’s death. A year ago today her
life had been snuffed out on a lane just outside our village when her
car had skidded on a patch of ice causing her to lose control and
nose-dive into a ditch. She suffered fatal head injuries. It was
the tragic end of a young woman’s life, the end of a doting mother
and the end of my very special sister.
“I
know you miss her, my darling, I miss her too.” My throat
constricted. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath willing my
tears to stay put. The pain my sister’s death had caused could
only be matched by the pain I felt for my nephew’s loss. No child
should ever have to suffer the death of their mother.
Toby
took a shuddering breath. “Do you think she can see us?” He wiped
his eyes.
“I’m
sure she can.” I gave him a reassuring squeeze. I sat back and
put my hands on his shoulders. “Your mummy is with you every second
of every day, watching over you, watching you grow into a clever,
funny, and wonderful young man.”
He
gave me a weak smile.
“She
loves you and is counting on you to hold your head up high and be
brave.”
He
sat up a little straighter and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his
pyjamas. “I mustn’t let her down must I?”
His
look of fragile determination swelled my heart. “You could never
let her down.”
He
was a handsome little boy, tall and muscular for an eight year old
with a natural talent for sport and a distinct phobia of
hairdressers.
I
brushed a curl away from his right eye. I felt a desperate urge to
reassure him and let him know he wasn’t alone. “I want you to
know that I’ll always be here for you. I may not be your mummy but
I will always look after you and keep you safe as if I were.”
Toby
nodded and his bottom lip trembled.
I
wasn’t sure I could hold it together for much longer. I got to my
feet. “It’s getting late and you’ve got school tomorrow.”
I
said this maybe a little too brusquely as I struggled to hold back
the tears. I needed to go downstairs and bury myself in the sofa so
Toby couldn’t hear my sobs. But not before I had made a
significant dent in the bottle of rosé chilling in the fridge.
I
stood up and switched the lamp off beside his bed.
“I
love you Auntie Sophie.”
“I
love you too,” I said, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I
bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Sleep tight and see
you in the morning.”
I
made my way down to the kitchen taking a deep breath and exhaling
slowly in the hope that it would ease the pain lodged in my chest.
It had been a tough day and I felt sad and wrung out. I knew that
Toby would be asleep in a matter of minutes. I, on the other hand,
would struggle to find any respite in sleep until the early hours of
tomorrow morning. Insomnia had become my new best friend since
Katie’s death. Why was it that, as an adult, I had lost that
ability to switch off? I envied that about children.
I
let Toby’s dog, a Weimaraner called Mungo, out for a last wee
before retrieving the bottle of wine from the fridge. All I wanted
to do now was curl up on the sofa and cry until I couldn’t cry
anymore. I made my way into the lounge and poured myself a glass of
wine. I downed it and stared into the fire roaring in the log
burner. My tears began to fall. I put my glass on the coffee table
and buried my face in the cushions. I sobbed for my sister and the
future she would never have, for Toby who would never feel his
mother’s comforting arms around him again, and for myself, who felt
the loss of Katie so keenly that it had been a constant weight
tugging at my heart over the last twelve months.
Eventually,
my tears subsided and my grief was reduced to dry, chest heaving
sobs. Despite feeling exhausted, I knew if I went to bed now I would
only lie there, staring at the ceiling in the dark. I scoured the
sitting room for my Kindle. The days I could cope with, I could keep
busy and push the shadows of grief to the background, but it was the
nights I struggled with most when the house was quiet and dark.
Darkness only seemed to emphasise my sadness and fear.
Amelia
Ford lives in Kent, UK with her husband, three children and a variety
of four legged and feathered friends. Tagan's
Child
is her debut novel. She is working on her second novel due to be
released later this year.
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More Information
Media
Contact:
Dorothy
Thompson
Pump
Up Your Book
P.O.
Box 643
Chincoteague
Island, Virginia 23336
Email:
thewriterslife@gmail.com
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