MUSE MONDAY
Please welcome Mona Sedrak. Her book is a heart tug for sure.
Have you ever lost someone you loved––a spouse, child,
parent, or best friend? When the shock and pain of the loss was fresh, and your
life was in a tailspin, were you convinced you would never recover? In the
moment, we all believe the adage, “Time heals all wounds,” is rubbish. But the
human spirit is resilient. Six Months
details the struggle of one woman who lives through every mother’s nightmare
but recovers and rebuilds her life. Then her life is filled with beauty once
more when she finds a new love. New loves never replace what you lost, but they
can help you find closure and enrich your life in ways you never thought possible.
Blurb:
For twenty years, Mikala Jacobson had it all: loyal friends,
a precious little girl, and a man who adores her. Then double tragedy strikes
and her perfect world shatters. Good friends, Rena and Jake are instantly
by her side, protecting her from her husband sordid secret life and his final
drunken confession. Secrets, lies, and the truth of Molly—Mikala’s daughter’s
death, culminate in a healing process. Mikala finds strength to rebuild and
redefine her life. As her spirit and heart heal, she not only finds closure,
but the beauty of a new love built upon an old friendship.
Bio:
Mona Sedrak lives a double life. By day, she is a
suit-wearing, prim and proper, professor, administrator, researcher, and
lecturer. By night, she is a PJ wearing dreamer and writer of books that make
people sigh, smile, cry, laugh, and fall in love. She lives in Ohio with her
husband of thirty-two years, a cranky, geriatric maltipoo, and an obnoxious
Amazon parrot who runs the house and terrifies its inhabitants. Mona has a long
publishing history in academia, but she started writing fiction recently.
Contacts:
Website http://www.monasedrak.com
Twitter:
@AuthorMSedrak
Instagram:
authormonasedrak
Buy Links:
Amazon: https://goo.gl/gRmsMr
The Wild Rose Press: https://goo.gl/1emrMC
Ibooks: https://goo.gl/yD7qfX
Excerpt:
Wandering from room to room, she memorized every detail of the life she and
David built––the family photos lining the mantel, the hand-carved jewelry box
David bought her on their honeymoon in Salzburg, and Molly’s tea set arranged
on the coffee table for evening tea. A cold, hollow ache took residence in her
belly where the knot of dread made its appearance that morning. The sensation
expanded with alarming speed, dug in deep, and planted roots. Like an unwanted
guest appearing without warning and bringing too many bags for just a brief
visit, sorrow moved in, shifted, and stretched then got comfortable for the
long haul.
When
the house line rang, Mikala froze, and her gaze darted to the cordless on the
couch. Her breath stuttered. Her heart seized. Clarity forced its way past the
tentacles of sheer terror strangling, dominating, and paralyzing her. She shook
her head and took a step forward, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness and
nausea so tremendous, she doubled over wrapping her arms around her womb. Mikala’s
entire being, inside and out, shook as her heart tumbled about in her chest
without a set time, tempo, or rhythm. Her breaths grew shallow and choppy, and
her legs turned to rubber. The cord tethering Molly to her and this world had
been severed.
The
telephone rang four times before Mikala forced her body to cooperate. God, she
hadn’t wanted to answer. She hadn’t wanted to know. She’d even considered not
answering, protecting herself and her beautiful family from the annihilation of
their world. People said she was strong––the strongest woman they knew. They
said in time she would heal. She would build another life. And God didn’t give
you more than you could handle. People were idiots. They had no idea how in her
head she raged. She howled, and shrieked, and wailed...and begged, and pleaded
for mercy. All day. All night. Every day. Every night.
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