Release Blitz for Ugly by Margaret McHeyzer & #giveaway

Title: Ugly
Author: Margaret McHeyzer
Genre: YA/NA
 Release Date: October 26, 2015
Blurb
If I were dead, I wouldn’t be able to see.
If I were dead, I wouldn’t be able to feel. 
If I were dead, he’d never raise his hand to me again. 
If I were dead, his words wouldn’t cut as deep as they do. 
If I were dead, I’d be beautiful and I wouldn’t be so…ugly.

I’m not dead…but I wish I was.

Purchase Links
$2.99 for a limited time only
Price will change to $3.99 soon after release
AMAZON US / UK / AU
Trailer
Prologue
It’s days like today I wish I was dead.“Lily Anderson, you get your ugly ass out here right this minute. Don’t make me come after you,” Daddy screams.

He’s so angry. I knew the moment I heard him come home from work I was in for it. I was in my bedroom, lying on the floor trying to do my math. He slammed the front door so hard the windows in my room shook.

And then I knew, I knew I was in for it.

“Lily Anderson!” he yells again.

As soon as I heard him yell I ran to my hiding spot. I’m inside the closet in the hallway, wedged as far into the corner as I can get. Mom’s old coat hangs in front of me and I can still smell a faint waft of the perfume she used to wear.

“Lily Anderson!” he shouts. I can hear the anger in his voice and I can already feel the pain he’s going to inflict on me when he opens the closet door. I know what’s coming.

I close my eyes tight, scrunching them up so no light can seep through. I put my hands over my ears so I can’t hear him.

“I swear to God; if I have to find you, you will not sit for a month.”

My knees are folded into my chest. I’m trying to make myself small, invisible, so he forgets I’m here. I’m rocking myself, trying to block out what he’s saying.

School is safe. School is safe. School is safe. I keep repeating the mantra because in a few short hours I’ll be back at school. Maybe tomorrow I can go to the library after school, stay there until it closes and then sneak in after Dad’s passed out, because he’s had too much to drink.

It was never like this before. Ever.

I’m twelve years old and I can remember when Mom, Dad, and I were all happy. But that was years ago. It’s been a long time since there’s been any happiness in this house.

Well, before Mom died anyway, and not a day since.

Mom died when I was nine. I don’t remember much about her, except I remember her telling me how ugly I am. How life would be better if I was taken away from them. How I’ll never be anything, because I’m stupid and ugly.

Sometimes I dream happy things. Like me, Mom, Dad and a little blond-haired boy all going for a picnic. The sun beamed down on us as we played outside and laughed. We’d eat yummy sandwiches Mom made for us, and we’d drink homemade lemonade. We’d spend hours outside, laughing and talking and just having fun. Mom would tell me how pretty I am, and how much she loved me. She would play with my hair, braid it, and then we’d go and pick bright flowers to take home and put in a vase. Dad would smile and call us “his girls”, always kissing Mom and hugging me. Dad would put the little boy on his shoulders and run around the park, trying to catch the clouds.

I love those dreams, and I hold onto them; wishing they were real. But I’ve never had a mom like that, and my dad doesn’t talk much unless it’s with his fists, or to tell me how ugly and useless I am.

I feel him walking around the house. The floorboards creak and the vibrations from his footsteps come through the floor to where my bottom is. I close my eyes tighter and try and breathe as quietly as I can.

Please go away, Daddy. Please go away.

My heart is beating so fast. My hands are shaking and I’m trying really hard not to think about what’s going to happen the minute he opens the closet door.

Shhh, it’s so quiet. The only sound is my heart thrumming in my ears. Nothing else. Not a whisper, not a rattle…nothing.

Maybe Daddy’s left. Maybe he’s gone to the pub to have a few drinks. Maybe, just maybe, he’s left…forever.

I take a deep breath and just relax for a moment. My shoulders drop and I finally stop rocking.

Slowly I take my hands down from my ears, and I’m so happy because I can’t hear him yelling at me. I can’t hear him at all.

Gradually, I begin to unscrunch my eyes from the way I’ve tightly closed them. But something’s not right. There’s light coming into the closet.

I don’t even get a chance to open them fully before a rough hand reaches in, latches onto my ponytail and yanks.

“I told you it’d be worse for you if I had to find you,” Dad says, as he drags me out of the closet by my hair.

I’m desperately trying to hold onto my head so he doesn’t rip my hair out. My feet are trying to find traction on the dirty floorboards.

“Please, Daddy. Please. You’re hurting me,” I begin sobbing as I plead with him.

“Then your ugly ass should’ve come when I called you, you stupid bitch. You’re fucking worthless, you ugly idiot,” he says. But now his voice is calm as he continues to drag me toward the family room.

That’s when he’s most scary. When his voice is low and his eyes are filled with hate.

He throws me against the side of the sofa and takes a step back to look at me.

I look up and can see he’s the angriest I’ve ever seen him. “You dumb, ugly piece of shit,” he says, as he paces back and forth in front of me.

“Sorry, Daddy. Whatever I did, I’m so sorry.” I cower into myself, trying to make myself as small as possible.

“You’re just too fucking stupid, aren’t you?” he spits toward me as he brings his hand up to scratch at his chin.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. Tears are falling hot and fast down my cheeks. My head hurts from where he was pulling my hair, but I don’t dare try to rub the spot.

“You ugly fuck.” He kicks a boot into my leg.

The pain is instant and my leg feels like it’s shattered. “Please, Daddy,” I beg again, burying my face into my hands.

But ‘please’ never seems to work.

Nothing does.

I’ve just got to take the beatings, because that’s what stupid, ugly girls do.
Author Bio

There’s something about the written word that is pure magic.

Possibly it’s the fact there are 26 letters in the English alphabet, and they can create something so beautiful or so empowering they’re capable to change our lives.

How important is it that we break suit and stretch our minds?

I like to think of myself as ‘unique’. My stories aren’t for everyone, and sometimes I may push what you believe to be ‘normal’.

Normal is subjective.

I prefer to be known as a person who’s never been ‘bound by custom’ but is ‘unique by choice’.

I hope you do read and enjoy my stories.

Author Links
GOODREADS
WEBSITE

Giveaway

Re-Release Blitz- Chef Pierre by Margaret McHeyzer with #giveaway

Title: Chef Pierre
Author: Margaret McHeyzer
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 Re-release Date: October 23, 2015
Blurb
Holly Walker had everything she’d ever dreamed about – a happy marriage and being mum to beautiful brown-eyed Emma – until an accident nineteen months ago tore her world apart. Now she’s a widow and single mother to a boisterous little 7-year-old girl, looking for a new start. Ready to take the next step, Holly has found herself a job as a maître d’ at Table One, a once-acclaimed restaurant in the heart of Sydney. But one extremely arrogant Frenchman isn’t going to be easy to work with…

Twenty years ago, Pierre LeRoux came to Australia, following the stunning Aussie girl he’d fallen in love with and married. He and his wife put their personal lives on hold, determined for Pierre to take Sydney’s culinary society by storm. Just as his bright star was on the upswing, tragedy claimed the woman he was hopelessly in love with. He had been known as a Master Chef, but since his wife’s death he has become known as Monster Chef.
Can two broken people rebuild their lives and find happiness once more?
Purchase Links
On sale for 99c
AMAZON US / UK / AU
FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED
Excerpt

“Eva, are you here?” I wait for a few moments to pass, praying she’s not really gone, that she’ll appear beside me and wake me from the nightmare I’m stuck in.

“What do I do? How can I come back to living? I have nothing left, mon amour. You left me and took my heart with you. I know you didn’t want to leave, but you’re gone and I don’t know what to do. You were the only thing that ever made sense, and now you’re no longer with me. I don’t know how to go through the next forty or fifty years without you.”

I look up at the majestic moon. Maybe she can give me some insight as to why I’m still breathing.

“I’m struggling, mon amour, really struggling. Every moment of the day I think of you, and I pray my time to find you is near. Please tell me, whisper a word, touch me with your warmth, anything. I just need you to guide me through this. I need my angel’s soft voice to take my pain away.”

A gentle wind kisses my cheeks, softly drifting around me, caressing my skin with tenderness. I blink quickly and stand, leaning my arms against the railing.

“Are you here?” I ask quietly, hoping to hear her voice just one more time. “What can I do to touch you? Even for one short moment, to see you, to hold you, to kiss your warm lips, just one more time.”

The wind tenderly embraces me, enveloping me in a sensation so intense my heart begins to pound inside my chest.

“Show me what I need to do,” I beg the breeze.

It continues to dance around me, stopping for a moment only to start again with the same delicate choreography.

She’s here, she must be. I’ve called on Eva for help, and she’s here to save me.

Mon amour,” I whisper as I close my eyes.

A delicate floral scent floats past me. I catch just a small whiff of it and know my love is near.

“Help me survive,” I sigh, hoping Eva can help me rip down the walls I’ve built so high around me.

I stretch out my arms while tilting my head up toward the sky. “Show me,” I say in a breathless whisper.

A tingle runs over my exposed throat, a soft, small brush awakening the life inside me. Buried deep inside this dead body, a tiny flicker tries to illuminate my dying soul. The curtain of gloom is struggling to lift. Deep inside, I can feel it trying to fight the pull of the heavy weight.

A flashback to our wedding takes me back to the day Eva walked toward me, her hair loosely falling over her shoulders, a ring of daisies around her head, her feet bare as she walked in the sand holding one single yellow tulip. Her smile was so beautiful; her eyes alive and full of love.

Eva shyly lowered her gaze as she glided to me, the rays of the sun sweeping over her blonde hair and making her look like she had a halo guiding her to me. The smell of the ocean intoxicated us as the salt clung to our lips.

“I’ll never fall as long as you are near.” It was a sentence I had meant with every fibre of my being when I spoke during our exchange of wedding vows.

I can feel the tears breaking through. I let them roll down my cheeks, allowing me to remember the good times, the loving times. The love we shared, the way my heart ached for her touch, how my blood heated whenever Eva was near me, the small smiles she’d give me when she thought I wasn’t watching, falling asleep holding hands and knowing we’d never let go.

“I’m sorry I let you down. I’ve fallen and I don’t know how to stand again.”

The wind swirls around me, nuzzling close to me, gently stroking me, encouraging me with love and the strength to rise and finally breathe.

“I will try to stand without you. I’ll try and make you proud of the man you married. I am so sorry for giving up.”

Author Bio

There’s something about the written word that is pure magic.

Possibly it’s the fact there are 26 letters in the English alphabet, and they can create something so beautiful or so empowering they’re capable to change our lives.

How important is it that we break suit and stretch our minds?

I like to think of myself as ‘unique’. My stories aren’t for everyone, and sometimes I may push what you believe to be ‘normal’.

Normal is subjective.

I prefer to be known as a person who’s never been ‘bound by custom’ but is ‘unique by choice’.

I hope you do read and enjoy my stories.

Author Links
Giveaway