Author: Brenda Youngerman
Genre: Suspense Thriller.
Part of a series: No.
Length: 230 Pages.
Publisher: Strategic Book Publishing
Release Date: 13 February 2012
This book is from: The author free as part of the tour in exchange for an honest review.
Diane Newsome is the middle child born into a middle-class family. Her older sister, Brittany, has resented her existence from the moment she was born. Unbeknownst to their parents, Brittany convinces Diane that she was placed on the doorstep as an unwanted child, and she dare not make a wrong move or her place in the family will be in jeopardy. Years later, when Diane finally divulges this secret, her parents are aghast, yet her mother still sides with Brittany, even shunning Diane and her children. Then one day Diane comes home to find her entire life has been a lie ... and everything she held true was fabricated. Skewered Halo tells an incredible tale of murder, mayhem and treachery that delves into the bottomless depths of hatred and jealousy.
Brenda Youngerman writes about stories that matter. A southern California native coming from a very large family where she never felt like she fit in. “I was the youngest member of a huge family and I never really felt like I belonged there.”
Her first novel, Private Scars, was an expose of what happens to a victim of domestic abuse when they have never been exposed to it. From the moment the first review came out Youngerman realized her calling… that of the voice of the victims.. those who don’t have the strength to speak for themselves. Since Private Scars (2006), Youngerman has published a novel a year, each one exposing another social issue that those in power choose not to discuss. “If one person is helped by one of my novels, that is a good day.”
Skewered Halo takes a look at the filth behind sibling rivalry that goes unnoticed by inattentive parents. Brenda is currently at work at her eighth and ninth novel (simultaneously).
Links to buy this book.
barnes and noble
Skewered Halo Excerpt...Diane woke with a start. Confused, she didn’t know what day it was or where she was. That had been happening often. She lay in bed with her eyes closed to get her bearings, and then everything came flooding back. I am not letting this get to me again! She flung back the covers, and with determination in her step she turned on the hot water in the shower.
Stepping in, she let the water pummel out of the showerhead onto her tightly stressed shoulders. She adjusted the hot water knob until it wouldn’t turn further, allowing the heat to penetrate her aching body. Slowly adjusting her head to allow the warmth to work its way into the taut muscles of her neck, she began to relax. As the tension gently dissipated, tears began falling down her cheeks.
Not for the first time, she disgustedly looked at the mold growing on the ceiling and along the cracked tiles on the walls. Then she looked down at her feet and noticed the tiny piles of cement that held a handicapped chair from the previous owner. They had been there since they had moved in fifteen years earlier. They’d oftentimes spoken of redoing the master bath, but that, like other subjects, never came to fruition. Suddenly, she found the entire situation hysterical and began to laugh out loud.
“I swear, Diane Newsome Montrose, you need to be committed. You are loony at best.” She turned off the water, stepped out, and grabbed a towel to wrap herself up in. As she stood, looking like a wet zombie, she felt woozy. Perhaps it was the change in temperature, perhaps it was that she hadn’t eaten in days, or perhaps it was . . . hell, it could have been anything! She leaned against the sink until the dizziness abated.
Throwing on an old pair of sweats and one of Gary’s T-shirts, she padded barefoot into the kitchen to make some coffee. Then the realization hit. She was alone. For the first time in nearly seventeen years Diane was alone, and she had no idea what to do. She started the coffee and walked the rooms of her house as if an uninvited guest into her own life.
Starting from the front door, she couldn’t help but notice the safety screen. You know the type. The ones that let you see from the inside out, but won’t let you see from the outside in. “I wonder what kind of chaos occurred in this house before we bought it to require the necessity of this screen, and why in the fifteen years I’ve been here I never felt the desire to remove it?”
She found herself right in the middle of the living room. That is, if you could call it a living room. It was much more a war zone than a living room. This was the room where the adult who held the most power would retreat to and claim victory, for the night, or the day, or the weekend. Living was the last thing that went on in that room. She smiled as she remembered the holidays spent there.
Christmases with grandparents spending exorbitant amounts of money on gifts that would be destroyed within days. Weren’t parents supposed to be smarter than that? Couldn’t they see through the bullshit?
She slowly wound herself down the hall to the bedrooms. The first door on the right was her son’s room. Tyler had been an angel from the moment he was born. Nothing and no one could ever put out his light. Just watching his wonderment at life could crack even the hardest of shells. No one ever walked away from Tyler without a smile on their face.
When Kyle came along a year later, Tyler welcomed him with open arms, and the boys were inseparable. The room for one immediately became a room for two. Bath time became playtime. She crossed the hall to the tiny bathroom and could picture the two of them playing in the tub. Tears crept into her eyes, and she just let them fall.
She continued her journey to the next bedroom. The bed was made with a pink-ruffled spread, and there were animals waiting on the pillow. Those animals were going to have to wait for a very long time. Diane could see the tiny silhouette of her daughter drawing. “Look, Mommy, I made a pretty picture for you!” She had just smiled at her and said it was nice; she was too busy to take notice. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she went into the master bedroom and reminisced about the day they’d bought the house.
“I hate this bathroom, Gary,” she’d told him. “It’s ridiculous.”
“I know, hon, we’ll get it fixed right away,” he’d promised. That never happened.
Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she said, “Gary Montrose! I hope you’re rotting in hell!”
My reviewOK here's the thing I just finished this and I loved the story it was complex with out being confusing, it was thoughtful and a little bit scary and a lot sad. But over all a beautiful story of a women trying to live her life that seem just a lot cursed through no fault of her own. I devoured this book and was desperate to know what happened then it got to the end, and let me tell you by then you are wrung out and need a very stiff drink, but the end just stops, it feels abandoned. I read this on my kindle and I spent a few minutes trying to work out if I had skipped a page or two or of there was an editing error and the rest of it was further on, but no it just stopped. No real tie up or wind down just stopped and I have to say after such a first class story I felt very cheated, maybe it was intentional so we would feel how Diane must have felt and if so OK but I don't like it. I am not saying there should be some riding off into the sunset but after all we have been through in this book it needed a bit more hope at the end then we got!! OK rant over... For all my bluster I would say READ THIS BOOK, it is going to be BIG and you wont regret the journey it is a corker.
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*Disclosure of Material Connection: I am a member of Reading Addiction Blog Tours and a copy of this book was provided to me by the author. Although payment may have been received by Reading Addiction Blog Tours, no payment was received by me in exchange for this review. There was no obligation to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are entirely my own and may not necessarily agree with those of the author, publisher, publicist, or readers of this review. This disclosure is in accordance with the Federal Trade Commision’s 16 CFR, Part 255, Guides Concerning Use of Endorcements and Testimonials in Advertising*
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