A Signed Paperback Giveaway and a Never-before-seen Prologue?? HAPPY TUESDAY!

Have you read "Change of Hart" by M.E. Carter yet?  It's about a professional football player and self-proclaimed bachelor whose life completely changes when he meets a little boy that he starts to mentor and falls in love with the boy's mother.  It's a perfect read right after the Super Bowl. Although, there aren't any WWE moments in the book, so don't expect that kind of ending.

But what most people don't know is that "Change of Hart"has a never before seen prologue.  It was cut before the book was published because all the feedback said this information was more powerful when it came out later on in the book.

Well, guess what?  We've got it and have permission to show you!  

If you have read "Change of Hart", you'll enjoy seeing Addison's perspective on this topic.

If you haven't read it, it won't ruin the book.  But if it's on your TBR, you may want to wait and come back to this later.

So without further ado....the unedited Prologue to "Change of Hart"...



"I have choices, I thought to myself, staring at nothing. That’s what the therapist said.  I have choices.

I sat on the couch in our living room.  Our living room.  The living room we picked out together when we decided it was time to start a family.  It used to make me happy, being in this living room.  Nothing really makes me happy anymore.  I’m not necessarily sad.  More like numb.  Which is why I have choices.

I only have two choices though.  I either stay or I go.  That’s not really having choices.  That’s making a decision.

I could leave.  I could go back to Kansas and live with my parents.  I could get a job at my dad’s office doing whatever office people do. 

But I’m not feeling confident enough to start over.  My confidence blew out the window six months ago.  Funny thing about self-confidence. . . you can spend years building it up.  You can surround yourself with encouraging people.  You can have the greatest family alive.  But one credit card statement is all it takes to make you question all that confidence.  One statement that makes you wonder when you became not pretty enough, not smart enough, not good enough.  And it takes a hell of a lot longer than six months to try and get that confidence back. 

I was still thinking about my choices when the phone rang, interrupting my internal debate.  I didn’t recognize the number but swiped my finger across the screen to answer anyway.

“Hello?” I answered in a soft voice.

“Hi, this is Officer Chris O’Neill with the Dallas Police Department.  Am I speaking with Mrs. Bryant?”  My heart started pounding.  Why is someone from the DPD calling me?

“This is she,” I said trying not to let him hear the concern in my voice.

“Mrs. Bryant, I’m calling on behalf of your husband, Austin,” he said.  My fear should have spiked at his words.  But they didn’t.  It wasn’t about Jaxon.  And I was already too numb. 

“What about him?” I asked.

“Ma’am, there’s been an accident.  We need you to come down to the hospital.”

He rattled off more information about which hospital and who to ask for when I got there.  I thanked him while I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.

I should be running for the car, I thought to myself.  That’s what people do when their spouse is in an accident, right?

But I wasn’t running.  And I wasn’t driving fast.  I wasn’t frantic to get there.  Because I knew she would be there.  And I wasn’t about to deal with her when I was trying to make a decision.  I didn’t want her to taint my choices like she’s tainted my life.

I parked in the parking garage around the corner from the emergency entrance and walked through the sliding glass doors.  I was greeted by a young woman, she couldn’t be more than 23, wearing navy blue scrubs and squeaky sneakers.

“Officer Chris O’Neill called me.  Said my husband had been in an accident.  His name is Austin Bryant,” I told the nurse.  She was really cute.  Long blond hair full of spiral curls, pulled back into a ponytail.  Big blue eyes.  I wondered if she felt as confident as she looked.

“Give me just one minute, ma’am,” she said to me.  “Officer O’Neill is still here.  Let me get him for you.”  She took off through another set of sliding doors. 

I turned to see dozens of people milling about the waiting room.  Some were very obviously sick.  Others were comforting small children who were laying on their laps.  An ambulance siren wailed in the distance.  It was all very disconcerting.  But at least she wasn’t here.  The knots in my stomach relaxed at that realization.

“Mrs. Bryant?”

I turned my head and saw a short, stout police officer with a 1970’s mustache walking towards me.

“Mrs. Bryant, I’m Officer O’Neill.  I was one of the officers on the scene of your husband’s 

accident.”

I nodded in understanding.  “Is he going to be alright?”

“Can you come with me?” he asked, not answering my question.  He led me to small, private room around the corner and shut the door.  My heart should have been sinking.  Logically, I knew that because nothing good comes from a police officer leading you into a private room at the hospital your husband was just brought to after a major car accident.

“Mrs. Bryant,” he started gently, “your husband was in a very serious accident.  I’m sure you know the roads froze overnight?”  I nodded.

“He apparently hit a patch of black ice, followed by a couple other cars that hit the same patch right after him.”  He paused, waiting for a reaction from me.  But what could I do except listen?

He cleared his throat.  “Your husband’s car started to spin when he hit the ice and ended up facing the wrong way on the highway.  The cars behind him didn’t spin.  Just slid across the ice and hit his car.  They were all going at high rates of speed and he was facing the wrong way, so the impact was very strong.”

“Like a head on collision,” I clarified.

He nodded.  “Yes ma’am.  CPR was administered on the scene, but by the time the ambulance got there, he was already gone.  I’m sorry, Mrs. Bryant, but your husband didn’t make it.”

My husband didn’t make it.

My husband. . . Austin. . . gone.

Just like that, I no longer had choices.  I no longer had a decision to make.  Sure, other decisions were out there.  But the biggest decision of my life was made by fate.  There was a small comfort in knowing that I didn’t have to think about it anymore.  This unhappiness, this tainted situation was over.  I wanted to feel sadness.  I wanted to feel pain.  But I just felt a strange sense of relief. 

Then I remembered my reason for living, the love of my life, my Jaxon.  And my heart broke in two.  Jaxon’s father, his hero, his best friend had died and I couldn’t contain the sobs.  How would I explain this to him?

Officer O’Neill gave me a few minutes to pull myself together before leading me down the hall to do paperwork and whatever else you have to do in situations like these.  That’s when I made a decision.  The decision I should have made before.  The decision that Jaxon’s needs come first.  He is six year’s old and he’s my son. 

I’d spent too much time wallowing in self-pity.  It was time to be strong for Jax.  His hero may be gone, and we’ll be dealing with the effects of that forever, but I’m not.  And for now, no matter what it takes, no matter what the sacrifice, I will have to be enough for him.  For Jaxon."

In celebration of the Super Bowl (yeah, yeah, it's over.  But it's still Super Bowl week, right?), we're giving away a personalized, signed paperback copy of "Change of Hart"!  You just have to complete three steps.

1)  "Like" M.E. Carter on Facebook by clicking here.

2)  "Like" Author Stalker Chelle on Facebook by clicking here.

3)  Pimp this contest on your page and come back here to comment!  

Easy.  Winner will be chosen by Random.org on Friday.

Good luck everyone and Happy Reading!!