You’re invited to…

Have you ever had the opportunity to have your name on the cover of a book or get a pre-publication edition of a book? Here’s your chance!

Many folks have asked (after reading Linked Lives and my other award-winning books and short stories) when would I be writing another book. Well, I have started work on my next novel! The working title is “The Yellow House.”

Yellow House Cover

This story takes the reader back in time to mid-20th century as they follow a girl’s life, moving from farm to city, and experience her loves, losses and even the violence she encounters from those she loves the most.

Interested? Only the first 50 people who response with their name and email address will be included on the “invited only” reader list. Do it now and you may have the opportunity to read the story, chapter by chapter, as it is being written.  And, should you be willing to write a review once you’ve read the entire book, your review may wind up on the back cover!

To get you started, below is the Prelude (1st chapter) to The Yellow House by Bonny Brookes.


My eyes opened to blackness. Where was I? Reaching out I felt the stiffness of the dry hay under my hands. I rolled my head to the side, causing it to throb. Looking up, I watched faint rays of sunlight slowly appear, cascading through an opening. The top half of the stall door was swung open allowing this light to illuminate the area I found myself in, lying flat on my back. And then, I remembered.

Bolt, my beloved black horse of the past fifteen years who had a white stripe running down her side in the shape of a lighting bolt, had been frightened and kicked up her front legs. In doing so, she grazed me in the process and sent me backwards. Yet she was not in the stall now. Where was she? What had startled her?

I rolled over, reached up and grasped the ledge on the bottom half of the stall door to heave myself up, while fighting the dizziness that threatened to send me back to the ground. Once erect, I placed my hand on my forehead, in an attempt to stop the throbbing. Soon the reeling slowed and I looked around. Sunlight filtered through the barn’s open door and I could easily see Bolt was not inside.

Tentatively, I pushed open the unlatched stall door and with each step, gained strength making my way to the barn’s exit. As I got closer to the door, I heard loud, angry male voices. Suddenly, a deafening boom ripped through the air followed by complete silence.

I raced outside, yet temporarily blinded by the full sunlight, I didn’t see the large object in front of me and landed with a thud on top of something. I placed my hands underneath me to push myself up and felt a soft and familiar body. I looked down to see my beloved Bolt. Dead.

Lifting my head, I saw my father ten feet away holding a smoking rifle in his hands. Next to him stood a man I despised. On his face he wore a sinister grin.

Interested? Then please send your email address and name now and I’ll let you know if you made the top 50 list! Also, if you know of someone else who may be interested, feel free to forward this message on!


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