Blog Tour Review || Excerpt || Giveaway
Mother Before Wife by Melissa Brown

February 4, 2016 Author Bio, Excerpt, Giveaway, Review 1 ★★★★★

Blog Tour Review || Excerpt || Giveaway Mother Before Wife by Melissa Brown

This book may be unsuitable for people under 17 years of age due to its use of sexual content, drug and alcohol use, and/or violence.
Blog Tour Review || Excerpt || Giveaway Mother Before Wife by Melissa BrownMother Before Wife Series: The Compound #2
Published by Self-Published on February 4th 2016
Genres: Cults, Suspense, Thriller
Pages: 214
Format: eARC
Source: Author
Buy on Amazon USBuy on Amazon UK

So many secrets. Nothing but secrets.

I started another life with a new husband, thirteen new sister wives and a new place to call home.
But the secrets weigh on me, on all of us.
And every secret leads back to the Prophet the, self-proclaimed, mouthpiece of God.
The man I’ve worshiped since childhood, the man we obey without question.
And he’s the man who will destroy us all.

I must reveal his secrets.
Prove his betrayal, his lies and his deceit.
I will not be silenced, no matter how hard he tries.

And I will never give up. Ever.

reviewReviewed by Joanne

*An E-ARC was supplied to me in exchange for review* 
Wow! Where to start?! This story is good. So good in fact that it actually distracted me from eating cake. I swear down. And that is no mean feat, I can tell you! I opened the book on my kindle, intending to read a chapter or two to get a feel for the book, (I didn’t think I had time to read it all) and that was it, I was hooked. I sat down and read, and read and read until I was done. I didn’t move from my spot for nearly three hours, and the cuppa and cake I was planing on having went out of the window! 
I have been looking forward to Aspen’s story ever since Melissa Brown announced she was writing it. Following the dramatic end of Wife Number Seven, Aspen has been reassigned to another husband within the community. She is now wife number fourteen to Paul, who is the younger brother of the Prophet. Whilst Aspen is keen to do her duty and integrate into the family with her children, she finds that the Black family is much more liberal than the Cluff household she has been used to. I had an idea of which way the story was going to go, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I’m finding it hard to write what I want to say about this book without giving away the story. This was not a typical love story. As the title suggests, it focuses on the love between a mother and her children. I could completely understand the predicament Aspen found herself in. Her children are her life, and she would do anything to protect them. I felt the mama bear instinct on her behalf, and it was only natural that her drive to protect her children banished any fear she should have had regarding her own safety. Mother before wife, ALWAYS. There is intrigue, suspense, and plenty of heart stopping moments. My heart was pounding on more than one occasion, from a mixture of fear, nervousness and anxiety. The end damn near killed me! Bravo, Melissa Brown. Bravo.
The Prophet linked his hands behind his back, tilting his head a bit as he studied me. “The cake is delicious. Did you make it?”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, but no, Sarah is the baker of the family. I do make a delicious roast chicken.”
“I should like to try it sometime.”
“I’d be honored.”
Another pause, and my heart raced. There had to be a reason for this conversation. Perhaps he would explain his actions, although the chances of that were slim. The Prophet answered to no one. Who was I to think he’d feel any obligation to explain himself to me?
Get a grip, Aspen. You’re nothing special, just a woman, like any other on this compound.
“My mother is certainly taken with you.”
“Thank you. I like her very much.”
The Prophet stared back at the bench where Jorjina was watching birds chirping from the tree above her. “Well, she always has liked Paul’s wives.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, wondering if I’d misunderstood his last statement.
“How’s your dog?” he asked, clearing his throat. When he turned his attention back toward me, his face hardened.
“Scout?” I asked, my throat dry. “He’s fine. He’s off playing with Jeremiah, I’m sure. They’re attached at the hip.” I attempted to divert the conversation in another direction, but I failed.
“Yes, your boy seems rather attached, doesn’t he?”
“They’re the best of friends.”
“You know, I was surprised to see the dog off the grounds of his home. Is he allowed to roam?”
“No, sir, he normally stays in our yard. Someone left the gate open and he just got out, I guess.”
“Ah, I see.”
“I’ve asked my sister wives to double-check that they always lock the gate, so it shouldn’t happen again.”
Please understand what I’m saying. Please don’t punish my family for what I saw . . . what I think I saw.
“I should hope so. It would be a shame if he wandered away; it seems your little boy would surely follow. You said yourself they’re attached at the hip.” He tipped his head forward and raised both eyebrows. “Am I making myself clear?”
Jeremiah? No! Don’t you touch my baby!
I swallowed hard as sweat popped out on my forehead, my neck, my hands. The Prophet was threatening me, threatening to harm my little boy. In sheer panic, I gave the only answer I could possibly offer.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He clasped his hands together. “Now, I believe I’ll have another slice of cake.”
He stared at me, waiting for me to serve him. I was nothing if not perceptive to expectations. The Prophet had threatened me, and then demanded dessert. His eyes were dull and lifeless, as if threatening to harm my child was just another part of his daily role as Prophet.
In that moment, something shifted within me. If the Prophet felt the need to threaten me, to threaten the life of my youngest child, then he was up to no good. This became quite clear.
And at that realization, I grew angry. Furious.
For weeks, I’d hoped that I was wrong, that I misunderstood. But I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if I’d misinterpreted what I’d witnessed, then there would be no need for the warning that had just taken place.
So I harnessed my bravery within, took a breath, and looked him square in the eye. “Of course, dogs do have minds of their own, don’t they?”
The Prophet’s jaw tensed and his Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed. “I suppose they do.”
“We try to control him, but he’s just an animal, after all.”
The Prophet stared at me in silence.
“I’ll get that cake for you,” I said with a nod, and went to retrieve a plate with the largest piece I could find as my heart pounded furiously in my chest.
As I walked back to join him, I felt strong, powerful. I’d called his bluff and gotten away with it.
Or had I? Panic replaced my confidence as my heart continued to thump so hard within me that I felt my lungs could deflate completely. The pressure within my chest was almost unbearable.
What on earth did I just do? Have I put my baby at risk? What kind of mother am I?
Apologize, Aspen. Repent! Make things right!
I returned to the Prophet, placed the plate in his hands, and opened my mouth to speak. Before I could utter a single syllable, he gripped the plate with one hand and my forearm with the other. He squeezed hard, painfully, and I gasped.
“Watch your step, Aspen. Your life can change in an instant.”
“Yes, sir.” I looked around the yard to see Paul watching my interaction with his brother. A concerned and confused look crossed his handsome face as he studied me.
Keep sweet. Keep sweet. Keep sweet.
“If you’ll excuse me, I should join Paul and my sister wives.”
“Of course.” The Prophet nodded, releasing my arm and turning his attention to the cake on his plate. He glanced down and smiled. “Ah, a corner piece. My favorite.”
He plunged his fork into the thick icing and placed the large bite of cake in his mouth, such a carefree action considering the tension that loomed between us just seconds before. While I required every ounce of strength within me to join my husband and appear unruffled, the Prophet had no trouble going about his business and enjoying his dessert.
A disturbing thought came to me as I walked to join Paul. Perhaps I don’t know the Prophet at all.

Other books in the series

Wife Number Seven (Book #1)
 His Only Wife (Book #1.5)

Amazon UK  Amazon US

About the Author

Melissa Brown was born and raised in the suburbs of Chicago. She attended the University of Illinois and is the mother of two fantastic kids. She’s an avid reader who enjoys making handmade gifts for her family and friends, as well as baking and painting. Melissa has an unhealthy obsession with pop culture. She speaks fluent movie quotes from the 1980s (John Hughes = genius), reads celebrity gossip magazines and never misses an episode of Scandal. She enjoys writing contemporary romance, romantic suspense and young adult novels.All of Melissa’s books are currently available exclusively through and are part of the Kindle Unlimited Program.





One Response to “Blog Tour Review || Excerpt || Giveaway
Mother Before Wife by Melissa Brown”

  1. Kristy Petree

    Thanks for the great chance! I’ve always been quite intrigued by this series.

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