CELTICLADY'S REVIEWS: Not My Mother: A Memoir by Ashley Rae for Spotlight for Sizzling PR   

19 November, 2012

Not My Mother: A Memoir by Ashley Rae for Spotlight for Sizzling PR





Not My Mother: A Memoir
Genre: Memoir/Non-Fiction
Release Date: July 13, 2012

  • ABOUT THE BOOK

By the age of twelve, Ashley Rae had survived incest, child abuse, and the deaths of both her biological parents. Born to Baptists but raised by Buddhists, Rae found peace and healing on a Pagan spiritual path while obtaining her college degree and starting the career of her dreams.

Rae thought the hardships in her life were over . . . until she lost her job, started a new relationship, and found out she was pregnant with another man's child all in the same week. Terrified of cesarean surgery, Rae vowed to give birth to her child at home - but first, she had to find one.

Alternately haunting, humorous, and heart-warming, Not My Mother: A Memoir follows Rae over a nine-month quest to break her family's generational pattern of abuse and victim hood in order to become for her unborn child the mother she had always wanted for herself.


ABOUT ASHLEY RAE

    Ashley Rae calls the Sarasota area home.  Her first book came out on Friday the 13th (July 2012) which is pretty much the coolest date she could have hoped for.  She puts on fantastically awesome weekend retreats at All World Acres in Plant City, writes meditations, blogs, articles, and books, teaches reading comprehension, creative writing, divination, and self-healing techniques, and freaking loves her life.

http://AuthorAshleyRae.com.
https://www.facebook.com/authorashleyrae



Excerpt
From the moment Dad rushed us through the dark living room, too quickly for me to see her body, I'd been looking for my mother.  Even after her funeral in Virginia, I kept looking for my mother. She came to me in my dreams and told me it had all been a mistake, and she wasn't really dead at all. I'd wake up and jump out of bed in a hurry to continue our conversation, then freeze and fold in half, hyperventilating as reality hit me.

At twenty-two, I had not yet explored how the violence that I couldn't remember witnessing affected my life and my relationships.  Ike died when I was five.  Mom hated him.  His mom loved him.  I, on the other hand, had never given myself permission to have feelings about this man who'd loved me and killed my mother. Until I saw him staring back at me through my mirror in the flickering light of a white candle.


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