Wow! #ScotsWrite17 What a great adventure. Jet-lag aside, I’m still processing the entire weekend experience.
It was great to meet up with fellow author friends that I know virtually and in person – even better to meet up with others that I’ve only known online.
Back in May, hubby and I arranged to meet up with our friend, Chris Longmuir, whom we’ve known for quite some time (in person as well as virtual) and Wendy Jones, who until our arranged day trip to Aberdeen, I only knew as as a cyber-space entity. It was on this day on the train returning to our respective lodgings the plans were put in motion for us to attend the conference.
Friday night kicked off with a fantastic meal followed by keynote speaker, Joanne Harris, author of the award-winning novel Chocolat, which was turned into a movie by the same name.
Saturday morning, after a full Scottish breakfast (including haggis – yay!), we got down to it.
After a welcome from the Society of Authors in Scotland chair, Linda Strachan, historical author, Jane Johnson started the day with her talk about her life in books. It wasn’t until a break later that I realized who she was … well sort of. Turns out I have her book, The Sultan’s Wife, and I remember a thing on Facebook asking you to select the cover you liked best.
Breakouts (or as we call them workshops) began. Hubby came with me and since some of the workshops I wanted conflicted, he went in my place. Like translation and planning for the unexpected.
Prior to our lunch break, Charlie Higson gave a presentation on diversification.
After lunch, hubby and I both attended Caro Ramsay‘s ergonomic workspace breakout (I love her sense of humour) followed by one I really, REALLY, REALLY wanted to attend… Joanna Penn‘s Book Marketing Masterclass. I came away from this one with loads of ideas for marketing my books, including reviving my podcasts. Biggest decision there, do I put the podcasts on the website or my blog?
A debate on what to expect from one another from the perspective of a novelist, agent and editor provided some interesting points that quite possibly many of us never thought of.
A gin tasting and drinks reception followed in the lead up to the dinner and ceilidh.
And for those doubting Thomases who claim I never wear a skirt (always trousers), here’s proof that I do.
Complete with my red leather jacket and matching shoes that I wore at my book launch in Kansas.
Saturday night’s meal
Since coming to this conference all came about as a result of an earlier trip to Scotland and spending the day with Chris and Wendy, I thought I would post a picture of us from then.
Here we are on our wander around Footdee village in our casual attire, suitable for such a day. I mean you can’t wear your glad rags when you’re looking for body dump locations. You need to be comfortable in case you have to high-tail it out of the place, lest you’re really pegged as a murderer *egads*.
Chris, Melanie and Wendy – aka the three muskateers
And wanting to recreate our “three muskateers” photo from earlier in the year, we had another one taken between the meal and the ceilidh on the Saturday night.
and the three of us again in our glad rags
Not quite from the same angle, but the three of us scrub up well, don’t you think?
The Martainn Skene Highland Dance Band
Our ceilidh band. First dance of the night was the ‘Gay Gordon’s’.
Don and Wendy dancing the Gay Gordons
Before the night was over, we danced The Dashing White Sergeant, Strip the Willow, Virginia Reel, and more…
The very last dance (and we stayed right to the end), was a waltz.
The only two couples on the dance floor
On the Sunday morning, Joanna Penn talked about how to make a living from your writing. I wish I had a fraction of her energy. Wow!
We attended the two breakouts on Scrivener software for writers. I can see me getting this in the not-so-distant future.
All too soon, the weekend conference came to an end and we found ourselves on the train back to Paisley Gilmour Street station and the bus to the airport, and our room at the Holiday Inn.
The original plan was to only take one of our large suitcases. We brought both because we needed casual and dress clothes and knew we would be bringing stuff back with us. Good thing we did because when all was said and done, we had 44 pounds in each bag.
I’m looking forward to putting the things I learned at the conference into practice and can’t wait until the next one comes around.
Brings a whole new meaning to killing with kindness.
Meet Rachel. She loves animals and works at a dating agency bringing lonely people together – only somebody is watching her every move and she’s scared…
Neil didn’t see who killed him – but his murder brings DI Claire Falle on the case. What she uncovers leads her to discover that a serial killer is preying on the clients of the dating agency where Rachel works.
Can Claire work out the connection between all the deaths before Rachel becomes the next victim?
And what is it in Rachel’s past that haunts her?
As DI Claire Falle investigates the lives of the dating agency staff and clients, she is pulled into a tangled web of loneliness and deceit which will have devastating consequences for someone.
5 REASONS WHY SOCIAL MEDIA IS IMPORTANT FOR TODAY’S AUTHORS BY GWYN GB
Authors have an amazing opportunity these days with social media. They can directly reach readers and connect with fellow authors and industry professionals like they’ve never been able to before. Some say the opportunities are helping make this a golden age for authors who now no longer are hidden behind the pages of their books, their agents and the publishing houses, but can communicate directly with their readers on a scale that would never have been contemplated twenty years ago.
1. The first stage of social media help comes when you’re researching your book. There are so many amazingly interesting Twitter accounts and Facebook groups out there and you’re almost certain to find one which will provide you with information and expert advice. For example, if you’re writing crime you’ll find lots of ex police and forensics people on Twitter. Some are now writers themselves, others are often happy to help writers. There is of course always the caveat that you need to check the information you are reading, and the background of the supplier, particularly in Facebook groups and the like, because unfortunately there are also lots of people who consider themselves experts or who in good faith repeat what they think are facts and aren’t.
2. While you’re researching and writing your book it can be a lonely process so this is where the ‘social’ in social media really comes into its own. The author community is generally incredibly supportive, so start connecting with fellow authors who can understand your journey and help point you towards resources and information that can help you. Find authors in your genre and then look at who they’re following – that’s the easiest way to find a good list of people. You’ll also find it rewarding supporting others and could make some great new friends.
3. Marketing and Advertising. Once your book is written, the hard work begins in marketing it. Social media makes that a little easier because it can allow you to broadcast to the world. If you’ve built up your community as you’ve been writing your book then you’ll have a ready group of those interested in knowing it’s now published. If you’re indie published then you might also need to do your own advertising. Gone are the days when you spent thousands on a print ad that would be seen by lots of people, but only a small percentage of that readership were your target audience. Now you can advertise on Facebook and target your ads to the exact type of person you know will be interested – and for a fraction of the cost.
4. Reviewers and bloggers. While you’re writing your book it’s worth keeping an eye on book blogs and building relationships with bloggers. Again, social media is great for this. A quick Twitter or Instagram search will soon come up with plenty of book bloggers for you to connect with. Facebook groups for both readers and reviewers are also excellent ways to make contacts.
5. Of course, the most important role of social media is to connect with your readers. I have absolutely loved receiving feedback from my readers for both of my books, ‘Islands’ and ‘Lonely Hearts’. It makes all the hard work worthwhile. Whether that’s through your own Facebook page, Twitter, Instagram or any of the other social media (depending on who your audience is determines what social channels they use). This means not just ‘broadcasting’ to your readers and trying to sell books, but having conversations with them and making things personal not commercial. Never before have authors been able to talk directly to their readers on a global scale and 24/7. Building relationships also builds loyalty and that is critical in a world where your book is just one of millions hoping to be noticed.
Finally, there are downsides to social media. Keyboard warriors can raise their ugly heads and attack as well as support. Don’t let their small-mindedness put you off. Also it can be a tremendous distraction and crutch to those who procrastinate rather than get on with writing. View social media as one of the tools to use in your writing and marketing arsenal and you won’t be disappointed.
ABOUT GWYN GB
Gwyn GB is a writer living in Jersey, Channel Islands. A native of the UK she moved to the island with her Jersey-born husband, geriatric dog, two boys and goldfish.
Gwyn is a former national and international newsreader for BBC TV and ITN in London and Jersey. She’s also freelanced for national newspapers and magazines in the UK, once had her own magazine publishing business and has a PR diploma. She is currently working in the digital industry while writing in her spare time.
Inspiration – A heart can be broken in many ways don’t let it be from not reaching out to the people you call friends with a helping hand. (Enjoy the #bookhugs exchange)
Blurb for Summer’s Growth.
In the spirit-haunted Winston estate in Ohio, rooted in time and occupied by the lingering ghosts of a great family, the torch is about to pass…
Mattie Winston, sober, sensible, and steady, has served as Keeper to the family for decades. Amber Harrison, hovering on the edge of flunking out of college, unsure what she wants out of life, has barely even heard of the Winston estate. The family, however, has decided that it’s time for the changing of the guard. These two exceptional women soon find themselves dealing with violence, murder attempts, and old family mysteries while each finding the love of her life. Two romances and a growing friendship, all twined around a brooding family tragedy, make for an outstanding paranormal mystery offering depth and charm beyond the commonplace. The growing love of Amber and Carter and of Mattie and Quincy offer readers a tender and engaging first novel in a winning new paranormal series.
Excerpt
“Yes, I spoke to your father. My name is Mattie Winston. I’m the present keeper of the Winston Estate. It’s my job to show you how to be the new keeper.”
The term puzzled Amber. “Keeper? Keeper of what?”
“Why of the estate!” The woman appeared shocked by the question.
“Keeper of the estate? What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry.” Mattie repositioned herself on the couch and patted nervously at her hair for stray strands. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. You’ve traveled a long way and must be tired and hungry.” She pointed to a platter of little triangle sandwiches on the coffee table. “Please help yourself.”
She leaned forward and picked up a glass.
Amber’s stomach growled. Other than a donut on the way out of her apartment, she’d not eaten much over the course of the day.
With a small sandwich in her hand, Amber considered Mattie’s comment and pressed the issue. “What exactly is a keeper? I thought I was supposed to inherit the estate.”
“Yes, well, the keeper is also the person who takes care of the trust fund, which includes the estate.” The lady’s hands didn’t settle. They fluttered in her lap without finding a resting place.
Her apparent anxiety confused Amber. She couldn’t figure out a reason for her nervousness. But sympathy for the lady enticed Amber into changing the subject. “How long have you lived here?”
“I’ve lived in Ohio all my life. But I’ve lived in Winston Manor for about thirty years.” Mattie’s mouth broke into a small, almost shy smile.
Strange after thirty years, why switch the family keeper, or caretaker or whatever they called them? The lady didn’t look old.
Why leave? Did her family want to move? “Does anyone else live here?”
Mattie paused for a long moment. “Well, there are a few others around.”
“Are you married?”
The woman shook her head.
“Is that part of the keeper’s job—not to be married?”
Tina Gayle grew up a dreamer and loved to escape into the world of books. After a number of different jobs, she decided to try her hand at writing. Her romantic novels touch the heart and explore the heartaches of falling in love and being a woman.
Married thirty years, she and her husband love to travel and play golf. If you’d like to read the 1st chapter of her books visit her website.
People have mixed feelings about autumn – that “back to school” anxiety can last well into adulthood – but it’s my favorite time of year in New Mexico. The temperatures are finally dropping, and the smell of roasting green chile fills the air. (Stop by my blog for information on the New Mexico chile and some Southwestern recipes.) It’s the perfect time to curl up with a good book. Of course, ANY time is the right time for a good book! I hope you’re staying safe, warm, and dry, with plenty of good books to read. ~ Kris
Counterfeits
by
Kris Bock
Jenny returns to her grandparents’ art camp in a remote New Mexico town after her grandmother’s sudden death. That night she wakes to the noise of intruders. What do the strangers want? As more bizarre events unfold, Jenny realizes the people she thought she knew are not what they seem – least of all Rob, an old friend whose past may be coming back to haunt them all.
Counterfeits is romantic suspense in the Southwest that will interest fans of Mary Stewart, Lillian Stewart Carl, and Barbara Michaels.
“Counterfeits is the kind of romantic suspense novel I have enjoyed since I first read Mary Stewart’s Moonspinners…. 5 Stars” – Roberta at Sensuous Reviews blog
Chapter 1
Jenny’s rolling suitcase bumped up the porch steps. Once, twice, three times, like a knock that would never be answered. Tears stung her eyes in the cold night air. How many times had she rushed to this door with a sense of coming home? Growing up, she had spent every summer at her grandparents’ art camp. She hadn’t been back as often in the last ten years, but it still felt more like home than any place else in the world.
She took a shuddering breath and turned away to gaze up at the dark sky. Stars splashed across the moonless night, so many stars she could hardly pick out the constellations. The band of the Milky Way sparkled like a streak of glitter paint on velvet paper. She had gazed up at that sky a million times, and yet it filled her with awe. After a decade living among the lights of New York City, it was easy to forget that nature had her own Great White Way.
She shivered. During her summers in the northwestern New Mexico mountains, nights had typically been mild, even at over 6000 feet elevation. Now the temperature had to be dropping toward freezing. Maybe that was why the vast, chilled sky seemed so distant and lonely.
Jenny leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. She was so tired. Maybe she’d take a few extra days and rest. But she couldn’t bring herself to enter her grandparents’ house and go to bed, knowing she’d be alone. When her grandfather had died two years before, her heart had broken. Now her grandmother was gone as well.
Jenny tried not to imagine her grandmother’s last moments, when the car she was driving had skidded off the twisty mountain road two days before. She tried to blank out all thoughts, all grief. She took a ragged breath, the frigid air searing her lungs, and released it slowly, hoping to empty her mind as well.
Her thoughts refused to quiet, while her heart ached with emptiness, a dark hole as vast and cold as the night sky.
***
Jenny rose from sleep slowly, her body resisting. She could see nothing in the pitch black. Where was she? She blinked, trying to make sure her eyes were really open.
Memories broke through the fog. The phone call, the rush across country, the late arrival. Crawling into bed in her grandparents’ upstairs guest room. She groaned and pulled up the blanket. Morning must be hours away, given the darkness.
The old house creaked, but no sounds drifted in from outside. Maybe that’s what woke her; she was used to the murmur of city sounds all night long. Who’d have thought that would become normal?
Her head pounded. Probably dehydration from the high elevation and dry air. She should get up, drink a glass of water, take a couple of aspirin. Her head would thank her in the morning. If only she could make herself move.
The house creaked again, followed by a rhythmic sound – like footsteps. Jenny jerked upright, her ears straining. Had she heard a voice?
She shook her head. She must still be half asleep, dreaming. Imagining her grandparents were still here. Wishful thinking.
Downstairs, a door closed. Jenny clutched the blanket. Imagination be damned. She was not alone.
Kris Bock writes novels of suspense and romance with outdoor adventures and Southwestern landscapes. The Mad Monk’s Treasure follows the hunt for a long-lost treasure in the New Mexico desert. In The Dead Man’s Treasure, estranged relatives compete to reach a buried treasure by following a series of complex clues. In The Skeleton Canyon Treasure, sparks fly when reader favorites Camie and Tiger help a mysterious man track down his missing uncle. Whispers in the Dark features archaeology and intrigue among ancient Southwest ruins. What We Found is a mystery with strong romantic elements about a young woman who finds a murder victim in the woods.
Wipe off your flip flops, it’s going to be a bumpy ride…
When Sacha Collins, cafe owner and sundae-maker extraordinaire, meets Italian archaeologist, Alessandro Salvatore in Rome, she’s grateful to him for being her tour guide. Now he’s turned up in the seaside village where she lives, known locally as, The Boardwalk by the Sea and is setting up a gelateria in direct competition to her retro Summer Sundaes Café.
She’s only been running her café for two years since taking over from her father. Until now the only other shops on the boardwalk have been a wool shop, an antique shop and a second-hand book shop. These have helped rather than hindered her custom. How will her creative sundaes made from fresh Jersey ice cream compete with his delicious Italian gelato?
Sacha is worried. Is there enough custom for both businesses to thrive? Who is behind the strange changes being made on the boardwalk? And when the oldest resident on the boardwalk is threatened with eviction can Sacha and Alessandro come together and find a way of helping her?
For a peaceful little boardwalk overlooking one of the quieter beaches on the island, there’s an awful lot going on and some of it is going to lead to big changes.
Georgina Troy is the pseudonym of author Deborah Carr. Her first book, A Jersey Kiss was a finalist in the Contemporary Romance Category of the Romantic Novel of the Year Awards 2016 (RoNAs) and finalist in the Joan Hessayon Award for New Writers 2015.
Her WW1 historical romance, Broken Faces, written in her own name, Deborah Carr, was runner-up in the Good Housekeeping Novel Writing Competition 2012. She lives on the island of Jersey with her husband, two children and three rescue dogs. Her books are published by Accent Press and Green Shutter Books. Georgina is a member of The Blonde Plotters.
Georgina’s new series, The Boardwalk by the Sea, includes four standalone novels about friends, Sacha, Bella, Lexi and Jools. Each book is set in a different season. The girls live on or near a small seaside village known locally as The Boardwalk by the Sea and all of them make an appearance in the books throughout the series but each book will focus on one of the friends.
Abstract background textured in blue violet and black tones with scratches and stains.
On Sale for .99¢ – September 15th – September 30th
Unexpected (A Unexpected Novel Book One)
Valerie Ullmer
Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance
Blurb
A chance meeting will change their lives forever…
From the moment he entered the dark taproom, Caleb Hunt found himself drawn to the handsome man who sat alone at the end of the bar, away from the crowd. His interest in the dark-haired, muscled adonis took him by surprise, not remembering when he’d felt such hunger from a simple glimpse. Unable to stay away, he quickly found an open seat next to him and slid into it. When Ronan turned his ice-blue eyes to Caleb and introduced himself, his warm hand sent shivers of desire through his body and he was enthralled.
Ronan Scott’s boring Friday night had taken a turn for the better when Caleb took the seat next to him. Over the next few hours, he found Caleb easy to talk to and at the same time, he found that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the beautiful man. Caleb captured his attention in a way that no other had for as long as he could remember. Taking a chance, he leaned forward and captured Caleb’s lips with his. And with the simple kiss, Ronan understood that Caleb would become an essential part of his life.
As Ronan and Caleb explore their new relationship and integrate their lives together, they realize that not everything will be so seamless…
That’s when he spotted him and everything stopped.
His breathing hitched in his chest and his heart thudded once, hard, and even the music seemed to fade as his gaze landed on a dark-haired man who sat by himself at the bar. As Caleb’s eyes slid down the man’s body of their own accord, he noted the fitted black tee that emphasized the muscles of his arms, back, and shoulders, before his gaze dropped lower to his legs encased in denim.
When he lifted a beer to his mouth and swallowed, Caleb felt his own throat tighten. A shiver of desire passed over him. Never had he felt this way about a man or woman in his life.
Before he could analyze his actions or talk himself out of his stupid plan, he walked toward the man. Part of him wanted to see if the man was as stunning as he believed from across the bar or if he’d been alone for so long that his mind had conjured the perfect man.
Before Caleb could reach the stool next to him, a beautiful blonde glided up to him, running her hand down his chest. Her smile flirty and sensual. Although Caleb had never been propositioned in any way close to resembling what he witnessed, he knew that she offered the man a brazen invitation to get to know her better.
Disappointment flooded Caleb’s chest.
In the next moment, however, she frowned and backed away from him as quickly as she arrived, leaving an empty chair.
Not questioning his good luck, Caleb hurried over and shed his coat, dropping it over the back. He flagged down the bartender and indicated the beer he wanted.
He sensed the man’s eyes on him, but for the moment, he wasn’t brave enough to turn and catch his gaze. Not when his breath had stuck in his throat, and he didn’t know if he could speak without sounding choked.
As soon as the bartender handed him his mug, the man turned his body toward him and leaned over to speak, close to his ear.
“Are you here alone?”
Caleb had to bite the inside of his lip in order not to moan out loud at the sexy, deep voice. Remembering the question, he shook his head and pointed toward Dylan and Garrett across the room. Dylan, of course, had a woman on his lap and was tracing a finger down her neck, before he leaned toward her and his mouth followed the same trail.
Garrett was looking down at his phone. The shy woman he’d been talking to had disappeared, much to Caleb’s disappointment, and another was trying, unsuccessfully, to get his attention. She looked drunk and very loud by the way he flinched every time she spoke.
“Dylan, the one on the right with a woman on his lap, is the biggest flirt in the world. He’s never serious about any woman he takes home. Garrett is his best friend, the complete opposite of Dylan, but he’s loyal.”
The man laughed and Caleb couldn’t help the lift of his lips at the sound. It was deep, rich, and addictive. But when the man turned his ice-blue eyes on him, something unidentifiable swelled in his chest. He could sense that he should speak, to keep this gorgeous man talking for as long as possible. “Are you here alone?”
Smart, Caleb. Just parrot the same question back.
The man smiled before he nodded over to his group of friends. Some were flirting, but others were enjoying the company of their friends on a Friday night.
“The ginger is Hawk; he’s a divorce lawyer who is handling Ryan’s divorce. That’s why they’re hunched over their beers. Ryan’s wife apparently hadn’t been faithful during their entire four-year marriage, and he found out when he came home early from a business trip. Jack is the one who is flirting with the group of women; he’s like Dylan in that way, never serious. He’s a CEO of a tech company and he could have any woman with his looks and the power he exudes, but he’s never been in a serious relationship. Sam is my second-in-command, the one who looks faintly sick, because Adam is a forensic scientist who loves talking about his work.”
Caleb found himself smiling at the group of friends. When he glanced at the man, who had turned back to Caleb after pointing out his friends, he snagged Caleb’s gaze. “So, do you have a girlfriend at home?”
“No. I can’t remember the last time I had a date, much less a successful one. You?”
Caleb breathed a sigh of relief when he shook his head.
“I’m Ronan Scott.” He held his hand out.
Even the man’s name is sexy.
He had to clear his throat before he reached out and grasped Ronan’s large, warm hand in his. “Caleb Hunt.”
Something inside Caleb warmed in increments until fireworks exploded behind his skin, all from a simple touch.
About Valerie
Valerie writes paranormal and contemporary romances with strong alpha males and brilliant, beautiful heroines. She lives in Denver, Colorado with her wonderfully supportive husband and their funny and wise black lab. She’s addicted to coffee, crime shows, and reading and writing character driven romances.
Philadelphia police officer Kylee Parker is dedicated to protecting and serving. She sees the work in absolutes: right and wrong, black and white, good guys and bad guys. That is, until she chases a drug dealer into a dead-end alley and finds the bad boy she had a painful crush on throughout her teen years has turned into a more dangerous and more attractive man.
Jayson Donovan knows he doesn’t deserve someone as good as Kylee Parker. As the right hand man to a local drug-pushing mobster, he’s solidly on the wrong side of Kylee’s moral compass. But he can’t help reaching for her time and again when he knows he shouldn’t.
Enjoy the following excerpt fromA Love Restrained:
Spring in the city brought people out of winter hibernation like a siren song, but as the temperature rose, so in turn, did the crime rate. Cops had to be sharp as they walked the streets of Philadelphia. In her ten years on the force, on these streets, she’d seen a lot of crazy and often stupid criminals do a lot of crazy and often stupid things. But to be so brazen, or so plain dumb, as to do a hand-to-hand drug buy right in front of two uniformed officers rode high on her list of top ten.
“Tell me you saw that?”
“Saw what?” Hunks of half chewed soft pretzel fell from Sherman’s mouth.
Pete Sherman’s not a bad cop, just not an observant one whose paunch portrayed his love of all things fried and his reupholstered recliner. He hadn’t seen a thing in the last six months. But he took direction well, despite the fact he had seniority.
“There, across the street.” She pointed. “The junkie walking east just scored off the guy in the leather bomber heading west. I swear the dealer looked right at us before the exchange. Call it in, Pete, and grab the junkie. I’m going after the dealer.”
Sherman didn’t argue. She took off into a quick lope, kept her footsteps light so as to not alert the man she pursued. The spring day had drawn people out and the complaints of the pedestrians she weaved through grew loud. The guy glanced over his shoulder, and the edge of his mouth tipped into a grin before he sprinted around the corner.
“Cocky jerk.” She turned the corner, and shouted, “Stop! Police.”
She ran clean and fast, closing the distance between them with little effort. The dealer ducked into an alley she knew to be a dead end. She slowed and put one hand on the butt of her service pistol as she approached. He had his back to her, his hands on his hips as he stared at the brick wall in front of him.
“Philly PD, you’re under arrest. Slowly put your hands above your head and against the wall to your left.” She closed the few feet between them, using her free hand to release the handcuffs from her belt, the other remaining on her weapon. She cuffed him, with practiced efficiency, and then read him his rights before leading him out of the alley, preferring to do the pat down with her partner present.
“Kylee Parker, I’ll admit I daydreamed a time or two about you cuffing me, but it was never in this context.”
For more information, including cover art, trailer and buy links, see:
Home is where the heart is and Becky makes hers with her very own knight in slightly tarnished armor, their three daughters, son-in-law, two grandsons, and their psychotic cat Jaxon. When she’s not busy living her own happily ever after, she’s writing about someone else’s.
Jim Henson once said, “My hope is to leave the world a bit better than when I got here.” I live my life by that same ideal; it’s posted in my office, on my media stand in fact, so that I never forget to be kind, thoughtful and considerate in every interaction. May your every dream be a reality and every day a poem.
Lizzie Donavue went from being the sister of his best friend to the girl Nick Templeton most wants to kiss. On her birthday, he finally summons up the courage to make his move. But it looks like Nick’s missed his chance when he discovers that Lizzie has been offered a modelling contract, which will take her away to the glamorous fashion scenes of New York and Los Angeles.
Nick is forced to watch from the sidelines as the gawky teenager he knew is transformed into Elizabeth Donavue: top model and ultimate English rose pin-up, forever caught in a whirlwind of celebrity parties with the next up-and-coming Hollywood bad boy by her side.
But then Lizzie’s star-studded life comes crashing down around her, and a guy like Nick could be just what she needs. Will she take a chance on him? Or is he just too damn nice?
A former pharmacist, I’m now a medical writer who also writes romance. Some days a racing heart is a medical condition, others it’s the reaction to a hunky hero.
With two teenage boys and a husband who asks every Valentine’s Day whether he has to buy a card (yes, he does), any romance is all in my head. Then again, his unstinting support of my career change proves love isn’t always about hearts and flowers – and heroes come in many disguises.
Kate Lawrence can sense the shadow of violent death, past and present. In her struggle to cope with her unwelcome gift, she has frozen people out of her life. Her marriage is on the rocks, her career is in chaos and she urgently needs to get a grip.
So she decides to start again, by joining her effervescent cousin Sylvia and partner Michael in their mission to restore and revitalise Llys y Garn, an old mansion in the wilds of North Pembrokeshire.
It is certainly a new start, as she takes on Sylvia’s grandiose schemes, but it brings Kate to a place that is thick with the shadows of past deaths. The house and grounds are full of mysteries that only she can sense, but she is determined to face them down – so determined that she fails to notice that ancient energies are not the only shadows threatening the seemingly idyllic world of Llys y Garn.
The happy equilibrium is disrupted by the arrival of Sylvia’s sadistic and manipulative son, Christian – but just how dangerous is he?
Then, once more, Kate senses that a violent death has occurred…
Set in the majestic and magical Welsh countryside, Shadows is a haunting exploration of the dark side of people and landscape.
EXTRACT
‘Is it haunted, Kate?’ Sylvia clapped her hands, like a child wanting ice-cream. ‘Oh please, please say there’s a ghost down here.’
‘There’s a ghost down here.’
‘No seriously, please tell me. You’d sense one, I know.’
What the hell. I closed my eyes solemnly. ‘I detect – a definite shiver of fear.’
‘Is that all? I was hoping for a white lady. If only we had battlements. I’m sure we’d have had a white lady, walking in the moonlight.’
‘Perhaps we can persuade one to move in.’
‘Yes!’ Sylvia gripped my arm. ‘A ghost hotel! We could get a licence to serve spirits!’
We were still laughing as we climbed back to the buttery. To finish, she led me on into the second small room, under the upper chamber.
As before, a low square room. One tiny window, two doors, stained walls, stone floor, just another empty room. ‘Not sure what to call this one,’ babbled my cousin. ‘Think of a good name. The armoury! I wonder if we could get a suit of armour.’ She was already opening the far door, into a panelled arch through deep masonry back into the Great Hall.
Just a doorway to Sylvia.
But not to me. Oh God, not to me.
‘Come on,’ she sang. ‘Where next?’
I watched her pass through, amazed that she could sense nothing. Rigid in my determination to conquer, I followed her, trying to block out the shadow, to refuse it entry into my brain.
I couldn’t. It overwhelmed my defences, enveloping me in a black cloud. Huge atavistic fear, searing thirst, gut-wrenching despair. I could feel the interweaving strands of emotion like filaments of rot, tightening around me, meshing in my lungs, my veins, my bones. How could Sylvia possibly not feel this?
Thorne was born in Luton and graduated from Aberystwyth University (history) and from the Open University (Law). She set up a restaurant with her sister but now spends her time writing and making miniature furniture for collectors. She lives in Pembrokeshire, which forms a background for much of her writing, as does Luton. She writes psychological mysteries, or “domestic noir,” and her first novel, A Time For Silence, was published by Honno in 2012. Her second Motherlove, was published in 2015 and her third, The Unravelling, came out in 2016. A collection of short stories, Moments of Consequence, came out the same year. She’s a member of the Crime Writers Association.
Series: A DI Matthew Adams Thriller – Book #3 (can be read as a standalone)
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Release Date: September 6 2017
Publisher: Death by Choc Lit
18+ (some violence and language)
What if you and your family were at the mercy of a psychopath/a man with no conscience?
Just when DI Matthew Adams thinks he’s left the past behind him, it comes back to haunt him once again; this time in the form of the Conner family.
Like Matthew, the Conners have lost a child in tragic circumstances – and they’ve also found themselves in the hands of one of the most depraved criminals to walk the streets: ‘Dead-eyed’ Charlie Roberts, a drug addicted low-life with a penchant for extreme violence.
Matthew’s greatest affinity lies with Daniel Conner, the brooding father who still blames himself for his youngest child’s death. But when Daniel’s wife and daughter are tortured and tormented by Roberts, can Matthew prevent him from completely ruining his own life for an act of revenge particularly when, once upon a time, that’s exactly what Matthew would have done too?
Thank you so much for inviting me to share a little about DEADLY INTENT – Book 3 in the DI Matthew Adams thrillers – and to talk a little bit about what might inspire an author to crime/thriller writing.
A writer’s mind thrives on exploration. Every scenario, every face, every place tells a story. A glimpsed situation, an argument between a couple or ‘slanging match’ in the street, for instance, and you have your stimulus for a book. Personally, whatever genre I write in I tend to gravitate towards family and family dynamics and just how strong a family unit can be, particularly when that unit might be under threat in some way. Most would agree that a story needs to have a protagonist and an antagonist to feed off each other. I see people as not all good or all bad, more opposite sides of the same spectrum with some crossover in between. Having become rather jaded in his view of his nemesis in After She’s Gone and Sins of the Father, DI Matthew Adams is less forgiving. To quote his thoughts in the third in the series, Deadly Intent: “He’d long ago stopped wondering how perverted individuals like Sullivan came into existence. As far as Matthew could see it wasn’t nature or nurture. It was a lethal cocktail of genes, brain function and childhood experience that created monsters like Patrick Sullivan, like Charlie Roberts. He was of the same ilk. Despite any and all excuses pointing to his upbringing making him the way he was, Roberts was pure evil. Matthew could feel it”.
Nature versus Nurture is an age-old question, not one I can hope to answer, but I can’t resist exploring, peeling away the veneer, so to speak, to see what lies beneath. Charlie Roberts, whose Deadly Intent is revealed as the story progresses, it seems really is evil to the core. To quote one reviewer’s summary of him, he’s “the Devil himself”. You’d have to read the book to draw your own conclusion, of course (no sales pitch intended!). Meanwhile, I’ll leave you with an excerpt, which might give you cause to ponder, is Matthew Adams right in his summation of Roberts?
Before I go, though, can I take this opportunity to thank all bloggers and readers for their absolutely fantastic support? It really is tremendously appreciated. Reviews mean the world to an author and, together with posts and extracts, will help a book find its wings. THANK YOU!
DEADLY INTENT – Excerpt
‘How you doin’, Danny boy? Nice trip you havin’? Hey?’
Didn’t look as if he was having a very nice trip, actually. Shaking fit to bust something loose, the bloke was. Shame that. Charlie reckoned Danny could have used a bit of mellowing out, being so stressed, and all.
He didn’t demand an answer this time. Fairly, Charlie thought.
Daniel was hardly capable of giving one, after all.
‘Too hot, are we, sunshine?’ He ran a hand across Daniel’s forehead, trailed it slowly down his cheek, unfastened a button of his shirt, and the next, and then stopped to have a little look at the wife’s face.
Oh man, what a picture. Her cat’s eyes were about to pop right out of her head. Shocked she was, and he’d barely touched him.
‘Let’s see if we can’t cool you off a bit, hey, Daniel?’ He smirked at Jo, and then proceeded slowly through the rest of the buttons, laughing as Daniel tried to lift his head from the floor.
‘Come on, Daniel, don’t fight it.’ Charlie yanked the shirt open and ran the gun over his chest. ‘You know you want it.’
He laughed again as Daniel made a supreme effort to raise himself, and failed miserably. Charlie had been wrong. The bloke obviously wasn’t a user. Couldn’t handle it at all, poor sod, which really was a shame. Danny boy putting up a bit of a struggle might’ve been more interesting.
Still, the look in his eyes was enough. Wasn’t looking right through him any more. Oh, no. He could see him all right. See exactly what he was doing.
He trailed the gun slowly over the flat of Daniel’s stomach.
Deliberately slowly, he followed the gun with his hand to let it rest lightly on his waistband.
‘Would you like your pretty little wife to watch, Danny boy?’ He grinned as Daniel’s eyes flickered open, swam hazily, and closed. ‘Or shall we ask her to leave, hey?’
‘Stop!’ Jo screamed, jumping up on her feet.
‘Sit!’ Charlie spat, whirling around.
‘Please.’ Jo took a hesitant step forwards. ‘He’s done everything you’ve asked. Please, leave him alone now.’
‘Pack it up!’ Shawn said from the doorway. ‘Lay off, Charlie. I mean it.’
Blimey, thought Charlie, what’s this? A conspiracy? He noticed the tight set of Shawn’s jaw, and decided telling him to button it might not be prudent.
‘What?’ Charlie blinked in surprised innocence and held his hands in the air. ‘I haven’t touched him.’
‘Well, don’t.’ Shawn fixed him with a furious glare. ‘I’m warning you, Charlie. I’m out of here if you do.’
‘One more minute, and that’s it, I swear.’ Charlie did his best to look like a boy scout. ‘Just let me get him out of the shirt. Nothing else, honest.’ Dib bloody dib, he thought.
He leaned back over Daniel, making sure to hold his gaze.
Daniel watched from a faraway place, the psycho drifting in and out of his vision, undoing his shirt? The gun, not slamming down so hard he heard his bones crack this time.
Trailing instead.
Slow cold metal, caressing his skin, sliding over his stomach. Christ, he was going to throw up.
Instinctively, he heaved himself from the floor, swallowing back the nausea, trying to still the merry-go-round room. The troglodyte was behind the psycho now, mouthing something. And Jo? She’d come to the fair, too.
Daniel squinted. She didn’t like the music though. She’d clamped her hands over her mouth. Kayla was there, somewhere. Daniel could feel her. But where was … Oh, shit, no. He struggled to sitting, reached a hand to the wall and tried to stand up, but the floor tipped and tilted beneath him.
‘Can’t,’ he mumbled, and staggered, and the troglodyte caught him.
This wasn’t right. This was all wrong. This wasn’t the fair. It was a freak show, and there were too many people. And someone was missing.
‘Where’s Emma?’ he shouted, shaking his head to try to clear the fog from his mind. ‘Where is she?’ Sheer panic swept through him, fast on its heels, absolute terror. He clutched two fistfuls of the troglodyte’s shirt, bunching it at his neck.
‘Where?’ Daniel screamed, his throat tight, his head pounding.
His heart bursting.
The floor undulating.
His body shaking. Why couldn’t he stop?
Couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop shaking.
‘Please!’ Jo begged, as Daniel slid to the floor. ‘No more!’
‘Shut it!’ Charlie snapped. ‘You’re doin’ my head in!’
‘I hope you’re satisfied?’ Shawn glared at Charlie as he eased one of Daniel’s arms over his shoulder to half-carry him towards a berth.
‘Come, on, you’re all right, mate,’ he tried to reassure him, unhooking Daniel’s arm from his neck. ‘Just try to lie back. It’ll pass.’
But Daniel wouldn’t lie back. Couldn’t seem to stay still. He was twitching and gasping, his chest rattling.
Shawn held Daniel by both shoulders and studied his face. ‘He ain’t breathing right,’ he said, drawing in a terse breath of his own and turning to look Charlie over with open contempt. ‘You finished now?’
‘Serves him right.’ Charlie paced agitatedly to the door. Then back again.
He stopped. Lit up a spliff, drew back hard, and paced some more.
Sympathy for Daniel was sympathy wasted, as far as Charlie was concerned. And what’s more, it was dangerous, Shawn letting sentiment get in the way of what they were doing here. Currently, and crucially, making sure the stubborn sod did exactly as he was told, without question.
‘Not quite,’ he answered finally, crushing out his joint and striding angrily to the berth. ‘Shift,’ he said, catching hold of Shawn’s shoulder to shove the pathetic, mother-clucking hen away from Daniel. Be tucking him up under the quilt in a minute.
He stilled Shawn with a warning glance as the arrogant numbskull actually dared to look as if he was about to interfere, then caught hold of Daniel’s shirt collar and hauled him towards him.
‘This …’ Charlie snarled, his face close to Daniel’s. ‘ … comes off, Danny boy.’ He yanked the shirt over his shoulders and down over his biceps.
‘You bloody lunatic,’ Shawn muttered, his tone utter disgust. ‘The bloke’s covered in bruises. No need. Not for any of it.’ He took a step towards Charlie, but stopped as Daniel laughed. Then laughed again – out loud; and right in Charlie’s face.
‘Freak.’ Daniel smirked, unfocussed eyes swimming around in his head. ‘Pathetic little freak.’
Heartache, humour, love, loss & betrayal, Sheryl Browne brings you edgy, sexy, heart-wrenching fiction. A member of the Crime Writers’ Association, Romantic Novelists’ Association and shortlisted for the Best Romantic e-book Love Stories Award 2015, Sheryl has several books published and two short stories in Birmingham City University anthologies, where she completed her MA in Creative Writing.
Recommended to the publisher by the WH Smith Travel fiction buyer, Sheryl’s contemporary fiction comes to you from award winning Choc Lit.
Wow! #ScotsWrite17 What a great adventure. Jet-lag aside, I’m still processing the entire weekend experience.
Complete with my red leather jacket and matching shoes that I wore at my book launch in Kansas.
