Category Archives: #Excerpt

#Excerpt, Cosy Crime, cosy mystery, Gail Meath, murder mystery, Novels

A Bloody Banquet by Gail Meath #extract

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Today at Celtic Connexions, I’m sharing an extract from Gail Meath’s novel, A Bloody Banquet.

banquet

Blurb

Now you see a murder, now you don’t…

The Golden Age of Hollywood, 1938. It’s the annual Awards Banquet at the Cocoanut Grove nightclub, and Vivian Steele can’t wait for the star-studded event. She’s attending with her best friend, Carole Lombard, and several acclaimed actresses will be wearing her fashion designs. What she doesn’t expect is for the night to turn deadly.

During the awards ceremony, Carole finds an actress stabbed to death in the restroom. She quickly alerts the staff, but when they return, they can’t find a body. An hour later, another guest screams bloody murder that an actor drowned in the pool outside. Again, the body disappears.

While the guests have a good laugh, Vivian is convinced the murders took place and reluctantly asks Preston Stone, Hollywood’s notorious playboy, for his help in proving her suspicions.

Together, they uncover a sinister killer who has mastered the art of illusion and set his sights on two Oscar-winning stars. Can Vivian and Preston stop the killer in time…and without revealing their well-kept secrets?

A Bloody Banquet is the second book in this exciting new 1930s Stone & Steele mystery series starring a great cast of characters ranging from the rich and famous to Bella and Boris, the canine costars, and a few other endearing folks. (A pretty clean read – series or standalone)

banquet

Book Links

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/221031404-a-bloody-banquet

Purchase Link: https://mybook.to/bloodybanquet-zbt

Extract

As Vivian sipped her coffee, someone tapped on the front door.  She had half a mind to ignore the person.  It was only ten minutes after eight on a Sunday morning, and the boutique was closed until Tuesday.  Then she heard an all-too-familiar voice followed by a loud howl.

She was livid.  “I told you to call me at nine o’clock, Preston!”

“Unless you want Boris to wake the neighbors, I suggest you open the door,” he shouted back.

With a groan nearly loud enough to wake the neighbors, Vivian gathered her drawings, flipped them upside down on the table, and stormed into the display room.  She opened the door just a crack and peeked out.

Preston grinned at her.  “I’m ninety-nine percent sure the whole thing was a hoax last night, but I didn’t want to make a final decision until you told me what happened in the restroom.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “I can’t do that.  It’s not my story to tell.”

“That’s very gallant of you.  All right, let’s turn this around.  Why don’t I show you what I found in the pool, and maybe you’ll change your mind?  Before we get into that, here’s the complete guest list from last night.”  He stuck a sheet of paper through the crack.

Vivian took it from him and skimmed through it.

“Missus Eleanor Peterson is the woman who claimed she saw a dead man in the pool.  She was married to Charles Peterson, a movie director at Paramount.  He died of a heart attack a year ago.”

“What did you find at the pool?”

“It was in the pool.  Do I smell coffee?”

Boris started pushing on the door, trying to squeeze himself inside, so Vivian opened it.  “There’s a fresh pot in the backroom.”  She patted Boris on the head.  “Bella is next door, but she should be home soon.”  They walked through the display room, and she told Preston to have a seat.  She filled a bowl of water for Boris and put a few bite-sized Milk-Bones on the floor for him.  When she finished, she poured Preston a cup of coffee.  “Okay, tell me what you found in the pool?”

“After you left the nightclub, I went back to search the patio,” he told her.  “Lo and behold, there was a striped necktie wrapped around the ladder in the deep end of the pool.  It was floating in the water.”

Vivian set the coffee cup down in front of him.  “The woman mistook the tie for a dead body?”

About the Author

Banquet

Award-winning author Gail Meath writes historical romance novels that will whisk you away to another time and place in history where you will meet fascinating characters, both fictional and real, who will capture your heart and soul. Meath loves writing about little or unknown people, places and events in history, rather than relying on the typical stories and settings.

Author Links

Facebook https://facebook.com/Gail-Meath-Author-121289219261348
Instagram https://instagram.com/gailmeathauthor
X (formerly Twitter) https://twitter.com/GailMeathAuthor
Website https://www.gailmeath.com

#Excerpt, Authors, Castle Priory Press, Jane Barron de Burgh, Novels

Not All There by Jane Barron de Burgh #excerpt

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I’m thrilled to be able to share with you an excerpt from Not All There by Jane Barron de Burgh.

Jane Barron de Burgh

This cover lends itself to all sorts of wonderment, doesn’t it?
Jane Barron de Burgh

Blurb

Claude’s mother is dead.

Except she won’t stay that way.

She’s back with her family and none of them know what to do about it.

Is there a name for someone who is only sort of dead? And why does Claude feel like he’s the only one celebrating her return?

‘Not All There’ is a character study of grief and the people who experience it, told through the eyes of a bewildered child who struggles to make sense of the death of his mother, Mary and her re-emergence as a ghost.

Familial relationships are tested as Claude, Patience and their father try to answer the question – ‘What do we do about Mary?’

Excerpt

Claude didn’t experience his mother’s death first hand; in fact, neither Claude nor his sister Patience, nor their father had any firsthand experience of Mary’s death. Claude does not even remember how the news was broken to him.

It was simply, understandably, not a memory he wished to preserve and polish, instead just the act of leaving it dormant caused the memory to quickly grow faded. For it does not do to dwell on melancholy. For those who want to know, however, I shall indulge. John, Claude’s father, got the call with Claude beside him. There is a certain expression that falls across a father’s face, when something truly terrible has happened. It erases whatever was worn before it so completely that it can never be recaptured. I hope for your sake you never see that happen.

Claude was not so lucky. He saw the wide eyes, the shudder in his father’s shoulder, how his jaw froze as he tried to take a gasp of air; it whistled down his throat. Claude saw the look in his father’s eyes as they grew blank. His father looked down at Claude’s own searching gaze. Hooded eyes weighed with the heavy burden that said ‘I have to tell my children their mother is dead.’ To Claude the words were just confirmation of what he had already seen in his father’s face. As for his sister, Patience? Oh my, you should have seen how she cried. But this is not her story.

Claude had, very rarely, considered the possibility of his mother dying. Usually after discovering that a fictional hero he had been reading about was, despite their superpowers, motherless. It had never made him feel sad due to the fact it had seemed impossible. The only orphans Claude knew were the ones that existed between the pages of books, but now here he was, a half-orphan and to Claude the vexation of being a half-orphan was all the more tragic as it had none of the romanticism of being a full orphan.

There was silence at the hospital for few people know what to say upon the event of a death. It’s not going to be all right and being told that, isn’t going to help either. I’ll warn you now that time will not heal all, the magical properties of time do not extend this far. Personally, I’ve found that a day thirteen years later feels much worse than a good week thirteen months after the event. Beware the fluid and tempestuous waves of grief.

Book Links

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35617352-not-all-there

Buy Links: https://mybook.to/notallthere-zbt

About Jane Barron de Burgh

Jane Barron de Burgh

Jane Barron de Burgh is an Essex based author and poet. They graduated from the Open University with a Masters in English in 2022. They are a keen student of Oulipo and found poetry.

Published by Castle Priory Press, Not All There, is their first literary novella and deals with themes of childhood grief.

You can follow Jane at these links:

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/janetheauthor

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61556083952092

Twitter: https://twitter.com/makepeacelvjoy

Website: https://janebarrondeburgh.co.uk/

Jane Barron de Burgh

#amwriting, #Excerpt, Book Promo, contemporary fiction, contemporary romance, Novels, sweet romance

Prologue from It Happened at Lake Louise – first draft #amwriting

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It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything on my blog, let alone any of my own work. So, if you’ll indulge me, this is the first draft of the prologue from the fourth book in my “It Happened” series – It Happened at Lake Louise.

prologue
image courtesy of Pixabay

This book is darker than the earlier books in the series, in that the main character suffered an abusive childhood.

 

Prologue

 

“Hello, Abi.”

That voice. Lori’s blood ran cold as if ice water coursed through her veins and her heart pounded so hard it threatened to burst through her chest. Only one person ever called her that. Even her parents always used her full name – Abigail. If she was in trouble then it was Abigail Laurie Brownell.

The Great Dane exited a low rumble of a growl. Her left index finger worked its way between the bracelets to the scars on her right wrist. Raised welts from years of cutting and a deep gouge where she’d taken a chunk out of her arm.

This couldn’t be happening. She arranged to meet Wolfgang’s owner near the Chateau Lake Louise to ensure his safe return to him and his home in Fort Mac. People came and went in droves here. The phrase safety in numbers suited this place to a T. No way would she have met a stranger at her apartment in Calgary. Who knew what creeps waited to prey on a single white female? She’d been a victim as a child and into her teens. Not anymore. A steady stream of pedestrians strolled past where they stood. They’d help her if needed. Wouldn’t they?

The person Lori communicated with via text messages and Messenger didn’t come across as the type who would cause such a reaction in their pet. She turned around her movements awkward from an old injury.

“Unc … how?” She stammered, unable to form the words she wanted to say. Her worst nightmare had come true. She thought she put the past well behind her when she finished school and landed a job in Calgary. Moving out of Saskatchewan wasn’t enough.

“Abigail Laurie Brownell. Did you think we’d never find you?”

“My name is Lori Brownlee,” she spat. Those words came out too late. Her momentary sense of bravado disappeared. She had given away her true identity with her first reaction. Gawd, sometimes she was so stupid and trusting.

“Aren’t you just the clever clogs?” he sneered. “I see you still haven’t had that ankle fixed. I offered to take you to the hospital when I found you at the foot of the stairs.”

“Because of you, I fell down the steps in the first place. I was trying to get away from you, you pervert.”

The dog at her side continued to growl, but now the rumblings sounded menacing. Her uncle may have frightened her when she was a child, but not anymore. Yeah right. Her entire body vibrated with fear as his face loomed in front of her and the memories of her unhappy, abusive childhood flooded to the surface.

“Lori! Lori Brownlee?” a man’s voice called from behind her.

Afraid to take her eyes off her uncle, she didn’t turn in his direction. “Are you Chris? Christopher Scott?”

“Yeah. Sorry I’m late. An accident backed the traffic up for miles.”

The Great Dane beside her wagged its tail so hard its entire body shook and tugged on her hand, holding the leash.

“Wolfgang! Come here. boy,” he said.

Lori released the lead, and the dog left. She couldn’t bring herself to turn away from her uncle, despite wanting to see Wolfgang’s owner. She didn’t trust her uncle now and she shouldn’t have trusted him then. Soon, the Great Dane leaned against her left leg, and a tall man sporting a moustache and beard stood next to the dog.

* * *

“I want to thank you for rescuing Wolfgang. I’d seen clips of him on the news broadcasts. No one else could get near him but you.”

“No problem,” she replied, her eyes still held fast on the man before them. “I’d seen him on the news, too. I tried to team up with the other animal rescue groups, but I was too late. Still, I’m happy I got him out of the danger zone.”

There was something in her expression. Sadness? She’d probably grown attached to the gigantic dog in the time she’d cared for him. Returning Wolfgang to his owner? No, not that. It was something deeper. Fear? Possible. Of him or the man facing them? Since his arrival, she hadn’t turned and looked at him once.

“You okay?” he asked.

A barely perceptible nod was the response. Christopher didn’t believe the gesture. Something was amiss. Despite the bright sunshine, a dark cloud of gloom appeared to surround Lori. A breeze caught her blonde-streaked brown hair and blew in her face. When she reached to tuck the errant strand behind her ear, her ice-cold hand brushed against his arm. A scar, visible now that she secured her hair, followed her hairline for approximately two inches. A childhood injury from falling off a bike?

He had quite a few battle scars from his youth, too. Broken bones from playing on the high school football team. Stitches from skateboard accidents and tumbles from bicycles. The worst happened on a night he and his pals, Ron Smith and Nick Jones, spent joyriding in Nick’s father’s car. Nick lost control and the car careened over an embankment. Chris got off lucky because he wore his seatbelt and sat in the back, behind the driver’s seat. The other two were worse off, although they survived. It was hard to say which was worse, the accident, the police involvement or facing his parents after his discharge from the emergency department.

There was a resemblance between Lori and this man — maybe not enough to be siblings, but family.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” the man asked.

“No.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Christopher suggested. He draped a protective arm around Lori’s shoulders and they turned and started for the parking lot where Chris left his truck.

“If you’ve not experienced it yet, she likes it rough,” the man yelled.

“Who is that creep?”

“M-my uncle.”

 

So there you have it. I’d love to know what you think. You can leave your feedback in the comments.

#cover, #Excerpt, #suspense, #sweetromance, cover reveal, It Happened in Gastown, It Happened Series, King Park Press, Novel covers, novella, Novels, suspense, sweet romance

It Happened in Gastown (It Happened Book 2)

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The moment you’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived! At least I hope you’ve all been waiting for it. 😉 Drum roll, please … Here for the first time is the beautiful cover of  Book 2 in my It Happened series – It Happened in Gastown – a sweet romance with suspense.

Here we go, without any further ado, I give you

It Happened in Gastown

 

it happened in gastown

Isn’t it beautiful?

Blurb

Trainspotting meets Hot Pursuit…

Hilary Dunbar is a uniformed constable with the Vancouver Police with an agenda to rid the streets of drugs, especially the bad ones the notorious dealer, Carlos Navarra, is trafficking.

Heroin addict, Erik Layne, has lived on the streets of Gastown for as long as he can remember, having left home and Toronto as a rebellious teenage addict. His and Hilary’s paths cross when she finds him unconscious in an alley after injecting a batch of the contaminated drug. He must fight for his life to keep from dying, not only from the tainted smack but also from the man who provided it.

A domestic disturbance call goes wrong, and Hilary suffers life-changing injuries as a result. As luck would have it, she and Erik are hospitalized in the same ward at Vancouver General Hospital. When she sinks into a deep depression, it’s he who pulls her out of her doldrums.

But will Hilary’s obsession with bringing down Navarra and others like him destroy their relationship and, more importantly, jeopardize their lives?

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Out on routine patrol, Constables Hilary Dunbar and her partner Lukas Stephanopoulos drove north on Cambie Street towards the Gastown Steam Clock. As they passed the end of Blood Alley, she shouted, “Back up. Something’s down there.”

“Your imagination getting the better of you again?” He teased, but pulled over to the curb and slowly reversed until they blocked the mouth of the narrow passage.

Originally they called the lane Trounce Alley. Some maps still referred to the laneway as that. Others labelled the back street Blood Alley. Given the appearance, Hilary thought the latter more appropriate.

Window down, she trained the beam from the powerful spotlight mounted on the cruiser’s mirror into the alleyway. “See, beyond those dumpsters.”

“Likely just garbage.”

“Wait here; I’m going to take a closer look.”

Before exiting the car, she plucked a pair of nitrile gloves and the naloxone kit from the glove compartment. Once out, she shoved them in the pockets of her trousers. With the fingertips of her right hand brushing her gun holster and gripping the barrel of the torch in her left, she sidled towards the object.

Graffiti tags covered the walls of the buildings as well as the wooden hydro poles. The farther into the confined space she crept, the hairs on the nape of her neck bristled beneath the bun in which she styled her black hair. Whatever was down there wasn’t rubbish, as Luke said. The pong of stale urine made her eyes water.

Past the second dumpster, the body of a young man leaned against the wall. Dishevelled and filthy, his body odour was strong enough to make the foulest of skunk spray seem mild. At first glance, he appeared dead. His skin had a bluish tinge, and weeping sores dotted his face. Dark circles surrounded his eyes. Inching forward, Hilary squatted beside him.

A blood-filled syringe protruded from his left arm. Flashlight held under her chin; she donned the synthetic rubber gloves she brought with her and felt his neck for a pulse. The rhythmic throbbing beneath her fingertips, barely discernible.

The naloxone. The kit had been made available to officers who wanted the medication. Luke was against carrying the opioid blocker in the cruiser, but Hilary persuaded him. Now was the time to use it. She took the package out of her other trouser pocket, peeled the wrapper open and placed the nozzle in the victim’s left nostril and pressed the plunger.

She keyed the mic on her handset and started to speak. “Constable Dunbar.” As though on cue, the nearby Steam Clock began whistling — no sense in trying to outperform the contraption. Wait for the completion of its proclamation of the top of the hour — Westminster chimes followed by singular whistle blasts counting out the time. Soon relative quiet returned and Hilary tried again. “Constable Dunbar. Badge 8652. I need an ambulance at Blood Alley and Cambie Street. Suspected drug overdose. Have administered four milligrams of Narcan nasal spray. No response as of yet.”

By now, Luke had the cruiser’s roof lights on. Blue, red and white alternating then running from the driver’s side to the passenger’s side of the vehicle.

The wail of the siren grew louder. In minutes, paramedics jumped out and trundled a stretcher and medical equipment to the stricken person.

Hilary stood back, letting them do their jobs. “I gave him Narcan,” she said, handing the spent plastic bottle to one of them.

“He’s alive … just. You found him in time. We’ve bagged the needle so they can run tests on the contents at the hospital. Figure out what he shot into his veins.”

Buy Links

It Happened in Gastown releases on December 1st, but you can pre-order your copy now for the low price of $2.99/£2.99.

Kindle

Kobo

Book 1 in the series – It Happened on Dufferin Terrace is on sale for $0.99/£0.99 or you can enter my giveaway to win a kindle or kobo copy.

To enter, leave me a comment. Your name will be entered in a draw on December 1st (launch day for It Happened in Gastown).

#Excerpt, HQ Digital/Harper Collins, Novels, Rachel Dove, romantic fiction

THE WEDDING SHOP ON WEXLEY STREET by Rachel Dove

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wedding shop

The Wedding Shop on Wexley Street
by
Rachel Dove

wedding shop

Series: Westfield village series #3

Genre: romantic fiction

Release Date: 10th August 2018

Publisher: HQ Digital

Maria is ready to say ‘yes’ to the dress!

As owner of Happy Ever After, Maria Mallory is Westfield’s resident wedding planner, spending her days making dreams come true for future brides.

Maria even has her own perfect day planned out too, she just needs to find the right man. So when she falls in love with local celeb Darcy Burgess she can’t believe her luck – it was finally her turn for her Happy Ever After. Or so she thought.

Jilted at the altar, Maria can’t believe that her fairytale ending hasn’t come true. She’s ready to give up on love once and for all. But little does she know that once you stop looking for it, love has a way of surprising you…

A laugh-out-loud romance, perfect for fans of Holly Martin and Tilly Tennant.

EXTRACT

Two hours later, Maria found herself in Harrogate, squeezed into the red dress, heels pinching her feet, wondering why the hell she wasn’t sat on Cass’s couch eating ice cream and crying. She said the same to Cass as they walked on tottering heels to the nearest trendy bar, Ice, in the wine bar and posh eatery part of Harrogate’s city centre, which, coincidentally, butted up against the legal quarter of Harrogate, and no doubt the two sides kept each other in business quite well too. Walking into Ice with Cassie, it was hard to ignore the stares that her friend attracted. Cassie Welburn was, let’s face it, sex on a twenty nine year old stick. She was always tanned thanks to her meticulous salon treatments, plucked and shaped to perfection, and tonight, as usual, was dressed to kill. Even Maria’s daring red dress looked tame in light of Cassie’s black and silver dress, slashed to the thigh, combined with sparkly silver heels that make Cassie even taller than her just under six foot frame. Maria blushed and nudged Cass’s elbow with her own.

“People are staring Cass.” Cassie shrugged.

“Let them stare, girl. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” Maria belatedly realised that tonight, thanks to that ridiculous article, the stares may indeed be for her and not her glamorous friend. She cringed inwardly, and planted a smile on her face.  She took her friend by the arm, and pushing her boobs out and her chin up, she headed to the bar. “Let’s get smashed,” she declared.

BUY LINK

Amazon UK – https://goo.gl/5EgXqB

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

WEDDING SHOP

I am a writer and teacher, living in West Yorkshire with my husband, our two sons, and our furry pets.

In July 2015, I won the Prima magazine and Mills & Boon Flirty Fiction Competition, with my entry, The Chic Boutique on Baker Street, out now in ebook and paperback. The Flower Shop on Foxley Street followed this in 2017 and both books hit the Amazon top 200. Chic Boutique got to #2 in the rural life humour chart and is regularly in the top 100 of that chart.

I am the winner of the Writers Bureau Writer of the Year Award in 2016 and I have had work published in the UK and overseas in various magazines.

My next book, The Long Walk Back, is out in January 2018 and I am currently writing the last book in the Westfield series. My first book with Manatee Books, Nice Guys Finish Lonely, is out in April 2018 in ebook and paperback. I love to write romantic fiction, both rom-com and harder hitting women’s fiction.

I am also a post 16 teacher and am undertaking an MA in Creative Writing at Teesside University.

I love to chat on twitter so come say hi! @writerdove

I also run a blog (very occasionally these days): racheldoveauthor@wordpress.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelDoveauthor/?ref=bookmarks

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WriterDove

Goodreads Author Page: https://goo.gl/CPJkbr

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/writerdove/

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+RachelDovewriter

GIVEAWAY

A signed spiral bound paperback of the book plus bookmarks

(open Internationally)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

#Excerpt, Aria Fiction, Authors, cosy mystery, Head of Zeus, Lucy Coleman, Novels, sweet romance

Welcome back to The French Adventure by @LucyColemanauth

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French Adventure

The French Adventure

by

Lucy Coleman

 

French Adventure

Genre: Sweet romance/cosy mystery

Release Date: 1 February 2018

Publisher: Aria Fiction (Head of Zeus)

Packed full of French flavour and idyllic settings this is a romantic, heart-warming and unputdownable new novel about life and love, perfect for anyone who loves Milly Johnson, Lucy Diamond and Debbie Johnson.

Suddenly unemployed and single, Anna escapes to her parents’ beautiful house in France for a much-needed recharge – and to work out what she wants to do next with her life now her carefully mapped out plan has gone out the window.

Anna gives herself 6 months to recuperate, all the while helping renovate her parents’ adjoining gites into picturesque B&Bs. But working alongside the ruggedly handsome Sam on the renovation project, she didn’t expect for life to take an unexpected, if not unwelcome, twist…

Excerpt

The L Word

Two weeks today will be the first anniversary of our first real date. Being wined and dined in a chic little French restaurant was a gigantic step forward; it signalled the beginning of a new era in my relationship with Karl. Even though at least half of the meal was spent talking about work, his intentions were clear – we were no longer simply colleagues and romance was in the air.

Since then, Karl must have told me that he loves me more than a thousand times. You might think I’m exaggerating, but I can assure you that’s not the case. He usually manages to slip it into the conversation at least three times a day. The first time he said the L word to me, it slid off his tongue so easily I could almost have missed it. It wasn’t a staring into each other’s eyes moment of discovery, just a casual ‘love you, babe’.

As the months rolled by, I pushed aside my growing fear that it was only a word to him. Because it means so much more to me, I freeze whenever he tacks it onto a sentence.

And, yes, I’m very aware that my air of disapproval does make me sound ungrateful and undeserving. But it’s all about self-preservation, you see. I’ll never utter that word again until I’m one hundred per cent certain that the man I’m saying it to believes I’m their soul mate too – the perfect fit.

The last time I uttered the L word, was six years ago. It was to a guy I’d known since childhood and the man I genuinely believed I would marry when the time was right. He was handsome in a rugged way, fired up with ambition and exciting to be around. Sadly, everyone we knew thought we were the perfect couple too, except the guy in question, as it turned out…

BUY LINK

http://smarturl.it/TheFrenchAdventure

GOODREADS

https://goo.gl/k3hEkq

ABOUT LUCY COLEMAN

French Adventure

Lucy Coleman always knew that one day she would write, but first life took her on a wonderful journey of self-discovery for which she is very grateful.

Family life and two very diverse careers later she now spends most days glued to a keyboard, which she refers to as her personal quality time.

‘It’s only when you know who you are that you truly understand what makes you happy – and writing about love, life and relationships makes me leap out of bed every morning!’

If she isn’t online she’s either playing with the kids, whose imaginations seem to know no bounds, or painting something. As a serial house mover together with her lovely husband, there is always a new challenge to keep her occupied!

Lucy also writes under the name Linn B. Halton.

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/LinnBHaltonAuthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LucyColemanauth

Goodreads Author Page: http://ow.ly/mk3H30atV5h

Website:  http://linnbhalton.co.uk/

GIVEAWAY

A signed paperback copy of The Secrets of Villa Rosso and an iHeart pack. (UK only)

French Adventure

a Rafflecopter giveaway

#amwriting, #ChristmasInJuly, #ebook, #Excerpt, It Happened on Dufferin Terrace, Kindle, King Park Press, kobo, novella, romantic fiction, sweet romance, Vieux-Québec

99¢/99p until July 23rd! It Happened on Dufferin Terrace #ChristmasinJuly #sweet #romance

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That’s right, during the pre-order period and launch day (July 22), you can get It Happened on Dufferin Terrace for the kindle or kobo for only 99¢/99p.

She’s married to her career… He’s a widowed father…

99¢/99p

Miracle on 34th Street meets Sleepless in Seattle in

It Happened on Dufferin Terrace

Toronto business consultant, Serenity Layne, knew the only person she could depend on was herself. Married to her career, she has no time for other pursuits and life’s intangibles.

Widowed for three years, Roger Scott, a data security specialist in Quebec City, is a single parent to his ten-year-old son, Adam.

On a day out on the Plains of Abraham with their black Labrador retriever, Roger’s cell phone rings incessantly. Adam has played matchmaker and put his father’s profile on a number of online dating sites.

The week before Christmas, Serenity is heading up a series of meetings after a six-month study of the Canadian retail chain, jonathans. After an unpleasant encounter with one of the store managers, she escapes from the boardroom of the Château Frontenac Hotel, only to be bowled over by Roger and Adam’s dog.

Guilty over the accident, Roger invites Serenity out for a drink by way of apology. Over the course of the week, and spending time together, feelings long dormant for Roger are re-awakened. At the same time, emotions foreign to Serenity fill her with contentment and happiness.

Will the couple get their happily ever after?

 

It Happened on Dufferin Terrace is the first book in the It Happened series, a set of sweet, contemporary romances by author, Melanie Robertson-King. If entertaining and heartwarming romances are for you, then you’ll fall in love with this entry in a light, romantic series set in picturesque Canadian locations.

 

SPECIAL PRICE! Pre-order now for only $0.99/£0.99.

 

BUY LINKS

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 99¢/99p

 

EXCERPT

The following morning, six months of gruelling work came to fruition. In the Place d’Armes conference room, Serenity turned on her MacBook Air with the PowerPoint presentation and ensured the projector functioned. In addition to the electronic copy, the hard copies she made in Montreal for the jonathans participants were placed them in front of each chair.

This was the first time her superior sat in on one of her meetings, making her more nervous than normal. Did he not trust her judgement?

Scheduled to start at ten a.m., a number of attendees were still missing. The time function on her Fitbit indicated three minutes to go. The managers had to arrive soon or her boss’s trust in her abilities would be shattered. A brief assessment of her leather-bound notebook confirmed the time and date.

Gradually, men in three-piece suits, shirts and ties straggled in. They nodded at her as they took their seats. During her visits to the outlets across Canada, she came together with them. All were friendly and cooperative. Some stores performed well, while others struggled.

The head of jonathans made his entrance. Well over six feet in stature, with a stocky frame, his imposing size commanded respect and attention.

“Good morning,” she said.

The man acknowledged her with a nod of his head and moved to the head of the table.

Now, she and the other attendees waited for her missing employer and one last jonathans employee.

“We’ll give them another five minutes then we’ll start. In the meantime, feel free to look at the documents in front of you.” She lingered by the chair used by the director of the Vancouver location and smiled.

The door burst open, eliminating the opportunity to speak with the gentleman. In the gap stood the man from the Yorkville Avenue outlet, as unkempt as the first time she met him. When he looked up, his eyes bulged, and his jaw dropped. “You’re the hard-nosed, jumped up high and mighty who made trouble. You’re the reason we’re having this powwow,” he snapped.

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Coat plucked from the rack, she darted out the door putting on the garment on the fly. The man busted her straight away. No way could she head this meeting now. Where was Martin Thacker? He would have stood by her.

She left the hotel, turned right, and scurried through the arched vehicular entryway on Rue Saint Louis. From there, she stumbled to the boardwalk running adjacent to the spectacular architecture and overlooked the St. Lawrence River and the town underneath.

Snow, packed down from shovelling and plowing, made the boards slippery. High-heeled shoes were inappropriate for the conditions, but escaping that room was paramount.

Why did she allow that man to antagonize her? Any other time, any other meeting and she would have let comments like his roll off her. This action was out of character.

Struggling to maintain her balance, she picked her way to the hand rail. At least she had gloves in her pockets. After extracting the knitted mittens, she pulled them on her hands and tried to regain her composure so she could go back to the meeting. She would have to create an excuse for her sudden departure.

Arms resting on the bannister, she took in long, slow breaths. Each time she exhaled a puff of steam formed in front of her.

About to go back into the warmth of the hotel’s conference room, she let go and turned. A massive black dog charged at her with a man and a boy in pursuit. The ear flaps of the man’s trapper hat resembled wings. Stretched out horizontally, how he managed not to take flight astounded her.

“Tori, bad girl. Halt.” The man shouted commands to the canine, but the animal was oblivious to them.

Before she had an opportunity to react, the black Lab launched itself in the air and hit her square in the chest knocking her to the ground. The impact sent her eyeglasses flying and they crashed on the granite ledge beneath the handrail. The child dove for them but couldn’t get a proper grip. His fingertips brushed the frames and her eyewear skittered away from him on the icy rock and vanished.

 

#amwriting, #ChristmasInJuly, #ebook, #Excerpt, It Happened on Dufferin Terrace, Kindle, King Park Press, kobo, novella, romantic fiction, sweet romance, Vieux-Québec

#Cover #Reveal ~ It Happened on Dufferin Terrace #ChristmasinJuly #sweet #romance

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It’s the moment we’ve all be waiting for… well, at least I have. I can now show off the cover of my upcoming Christmas novella, It Happened on Dufferin Terrace.

She’s married to her career… He’s a widowed father…

it happened

Miracle on 34th Street meets Sleepless in Seattle in

It Happened on Dufferin Terrace

Toronto business consultant, Serenity Layne, knew the only person she could depend on was herself. Married to her career, she has no time for other pursuits and life’s intangibles.

Widowed for three years, Roger Scott, a data security specialist in Quebec City, is a single parent to his ten-year-old son, Adam.

On a day out on the Plains of Abraham with their black Labrador retriever, Roger’s cell phone rings incessantly. Adam has played matchmaker and put his father’s profile on a number of online dating sites.

The week before Christmas, Serenity is heading up a series of meetings after a six-month study of the Canadian retail chain, jonathans. After an unpleasant encounter with one of the store managers, she escapes from the boardroom of the Château Frontenac Hotel, only to be bowled over by Roger and Adam’s dog.

Guilty over the accident, Roger invites Serenity out for a drink by way of apology. Over the course of the week, and spending time together, feelings long dormant for Roger are re-awakened. At the same time, emotions foreign to Serenity fill her with contentment and happiness.

Will the couple get their happily ever after?

 

It Happened on Dufferin Terrace is the first book in the It Happened series, a set of sweet, contemporary romances by author, Melanie Robertson-King. If entertaining and heartwarming romances are for you, then you’ll fall in love with this entry in a light, romantic series set in picturesque Canadian locations.

 

SPECIAL PRICE! Pre-order now for only $0.99/£0.99.

 

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 it happened

 

EXCERPT

The following morning, six months of gruelling work came to fruition. In the Place d’Armes conference room, Serenity turned on her MacBook Air with the PowerPoint presentation and ensured the projector functioned. In addition to the electronic copy, the hard copies she made in Montreal for the jonathans participants were placed them in front of each chair.

This was the first time her superior sat in on one of her meetings, making her more nervous than normal. Did he not trust her judgement?

Scheduled to start at ten a.m., a number of attendees were still missing. The time function on her Fitbit indicated three minutes to go. The managers had to arrive soon or her boss’s trust in her abilities would be shattered. A brief assessment of her leather-bound notebook confirmed the time and date.

Gradually, men in three-piece suits, shirts and ties straggled in. They nodded at her as they took their seats. During her visits to the outlets across Canada, she came together with them. All were friendly and cooperative. Some stores performed well, while others struggled.

The head of jonathans made his entrance. Well over six feet in stature, with a stocky frame, his imposing size commanded respect and attention.

“Good morning,” she said.

The man acknowledged her with a nod of his head and moved to the head of the table.

Now, she and the other attendees waited for her missing employer and one last jonathans employee.

“We’ll give them another five minutes then we’ll start. In the meantime, feel free to look at the documents in front of you.” She lingered by the chair used by the director of the Vancouver location and smiled.

The door burst open, eliminating the opportunity to speak with the gentleman. In the gap stood the man from the Yorkville Avenue outlet, as unkempt as the first time she met him. When he looked up, his eyes bulged, and his jaw dropped. “You’re the hard-nosed, jumped up high and mighty who made trouble. You’re the reason we’re having this powwow,” he snapped.

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Coat plucked from the rack, she darted out the door putting on the garment on the fly. The man busted her straight away. No way could she head this meeting now. Where was Martin Thacker? He would have stood by her.

She left the hotel, turned right, and scurried through the arched vehicular entryway on Rue Saint Louis. From there, she stumbled to the boardwalk running adjacent to the spectacular architecture and overlooked the St. Lawrence River and the town underneath.

Snow, packed down from shovelling and plowing, made the boards slippery. High-heeled shoes were inappropriate for the conditions, but escaping that room was paramount.

Why did she allow that man to antagonize her? Any other time, any other meeting and she would have let comments like his roll off her. This action was out of character.

Struggling to maintain her balance, she picked her way to the hand rail. At least she had gloves in her pockets. After extracting the knitted mittens, she pulled them on her hands and tried to regain her composure so she could go back to the meeting. She would have to create an excuse for her sudden departure.

Arms resting on the bannister, she took in long, slow breaths. Each time she exhaled a puff of steam formed in front of her.

About to go back into the warmth of the hotel’s conference room, she let go and turned. A massive black dog charged at her with a man and a boy in pursuit. The ear flaps of the man’s trapper hat resembled wings. Stretched out horizontally, how he managed not to take flight astounded her.

“Tori, bad girl. Halt.” The man shouted commands to the canine, but the animal was oblivious to them.

Before she had an opportunity to react, the black Lab launched itself in the air and hit her square in the chest knocking her to the ground. The impact sent her eyeglasses flying and they crashed on the granite ledge beneath the handrail. The child dove for them but couldn’t get a proper grip. His fingertips brushed the frames and her eyewear skittered away from him on the icy rock and vanished.

 

#Excerpt, Novels, Psychological Thriller, romantic suspense

#Excerpt from YESTERDAY TODAY ALWAYS #romsuspense #thriller

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#Excerpt from

Today I’m sharing an #excerpt from my romantic suspense/psychological thriller, YESTERDAY TODAY ALWAYS. I hope you enjoy it.

Will a reckless moment from her past come back to haunt her?

Devastated by the death of her husband, Colin, in the London bombings on July 7, 2005, Katherine Murphy-Whithorn builds a wall around her heart determined to never let anyone in again. Settling in to a comfortable routine, her life becomes mundane, until five years later when someone from her rebellious past returns to the city and begins stalking her.
As the curtain falls on 2010 her first love, Jared Martin, walks back into Katherine´s life. Despite him being her first love, he must tear down the barrier she´s created to protect herself. Finally seeing a second chance of a life with him, Katherine couldn´t be happier until another cruel twist of fate strikes. The helicopter returning from the Alpha Ecosse platform, on which Jared is a passenger, ditches in the North Sea. Can he survive the ordeal?
Will they get their chance for happiness? Or is fate still not done its dirty deeds? Katherine’s stalker may have his own agenda.

**********

#EXCERPT

The pub was crowded. People mingled over after work drinks. Music blared from the speakers.

He tapped her shoulder. “You go grab the booth back there in the corner. I’ll get them in. What’ll you have?”

“Gin and tonic, please.”

The floor was sticky in patches under her feet from spilled spirits, mixes and beer. Tonight because the place was full, the smell of ale, faint scent of juniper, combined with assorted body odours, colognes and perfumes was overpowering.

When she got to the seats he pointed out, she chose the far side so she could people watch. But he was the only person with whom she had any interest. His snug fitting, faded jeans accentuated the muscles in his thighs. Man he was fit. Sexy, too, leaning against the bar. He turned, smiled and winked at her and her cheeks got hot. Katherine knew she was blushing but couldn’t help herself and she couldn’t stop staring at him either.

Melissa’s comment about the homeless man scaring her played on her mind. When she encountered him in other parts of Aberdeen, she never paid much attention. Now, he was on her street, hanging out around her store. Business was already down these past six months. That was enough cause for concern.

He sat Katherine’s G&T on the cardboard beer mat on the table and eased on the bench across from her. Leaning back, he stretched out his legs, bumping her foot in the process. “Sorry,” he responded before taking a slug of his Caledonian 80.

“I-I can’t believe I’m sitting here with you. After all these years.” Katherine raised her glass but her hand trembled. She had to steady it with both hands.

“I know what you mean.” He removed the old-fashioned from her grasp and sat it on the table. He held her hands in his, stroking them with this thumbs. “That day you walked away from me, I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“I didn’t go by choice.”

“I know. I’ll never forget the look on your face when your father yanked you out of my arms at the security checkpoint at the airport.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“My life was a mess back then. You know that. I wish I had but you would have grown to resent what you gave up or worse, I would have been done for assault.”

From the moment her mother and father discovered her relationship with Jared, they were determined he was not good enough for their little girl; her father especially. “I despised them for taking me away from you. I hated Canada. The first chance I got I came back. And then I found you with her. I was back for a while but not seen you. I even went to where you lived when we first met and they told me you moved. What was I to think?”

The wail of a siren pierced the din in the pub. As he turned, the sparkle of a diamond flashed. Katherine brushed his hair away from his left lobe. “You’re still wearing that?”

“Been there since the day you deserted me at the airport.”

Reaching up, she pulled back her long, copper tresses and revealed the mate to the earring he wore in her upper ear. “Got this piercing after we moved to Canada. First thing I did when I got on my own. One of my many acts of defiance. Believe it or not, I was more of a rebel there than I was before they dragged me off kicking and screaming.”

He chuckled at her statement, leaned forward and ran his fingers up and down his glass wiping away the condensation. The action made Katherine wish she were the one he was stroking. She squirmed in her seat. Her parents ruined everything when they took her away.

“As soon as I came back I went to your old place so we could pick up where we left off but the people wouldn’t tell me where you were.”

“Didn’t know that. Guess I started working on the rigs a couple of months after you went. I moved closer to the airport to make a shorter commute.” He took hold of her hands and stroked the backs of them with his thumbs. “Truth be told, I didn’t expect you to come back. I figured you’d find some guy there about your own age and it would be the end of us.”

“Five years isn’t a huge difference.”

“Your parents sure thought different. Good thing you were sixteen or they would have had my arse thrown in jail.”

She smiled. “Don’t forget. We got together before that. So yeah, glad they didn’t. I would have had to spend those nights at Steph’s for real, rather than with you.”

“I forgot about that.” He hoisted his glass and drained it.

“B-but I thought we were over when I finally saw you after our grad party. You appeared so cozy with that girl.”

“Oh her. A mistake. One of the lads on the rig set me up with her. I hoped once I saw you that night, we would have a chance.”

“And I thought we didn’t because I assumed you were having a good time with her all cuddled together.”

“What about you? I could say the same. You looked pretty happy, yourself, with that guy.”

“I was. I didn’t expect to see you there. You don’t know how jealous I was. I guess I got involved with Colin seriously to get my own back at you.”

“I never meant to hurt you. Never stopped thinking about you and our time together.”

A tear fell from Katherine’s eye. Before she could swipe at it, he brushed the droplet away with his thumb. “Tell me, please. I want to know why you’re so sad.”

She gulped back a sob and answered. “Not long after we got the bookstore, not even married more than a minute – after seeing you and … her, thought we were over. Colin was a nice bloke so when he asked, I said yes. Anyway, we got the chance to buy the place.”

“And?”

“He was killed in the London bombings. He went on a book buying trip and didn’t come home. He was at King’s Cross to catch his train to Aberdeen.” She pulled a gold chain out from under her layers of clothing and toyed with the wedding ring dangling from it. “This is all I have left of him.” By now, Katherine sobbed uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea and had no intentions of hurting you.” He eased around the end of the booth and gathered her in his arms. “Finish your drink and we’ll leave. Take you somewhere and cheer you up.”

Outdoors, she began to feel better. The fresh air helped clear her head of the unpleasant memories of her past. “Let’s go back to mine,” she suggested feeling brazen thanks to being with him again and her passion for him returning. “It’s not far. Just over the bookshop.” She took his hand and led the way.

**********

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#Excerpt, A.A. Abbott, Book Promo, crime writer, Crime/Mystery, Crime/Thriller, Novels

THE BRIDE’S TRAIL by A. A. Abbott #Excerpt

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bride's trail

THE BRIDE’S TRAIL

by

A. A. Abbott

Perfect for fans of John Grisham, Jeffrey Archer and Ruth Rendell

Twenty grand has vanished from Shaun Halloran’s casino, and so has gorgeous blonde croupier Kat White. Once he’s tracked her down, he’ll shoot first and ask questions later.

Amy Satterthwaite’s just learned Kat stole her ID for a sham marriage. Desperate to clear her name and save her friend from Shaun, she swallows her pride and turns to arrogant Ross Pritchard for help. But can they find Kat in time?

Twists and tension keep the pages turning in A.A. Abbott’s stunning crime thriller. As Kat’s trail leads from London’s smart Fitzrovia to secret tunnels below central Birmingham, the stakes couldn’t be higher.

AMAZON US

AMAZON UK

Extract

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Where’s Kat? I need to see her.”

“I don’t know.”

He took the knife from his pocket.

“No,” Amy said, “I really don’t know. If I did, I’d tell you. She’s been gone for three days and I can’t reach her. I’ve tried, believe me.” This was no time for heroics. Had she the slightest idea of Kat’s whereabouts, she would have divulged them, of that she was sure.

His eyes darted down to the knife. He flicked it open, stroked its blade, then looked up at her again. “I need answers, Amy,” he said, almost sorrowfully. “If someone had stolen twenty grand from you, you’d want some answers too.”

“Kat stole twenty thousand pounds?” A week ago she wouldn’t have believed it. Now, she couldn’t be sure. “That’s not all she’s done. She married an illegal immigrant, using my name. The police were round this morning.”

“Do they know where she is?”

Amy sighed. “No.”

“Good. I want to see her before the police do. I don’t suppose they’ve searched this flat for clues to her whereabouts?”

She was silent.

“No,” he said. “I thought not. You and me, Amy, we’re going to do that now, before any such clues might do a vanishing act like our mutual friend. Show me Kat’s room.”

“You’re in it.”

He looked around, shook his head. “Really? I thought this was the lounge. Okay, I want you to take everything out of those boxes.” He pointed to a stack of wooden wine crates, painted white, in which Kat’s belongings were stowed.

The top crate was crammed with shopping bags, over a dozen of them, bearing the names of designer boutiques: Prada, Marc Jacobs, Miu Miu and more. Reluctantly, Amy picked up a bag.

“Open it,” the knifeman said.

It was from Agent Provocateur, a powder pink paper bag sealed with a black ribbon. Carefully, Amy untied the bow. Inside, there was a pink cardboard box.

“Now that,” he ordered.

“Must I?” Amy pleaded. “These are Kat’s personal things.”

“That’s the whole point.”

Silently, she opened the box, unfolded the black tissue paper inside and shook out a frilly silk underwear set. A receipt showed it had cost two hundred pounds.

He whistled, leering. “Very nice. Now the rest.”

Altogether, Kat had spent over four thousand pounds on unworn purchases. “A shopping addiction,” he said thoughtfully, reflecting Amy’s surprised reaction. “Carry on.”

The crates below mostly contained clothes, neatly folded, and shoes in bags. There were a few books, overspill from the shelves by the wall, and finally, a box file containing paperwork.

“Give me that,” the dangerous stranger commanded. He fished out a letter. “Dearest Kat,” he read aloud, “I hope you are well. I am fine, and so is Cedric the Cat, but he is very old now. I have a little job now at Treasures in Harborne. Same old, same old. Do write and tell me your news. With love, Auntie Lizzie.” He paused. “Isn’t that sweet?” he said sarcastically. “Let’s see if there’s more of the same.”

He rifled through the box, shaking his head. Evidently, nothing further was deemed worthy of comment. He asked her to empty the only other article of storage in the room, a large rosewood chest, but that merely yielded towels and bedding.

“Interesting, and predictable,” he muttered. “I’ll tell you what we haven’t found. No suitcase, money, passport, women’s things like cosmetics. No certificates for qualifications, birth, marriage even.” He looked pointedly at Amy. “She’s done a runner.”

Amy bit her tongue. He was unlikely to appreciate being told he was stating the obvious.

He pocketed the letter. “I’ll be back. And you’ll tell me where she is, okay?” He fingered the knife again. “Not a word to the Old Bill. I’ve never been here, not on your life.”

“What about the CCTV?” she couldn’t resist challenging him.

“What about it?” he said dismissively. “None in that car park. I cut the wires.” He stood to leave, putting a finger to his lips. “You’re a lucky, lucky girl, Amy, because I believe you. Thousands wouldn’t. Now don’t forget – not a dicky bird, okay?”

When he’d gone, Amy bolted the door and searched the kitchenette for alcohol. Finding a bottle of Snow Mountain vodka, less than a quarter full, she drank all that was left of it and went straight to bed.

Please note there is also a taster story, The Gap, at:

http://aaabbott.co.uk/free-stuff/

About A.A. Abbott

bride's trail

AA Abbott (also known as Helen) chose her pen name in a shameless attempt to slot into the first space on your bookshelf. Born near London, she’s lived in Birmingham and Bristol, and worked in all three cities. She works for big companies for half the year as a tax accountant, taking temporary work so she can spend the rest of the year writing fast-paced crime thrillers. Although her work gives her inspiration, she says none of her colleagues have murdered, blackmailed or defrauded anyone. Hanging out in coffee shops and cocktail bars, she loves city life and can’t resist writing about it.

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Website: http://aaabbott.co.uk/