Category Archives: It Happened in Gastown

It Happened in Gastown (It Happened Book 2)

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).

Progress Report ~ It Happened in Gastown #sweetromance

progress report

Progress Report

I’ve been conspicuously absent from my blog, so I thought it was about time I got my skates on and wrote a post. This one is a progress report on my work-in-progress – It Happened in Gastown.

The book is written. Yay! There could be an epilogue but that can be written and edited separately.

Currently, this episode of the “It Happened” series is longer than the first (It Happened on Dufferin Terrace), but that’s okay. Many series have different length books in them. Harry Potter comes to mind.

It Happened in Gastown has been through Grammarly – copied and pasted from Scrivener one scene at at a time – and corrections made in both applications.

Next, I compiled the entire document to word format (.docx) using Scrivener and imported it to Autocrit. That process wasn’t without its challenges. It seems the version of Safari I’m running on my MacBook Air and Autocrit didn’t like each other. Only a portion of my document loaded. Nothing past chapter 15 and there are 21 chapters in total.

Thanks to Kevin at Autocrit, that problem is sorted and I’m happily editing away using Chrome. Again, I’m making the changes in both applications so if something goes pear-shaped (as things sometimes do), I’ll have an up-to-date copy.

The Office 365 version of Word has the ability to read your manuscript back to you, but since I don’t have that version, I depend on either Scrivener or Natural Reader to do this step for me. The beauty of doing it in Scrivener is the corrections only need to be made once.

Finally, it’s off to my readers who will undoubtedly pick out errors that slipped through the cracks.

My plan is to post a cover reveal at some point during this process with pre-order links for kindle and kobo.

If you would be interested in hosting a cover reveal for It Happened in Gastown, leave a comment and I’ll get back to you with the details.

 

It Happened in Gastown ~ Opening Scene

Here you have it, ladies and gents. The opening scene to Book Two in the It Happened series – It Happened in Gastown. Somewhat darker than the first in the series, but I promise along with the heavy stuff there will be sweet romance.

Out on routine patrol, Constables Hilary Dunbar and her partner Nik Kalivas 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.”

It Happened in Gastown
Steam Clock on Water Street, Gastown, Vancouver

“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 the lane was called 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 was more appropriate.

Gastown
Blood Alley at Cambie Street, Gastown, Vancouver

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 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 further 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, it wasn’t rubbish as Nik 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 pulse beneath her fingertips was barely discernible.

The naloxone. The kit had been made available to officers who wanted it. Nik 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 it 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 if on cue the nearby Steam Clock began whistling. No sense in trying to outperform the thing. Wait until it finished its proclamation of the top of the hour. 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, Nik 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 it at the hospital. Figure out what he shot into his veins.”

Book Two in the “It Happened” Series

Book Two in the It Happened Series is set in Gastown, an area of Vancouver, British Columbia. It’s appropriately titled – It Happened in Gastown.

This book features Erik Layne (Serenity’s brother from It Happened on Dufferin Terrace.) It’s also my project for NaNoWriMo 2018, but life got in the way and I won’t get my 50K words written before the end of the month, but I thought I would share the opening scene.

Keep in mind, this is a first draft and the premise behind NaNo is to write, not edit.

Here it is…

Out on routine patrol, Constables Hilary Dunbar and her partner Nik Kalivas proceeded along Cambie Street towards the Steam Clock. As they passed the end of Blood Alley, she shouted, “Back up. There’s something 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 end of the narrow passage.

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

“Likely just garbage.”

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

Flashlight clutched in her left hand and fingertips of her right brushing her gun holster, she crept towards the object. Graffiti tags covered the walls of the buildings. The further into the confined space she crept, her neck hairs bristled beneath the bun she tied her black hair into. Whatever it was, it wasn’t trash like Nik said. The pong of stale urine brought tears to her eyes.

Past the second dumpster, the body of a young man leaned against the wall. Disheveled and filthy, his body odour was strong enough to make the foulest of skunk spray seem mild. At first glance he appeared dead. Hilary inched forward and squatted beside him. A blood-filled syringe protruded from his left arm. Immediately, she felt his neck for a pulse. It was there but extremely weak.

She keyed the mic on her handset. “Constable Dunbar, Badge 8652. I need an ambulance at Blood Alley and Cambie Street. Suspected drug overdose.”

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

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.

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

They loaded the stretcher into the back, pulled a U-turn and raced off in the direction of Vancouver General.

“Looks like we’re off to the hospital,” she said dropping into her seat and fastening the belt.

“Great. More wasted time and a ton of paperwork because of a drug addict,” Nik complained.

“That drug addict is someone’s kid,” she snapped.

“Ooh… aren’t we touchy? Turning soft are you? Biological clock ticking?”

I’d love to hear what you think. Let me know by leaving a comment.