9 Oct 2017

Book Review / The Storyteller by Jodi Picoult


What do you do when evil lives next door? Can someone who's committed a truly heinous act ever atone for it with subsequent good behavior? Should you offer forgiveness to someone if you aren't the party who was wronged? And most of all - if Sage even considers his request - is it murder, or justice?

Sage Singer befriends an old man who's particularly beloved in her community. Josef Weber is everyone's favorite retired teacher and Little League coach. They strike up a friendship at the bakery where Sage works. One day he asks Sage for a favor: to kill him. Shocked, Sage refuses…and then he confesses his darkest secret - he deserves to die, because he was a Nazi SS guard. Complicating the matter? Sage's grandmother is a Holocaust survivor.


Published:     26th March 2013
Publisher:  Hodder & Stoughton
Goodreads :  Click here
Series or Stand-Alone:  Stand-Alone
Source:  Owned



MY REVIEW

What I liked about this story...  Now this was a very interesting read.  The one thing I have always loved about Jodi Picoult is that no matter what book of hers you pick up you know that by the end of the very last page you are going to have a question in your mind.  What side of the fence do you sit?  There is always an underlying moral question in each of her books where you are asked to 'pick a side'?  With The Storyteller we follow Sage who meets and becomes friends with Josef, an older guy has a very big secret.   You have Josef who was a Nazi and is asking to die and then you have Sage who is Jewish and whose grandmother was a Holocaust survivor.  Right from the start I knew which side of the fence I was on.  This story tested me in places but ultimately I did not change my mind. 

What I didn't like about this story...   The ending.  I didn't agree with the ending.  The choice that Sage made I believed was a mistake. Despite that, this book was amazing.








Blog Tour Book Extract / Christmas at the Log Fire Cabin by Catherine Ferguson


Curl up by the fire this Christmas with the ebook bestseller Catherine Ferguson. 
 
When Poppy’s boyfriend Martin proposes the week before Christmas, she doesn’t know what to do. It’s not that she doesn’t love him… it’s just that she has her doubts. But with the twelve days of Christmas to decide, time is running out.

Meanwhile, her best friend Taylor is desperate for the pair of them to fulfil their dream of setting up a dinner party catering company – and when an opportunity arises at a luxury log-fire cabin, the girls take their chance to impress. But they hadn’t bargained on the owner of the lodge being quite so attractive – and having quite such a sexy voice. As the twelve days tick on, will Poppy realise that Martin is the one for her? Or will it be love in the lodge when the new year comes?





EXTRACT


Before long, I hear a tiny snorting noise and turn to see Harrison’s head is thrown back. His mouth is open and he’s snoring gently. I nudge him and whisper, ‘Time for bed?’

He comes to and gives a huge yawn. ‘Yes. Bed,’ he agrees, standing up and holding out his hand to me.


‘You go. I’ll be up in a minute,’ I tell him.
‘Okay, Puss. Don’t be long.’
 ‘Mrs Morelli was really pleased,’ I tell him as he heads for the door.
 ‘Who?’
‘Mrs Morelli – you know, the woman I cooked for.’
‘Oh. Yes, of course. Well, that’s brilliant.’
I smile excitedly. ‘I know. It couldn’t have gone any better, really, despite the problem I had with the terrible cut of meat. I ended up having to slow cook—’

His phone buzzes with a message.

‘Sorry, Puss.’ He glances at me apologetically and wanders out, studying his text. ‘You can tell me all about it in the morning,’ he calls from halfway up the stairs.

I sit there, staring at the blank screen of the TV. After all the excitement of the night, it would have been lovely if Harrison had wanted to toast my success
.
No wonder I’m feeling a bit deflated.

*

Next morning, I’m making toast while Harrison does his morning vanishing act behind The Financial Times, when the landline rings.

I dive on the phone, assuming it’s Erin calling to see how I’m feeling after last night.

It’s a man’s voice.
‘Hi, Poppy. I hope you don’t mind me phoning, but I was just wondering how last night went?’
For a second, I’m thrown. But not for long. That deep voice with a hint of gravel is unmistakeable.
‘It’s Jed. The total stranger who invited you for Christmas by mistake?’
‘Jed. Hi. Um – it went brilliantly, thanks.
‘Was the customer happy?’
I smile. ‘She was over the moon and her guests couldn’t stop complimenting the tiramisu.’
There’s a rustle as Harrison pops his head round the newspaper and gives me a ‘who’s that?’ look.
‘Sorry, I’ve got to go,’ I tell Jed. ‘But thanks so much for calling.’
‘No problem. I’m just glad it went well. Have you got a name for the business, by the way?’
‘Well, not really. Although, my friend Erin thinks she’s come up with a corker.’
‘Which is?’
I close my eyes and smile as I say it. ‘Diner Might.’
There’s a brief silence, then the sound of hearty laughter. ‘Diner Might. Dynamite. I like it. Although maybe not quite the sophistication you’re aiming for?’
‘That’s just what I thought. Any suggestions gratefully received.’
‘Right, I’m on it.’
‘Is Clemmy coming for Christmas?’ I ask on impulse, not caring that Harrison is listening.
‘Yes, she is.’ Jed sounds surprised that I should ask. ‘I’m meeting her when I get off the train at Easingwold on the nineteenth.’
‘The two p.m. train?’ I smile, recalling how adamant he was about leaving London promptly for the holidays.

He gives a throaty chuckle. ‘On the dot. She’s cut off her long red hair, apparently, so I’ve told her she has to wear a carnation otherwise I might not recognise the new sophisticated Clemmy.’
I laugh, feeling the tiniest bit deflated, which is strange. Although, on reflection, it’s probably because, while Jed and Clemmy will be enjoying their Christmas together, Harrison will be away in Spain and it’ll just be me and Mum rubbing along together

8 Oct 2017

Blog Tour Book Extract / A Seaside Escape by Lisa Hobman

All work and no love can make for a dull life. But cupid's arrow has a habit of striking when you least expect it... A heartwarming, feel-good romance to curl up with this winter. Perfect for the fans of Marian Keyes and Veronica Henry.
Mallory Westerman is the successful proprietor of
Le Petit Cadeau, a gift shop extraordinaire in thriving Leeds.

Concentrating solely on her business, she has almost given up on finding someone to love. That is until she literally falls into the arms of a handsome, intriguing stranger who becomes her Knight in shining armour.

The whirlwind romance that ensues changes her life-path irrevocably. However, the road to true love is never smooth and things don't always turn out how you expect...

*Shortlisted for the RNA Contemporary Romantic Novel of the Year 2014*


This book was previously published as
A Bridge Over The Atlantic.


Available on NetGalley: http://bit.ly/2xzTo3V

Buy links:
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2wLsnpS

Follow Aria

Twitter: @aria_fiction
Facebook: @ariafiction
Instagram: @ariafiction


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lisa’s debut novel was shortlisted in the 2014 RNA. Her stories centre around believable, yet down to earth characters and the places in Scotland she has visited and fallen in love with. She is a happily married mum of one with two energetic dogs.

Follow Lisa

Twitter: @LisaJHobmanAuth




 

CHAPTER FOUR - EXTRACT

Mallory sat stoic whilst people dressed in black fussed all around her. She loved that people cared, but she just wanted them to all just sod off and leave her alone. She hadn’t cried yet. She’d just felt completely numb. The ache inside her had been replaced with a strange feeling of… nothingness. People talked about her whilst she sat; as if she had suddenly become invisible. Does she want a cup of tea? Should she have a lie-down? Has she cried yet? Do you think she’ll move back to Yorkshire? It irritated her, but she hadn’t the energy to fight.
Mallory kept replaying the Police Officer’s words repeatedly in her mind. ‘We’re so sorry, Miss Westerman, they couldn’t revive him, they tried, but the injuries from the crash were just too severe. Is there anyone you’d like us to call?’
As soon as they had found out, Renee and Ryan had flown straight over to be with Mallory. Cara had to stay home with their baby boy, Dylan. They had all been amazing, but due to the absence of Sam’s family in the UK, initially, Mallory had been the one asked to identify his body. The image just wouldn’t leave her, it was etched on her cerebral cortex like a horrific tattoo; irreversible; a permanent fixture for her memory amongst all the happiness she’d had up to then. The experience had left her feeling almost anaesthetised.
There had been a discussion about funeral arrangements. Mallory had felt she had no right to even join in the conversation, after all she was only his fiancée; they were his family. Much to her surprise they had decided that Sam should be cremated and the service held near their new home. Renee and Ryan felt that Sam would have wanted that if he’d had the chance to decide for himself. Plus, they added, Mallory needed Sam to be near her. She should choose what to do with the ashes. After all, Mallory would not be returning to Yorkshire. There was nothing to go back for. Aside, that is, from her business and two best friends.
Mallory couldn’t express her overwhelming gratitude for the kindness of the Buchanans. She couldn’t really express anything. But she did thank them with a silent hug. Both Ryan and his mom had cried; Mallory had not. Ryan had felt responsible and had apologised over and over, If only I hadn’t asked for his help… if only he had followed Mallory as planned… if only. Mallory had assured him as best she could that she didn’t blame him. What was the point?
The cremation service had been lovely; if that’s even a possibility for cremations. People had come from far and wide to pay their respects. She had sat and listened as people eulogised about her fiancé. Their words had been so kind. She had been asked if she wanted to say anything at the funeral, but she couldn’t even attempt to muster up the words to express her feelings of anger, loss, emptiness and most of all sadness.
She thought about what Ryan had said and about his apologies. She wanted to go back; to make Sam not go into work on that day. Maybe Ryan was right? Maybe then he would still be alive. If he had followed her instead, maybe that lorry driver would not have lost control on the narrow, rain-covered road by Loch Lomond. When she had, for a couple of moments yesterday, been granted a little bit of mobile signal, a voicemail had come through, so very cruelly. She had played the message over and over again…
‘It’s me my little Yorkshire puddin’! I’ve just left work… it’s about… aaahhh… noon… you must be driving or something… anyways, I’ll be on my way in the next hour… I am sooo excited, baby! You, me and Rubes will have the best time, you’ll see! The BEST!! I love you more than life, I hope you know that and I’m so sorry about today. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Don’t go “chasing cars” ‘til I get there, okay babe? See you soon! Love you.’
Each time she played it she could pretend he was still alive. She could pretend he was just at the other end of the line. It comforted her to hear his voice; the voice of the funny, loving, kind, sexy man who had come into her life and given her so much – loved her so much. How could that be over? It just didn’t seem real. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t cry.
She remembered what Sam had said about his uncle’s funeral which had taken place shortly before they met. He had hated how sombre the whole affair was. A total contrast to his father’s apparently. They stood in the church whilst the choir sang ‘Abide with Me’ and Sam had admitted to fidgeting uncomfortably.
On the day he had told her about it he’d said, ‘If anything happens to me I want you to promise me you’ll make sure that people wear bright colours, get drunk and laugh about the good times!’
She had whacked him. ‘Shhh! I’m not going to talk about you dying. You’re not allowed to die,’ she had informed him, feeling rather cross that he had brought it up.
‘I’m just saying, I think it’s sad when people die and all, but you have to try to remember the happy times.’ He had squeezed her hand and, understanding what he meant, she had squeezed his too. At the time it had been something she didn’t even need to consider, let alone want to think about. It had therefore been pushed to the very recesses of her mind for a time when they were old and grey – or so she had thought.
Back in her new reality, people gradually said their goodbyes until only Renee, Ryan, Brad and Josie remained. The scent of fresh flowers filled the whitewashed lounge of her cottage. Her cottage. Funny how in such a short space of time the plural had become singular.






6 Oct 2017

Book Extract / Blog Tour - The Little Bakery on Rosemary Lane by Ellen Berry



**Take a trip to the Yorkshire village of Burley Bridge, where a new arrival is going to shake things up…**
Growing up in a quiet Yorkshire village, Roxanne couldn’t wait to escape and find her place in the world in London. As a high-powered fashion editor she lives a glamorous life of perennial singlehood – or so it seems to her sister Della. But when Roxanne gets her heart broken by a fashion photographer, she runs away, back to Della’s welcoming home above her bookshop in Burley Bridge.
But Burley Bridge, Roxanne discovers, is even quieter than she remembered. There’s nothing to do, so Roxanne agrees to walk Della’s dog Stanley. It’s on these walks that Roxanne makes a startling discovery: the people who live in Burley Bridge are, well, just people – different from the fashion set she’s used to, but kind and even interesting. Michael, a widower trying to make a go of a small bakery, particularly so. Little by little, cupcake by cupcake, Roxanne and Michael fall into a comforting friendship.
Could there be a life for Roxanne after all, in the place she’s spent 46 years trying to escape?



Extract Nineteen from Chapter Six, pp 75-76

Further down on the steps, a couple of models were smoking. Usually, Roxanne didn’t mind the smell of cigarettes. She had been a smoker herself until she had finally managed to quit last year, after visiting Della and feeling like an idiot, puffing away on the pavement outside her bookshop with virtually every passer-by stopping to say hi. But now, as the girls’ cigarette smoke plumed upwards, she felt queasy. She looked out again over the city she had loved with a passion since she had arrived here at eighteen years old, and felt nausea rise in her.

Back in the studio, she scanned the vicinity for Marsha and Tina, keen to avoid bumping into them. They were nowhere to be seen. A waiter glided towards her with a tray laden with more glasses of champagne. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, knowing it was the last thing she needed, but since when was champagne about need?

As she took a sip, a familiar voice floated above the hubbub: ‘Yep, Roxanne’s definitely here. I spotted her dancing like a nutter a few minutes ago.’ That was Marsha – and what did she mean by that? Roxanne whipped around to see her, still with Tina at her side, turned partly away and facing the seafood bar. A fresh wave of nausea rose in her stomach, and for a moment she feared she might be sick.

‘I thought she might not turn up tonight after your big announcement,’ Tina replied.

‘Of course she has,’ Marsha retorted. ‘You do know she’s seeing Sean, don’t you?’

‘You’re kidding!’ Tina gasped, still clearly not registering her presence.

‘No – honestly, they’re a couple. Everyone thought it’d just be a fling, ’cause you know what he’s like . . .’

‘Oh God, yeah,’ Tina murmured. 

‘But apparently those days are over,’ Marsha crowed. ‘They’ve been together a while now . . .’
Roxanne’s throat felt dry and sour. Fuzzy with booze, she felt incapable of confronting them or even wobbling over to talk to them and making any sort of sense. What was Sean like exactly? What the hell was she implying? Sure, he’d dated plenty of women during the lengthy periods between his serious relationships – but there was nothing wrong with that, and she’d never heard that he’d treated anyone badly. She frowned, trying to fathom out what Marsha and Tina had meant. Of course, the fashion business was rife with gossip, most of it widely overblown or patently untrue.

Roxanne sipped from her glass, feeling quite desolate now after having her dancing and her boyfriend criticised, virtually in a single breath. Kate was waving from the dance floor, trying to coax her to join them. However, Roxanne wasn’t really registering her.

‘I thought everyone knew about them,’ Marsha added.

‘Everyone apart from me, obviously,’ Tina exclaimed with a high-pitched laugh. ‘Always last with the gossip. God, though – Sean and Roxanne Cartwright? That’s hysterical . . .’

Roxanne stood for a moment, clutching her glass which she might once have termed half-full but was now most definitely half-empty. She turned away and placed it on a windowsill. However, being made from uneven bricks, the windowsill was too wonky a surface for the glass to rest on without toppling. Topple it did, landing with a smash on the concrete floor, causing a momentary hush as Roxanne turned and ran out of the room.



5 Oct 2017

Book Review / Girl in the Woods by Jennifer McMahon


"The New York Times" bestselling author of the acclaimed "Island of Lost Girls" and "Promise Not to Tell" returns with a chilling novel in which the secrets of the past come back to haunt a group of friends in terrifying ways.

Dismantlement = Freedom

Henry, Tess, Winnie, and Suz banded together in college to form a group they called the Compassionate Dismantlers. Following the first rule of their manifesto--"To understand the nature of a thing, it must be taken apart"--these daring misfits spend the summer after graduation in a remote cabin in the Vermont woods committing acts of meaningful vandalism and plotting elaborate, often dangerous, pranks. But everything changes when one particularly twisted experiment ends in Suz's death and the others decide to cover it up.

Nearly a decade later, Henry and Tess are living just an hour's drive from the old cabin. Each is desperate to move on from the summer of the Dismantlers, but their guilt isn't ready to let them go. When a victim of their past pranks commits suicide--apparently triggered by a mysterious Dismantler-style postcard--it sets off a chain of eerie events that threatens to engulf Henry, Tess, and their inquisitive nine-year-old daughter, Emma.

Is there someone who wants to reveal their secrets? Is it possible that Suz did not really die--or has she somehow found a way back to seek revenge?

Full of white-knuckle tension with deeply human characters caught in circumstances beyond their control, Jennifer McMahon's gripping story and spine-tingling plot prove that she is a master at weaving the fear of the supernatural with the stark realities of life.


Published:     2009
Publisher:  Little Brown
Goodreads :  Click here
Series or Stand-Alone:  Stand-Alone
Source:  Library



MY REVIEW

What I liked about this story...  I just could not put this down.  At 423 pages, I knew that I would not be able to read this in one sitting but I try, really hard!  The one thing that I am really loving about Jennifer McMahon's writing is that sense of creepiness and a sense of the paranormal or something not quite right.  In this story, we follow Henry and Tess all grown up with a kid of their own.  They seem like a normal family but there's a lot more to this couple than meets the eye.  They certainly have a past that they would prefer to keep hidden but someone or something has other plans about that.  All the trouble starts when their daughter discovers a box of old things and leans about the Compassionate Dismantlers.  Not knowing how bad it would turn out to be, she decides to try and make her parents happy again by sending invitations to those who were part of the Compassionate Dismantlers.   There are quite a few twists and turns in this story that kept me hooked right until the very last page!

 In summary...  A very creepy book with a lot of twists and turns to keep you wanting to read more.  If you love thrillers, you need to pick up this book!





1 Oct 2017

Book Review / Cars, Coffee and a Badass Ninja Toilet by KC Hilton


If you deal with customers day after day who drive you insane, give you reasons to drink alcohol, or make you want to quit your job, this book is definitely for you.

A chaotic and hilarious portrait of a used car lot owner, Julia Karr. Her feisty attitude and fearless approach to managing a business, how it affects her home life and dealings with customers will have you scratching your head about humanity.

Seeing the business world through Julia's jaded eyes may convince you that owning a business isn't what it’s cracked up to be. Her attitude is drenched with sarcasm and dipped in crazy sauce. She blames the car lot.

Published:     1st September 2017
Goodreads :  Click here
Series or Stand-Alone:  Book 1, Julia Karr

Source:  Review Copy from Author



MY REVIEW

I have always been a big fan of KC Hilton.  The House at Finkleton series and 90 Miles to Freedom were books that I have previously read and enjoyed.   I hadn't realised how stressful working at a car lot could be so stressful.  I found this book to be very funny in places and really enjoyed following the main character, Julia, as she meets every type of customer possible, even ones that try to steal a car!   If I was being critical, I would have loved to have a lot less stress in the story, which made me anxious alongside the main character, and a bit more fun.  I am definitely intrigued to find out more in this series.






30 Sept 2017

Blog Tour Book Extract / Zero Avenue by Dietrich Kalteis

About the book:

Set to the cranking beat and amphetamine buzz of Vancouver’s early punk scene, Zero Avenue follows Frankie Del Rey, a talented and rising punk star who runs just enough dope on the side to pay the bills and keep her band, Waves of Nausea, together. The trouble is she’s running it for Marty Sayles, a powerful drug dealer who controls the Eastside with a fist.
When Frankie strikes up a relationship with Johnny Falco, the owner of one of the only Vancouver clubs willing to give punk a chance, she finds out he’s having his own money problems just keeping Falco’s Nest open. Desperate to keep his club, Johnny raids one of the pot fields Marty Sayles has growing out past Surrey, along Zero Avenue on the U.S. border. He gets away with a pickup load and pays back everybody he owes. Arnie Binz, bass player for Waves of Nausea, finds out about it and decides that was easy enough. But he gets caught by Marty’s crew.
Johnny and Frankie set out to find the missing Arnie, but Marty Sayles is pissed and looking for who ripped off his other field — a trail that leads to Johnny and Frankie.
About the author:

Dietrich Kalteis is the award-winning author of Ride the Lightning, The Deadbeat Club, Triggerfish, House of Blazes and Zero Avenue. Nearly fifty of his short stories have been published internationally, and he lives with his family in West Vancouver, British Columbia.

Social networking links:
Website: http://dietrichkalteis.blogspot.ca/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dietrich.kalteis/
Twitter: @dietrichkalteis

Available:
October 3

Buy links:

Chapter 2 Excerpt
[Frankie] walked in, Falco’s Nest open to the indie music scene. Johnny Falco being the second club owner with the balls to do it. Most venues around town treated punk like taboo: pogo dancing leading to underaged drinking, leading to drunken fist fights, leading to police raids and shutdowns.
Johnny moved here from back east, got to know the punk scene in Toronto, told her about living in the Lawrence Hotel, rooms like two bucks and change a night, a Sabbath cover band called Never Say Die stayed down the hall, the band living on potatoes and soup packets. Getting to know them while bowling with empty ketchup and beer bottles in the hall, driving the landlord crazy.
She loved hearing Johnny tell about the Toronto scene: the Viletones, the Demics. Bands like the Diodes, Cardboard Brains and Teenage Head out of Hamilton, venues like Larry’s Hideaway on Carlton. Johnny saying he wished he’d been on the coast to catch the Furies before they split up, loved their sound, getting out here a couple years too late.
Photos were tacked up behind the bar: him standing arm in arm with Frankie Venom, another one of him and Daniel Rey, producer for the Ramones, one with Carole Pope out front of the Concert Hall.
Lachman over at the Buddha was first to do it in Vancouver, bringing the sound to town. The Young Canadians, still called the K-Tels back then, put on a hell of a show, followed by the Subhumans. The Buddha had been packed ever since, Lachman still trying to live down the night he kicked out Hendrix, back in the club’s R&B days a decade earlier, Lachman telling anybody who’d listen the guy just played too loud.
Falco’s Nest had been catching the Buddha’s overflow since opening its doors eight months back. Johnny usually short on cash, but long on ideas, showcasing new talent, giving bands a chance to jump off the hamster wheel of shit gigs available to them. The local papers called both clubs a spawning ground for a new terrorism on the sensibilities, but Vancouver’s punk scene didn’t read the dailies — fans flocking from as far as Mission, giving the “No Fun City” image a good shake.
Not sure who Johnny had booked in tonight, she walked by the posters plastered across the storefront window. Hoping to duck Marty till later, she’d come to hear some music, have a beer with Johnny then drop in at the Buddha, catch some of D.O.A.’s second set. The guys sometimes letting her sit in. Her Flying V locked in the trunk, just in case.
She stepped into the warmth and the smoke.

Excerpted from Zero Avenue by Dietrich Kalteis. © 2017 by Dietrich Kalteis. All rights reserved. Published by ECW Press Ltd. www.ecwpress.com


27 Sept 2017

Book Review / Promise Not to Tell by Jennifer McMahon


Forty-one-year-old school nurse Kate Cypher has returned home to rural Vermont to care for her mother who's afflicted with Alzheimer's. On the night she arrives, a young girl is murdered—a horrific crime that eerily mirrors another from Kate's childhood. Three decades earlier, her dirt-poor friend Del—shunned and derided by classmates as "Potato Girl"—was brutally slain. Del's killer was never found, while the victim has since achieved immortality in local legends and ghost stories. Now, as this new murder investigation draws Kate irresistibly in, her past and present collide in terrifying, unexpected ways. Because nothing is quite what it seems . . . and the grim specters of her youth are far from forgotten.

More than just a murder mystery, Jennifer McMahon's extraordinary debut novel, Promise Not to Tell, is a story of friendship and family, devotion and betrayal—tautly written, deeply insightful, beautifully evocative, and utterly unforgettable.

Published:     10th April 2007
Publisher:  William Morrow
Goodreads :  Click here
Series or Stand-Alone:  Stand-Alone
Source:  Library



MY REVIEW

I hereby declare that Jennifer McMahon has been added to my list of favourite authors of all time - and I have only read one of her books so far!!!!  I just could not put this one down.  Initially, when picking this book up I thought it was going to be a thriller, a whodoneit or maybe a chase to catch the killer.  Yes, this is a thriller but it is so much more than that.

This story is split between the past and the present.  You have Kate, the main character who is returning home to care for her ill mother.  On her return, a girl is murdered.  You would think this is disturbing enough but this is not the first time Kate has experienced a death.  In the past, three decades earlier, we see her story when she was a child where she makes friends with the 'potato girl'.  With those two stories running alongside each other, I very much had the sense of something else going on.  Maybe something paranormal?

I adored this book.  If I had to catagorise this I would call it a haunting suspense with quite a few plot twists to keep you on your toes.  Very creepy but addicting!!!  Can't wait to read more from this author.



25 Sept 2017

Book Review / See How They Lie by Sue Wallman


All’s not well at the Hummingbird Creek wellness resort. No one can see in. No one can get out…
New from the talented author who brought you Lying About Last Summer: a psycho-chiller to wake up your darkest phobias. If you got to live in a luxury hotel with world-class cuisine, a state-of-the-art sports centre and the latest spa treatments, would you say ‘yes please’? 


Well, that’s kind of what Hummingbird Creek is like. No wonder Mae feels lucky to be there. It’s meant as a rich-kid’s sanatorium, but she isn’t sick. Her dad is the top psychiatrist there. But one day Mae breaks a rule. NOT a good idea. This place is all about rules – and breaking them can hurt you…


Published:     2nd March 2017
Publisher:  Scholastic
Goodreads :  Click here
Series or Stand-Alone:  Stand-Alone
Source:  Library




MY REVIEW

What I liked about this story...  In this story we follow the main character Mae who lives at Hummingbird Creek, which is a 'wellness report'.  Where parents send their troubled kids to get better.  There is a lot more to this wellness report then meets the eye.  It was the twists and turns in this story that won it over for me.  Just when I thought something had happened and someone was responsible that may have not been the case.  I was truly surprised by the ending, something I definitely was not expecting!   I also found this book be very creepy which was excellent considering I read this in the evenings!  This is very much a who's who type of book.   I was always guessing who was the 'baddies' and who were the 'goodies', sometimes guessing right and sometimes guessing wrong. 


In summary...   A very intriguing thriller that certainly has a few twists and turns.  I would highly recommend this book but it is definitely best to go into this book not knowing a great deal more than the book synopsis.






24 Sept 2017

Blog Tour Book Extract / Hope to Die by David Jackson


When the victim seems perfect, is it the perfect crime? The gripping new serial killer thriller, from the runaway bestselling author of CRY BABY.

On a snowy December evening, Mary Cowper is walking her dog through the churchyard of Liverpool Cathedral - and that's when the killer strikes.

Put on the case, DS Nathan Cody is quickly stumped. Wherever he digs, Mary seems to be almost angelic - no-one has a bad word to say about her, let alone a motive for such a violent murder.

And Cody has other things on his mind too. The ghosts of his past are coming ever close, and - still bearing the physical and mental scars - it's all he can do to hold onto his sanity.

And then the killer strikes again . . .




EXTRACT


Cody walks home. His car is still at the station on Stanley Road, but he decides there’s no point in going all the way over there just to drive it back again. He’ll get a taxi to work in the morning.
The snow falls much more lightly now, but is still crisp underfoot. Rodney Street is eerily calm and still. Frozen in a past century. It is not hard to imagine this night as a Georgian Christmas Eve, or something straight from the pen of Dickens. To picture huge wreaths on each of these glossy doors. And, inside, wealthy parents drinking nightcaps as they joyfully fill their children’s stockings and prepare for the festivities and excesses of the following day.
And then Cody gets to his own building, his own door. He stares at the brass knocker and sees it mutate into the angry, despairing face of Jacob Marley’s ghost. In Cody’s head the carol-singing fades, and the mournful moaning starts up. And it’s with a heart as heavy as lead that he takes out his key and lets himself in.
Inside, he listens to the whispers and the creaks and the tiny scrabbling noises of the building and its unseen inhabitants, and he wonders how much of it is real and how much is conjured up by his fevered brain.
Because, yes, his mind isn’t as well as it should be. He’s got problems, and he accepts that. But there’s hope now. Light at the end of that long, sanity-constricting tunnel.
He moves through the hallway. Past the doors to the dental reception area and the surgeries. They are closed now. Locked up tight. The doors keep hidden the instruments of torture, the memories of pain and decay. The smells linger, though. Those nauseating antiseptic odours that are always associated with places of healthcare.
At the bottom of the stairs he pauses, as he often does. He considers going right to the end of the hallway, to that door behind the stairs. The door he fears most. It leads down to the cellar. It’s always locked at night, and he doesn’t know why it frightens him so much, but it does. Sometimes he stands with his ear against that door, listening for whatever might lurk on the other side. And sometimes he is convinced he hears things. Scratches and groans and possibly even murmurs. He tells himself that it is mice or the boiler or the wind finding its way through the grates. But he’s never fully convinced.
Tonight he decides against that particular episode of self-amusement, and heads straight up the stairs. At the first turning he glances out of the curtain-free window. The snow in the walled rear yard is pristine, untouched.
Except . . . Are those footprints? There, leading towards the yard door. No. Can’t be. Just a trick of the light.
On the first floor he passes more locked doors onto abandoned surgeries, then stops at his own. He finds his keys on the dimly-lit landing, then unlocks the door with a clatter that reminds him of the chains shackling another of the ghosts that confronted Ebenezer Scrooge.
‘Bah, humbug,’ he mutters to himself, then smiles and pulls open the door, wincing as its hinges squeal in complaint.
He locks the door behind him. Ascends another set of stairs to his flat on the top floor. Instantly he feels more relaxed. The world outside is closed off. He can be himself, with all the things both good and bad that it entails.
It is late and he is exhausted and he needs sleep. But he also knows that sleep will elude him for a while yet. His mind is too occupied.
For one thing, the current case has gripped the analytical centre of his brain and refuses to let go. The figure of Mary Cowper he has floating around in there seems a bit like Mary Poppins, drifting with the breeze as she clutches her umbrella. Was she really that goody-two-shoes? Or was there a much darker side to the woman, yet to be discovered?


22 Sept 2017

Author Interview / Ray Britain






Accused of pushing a boy to his death, DCI Doug Stirling watches helplessly as an incompetent officer bent on destroying him investigates. 

A man is found savagely murdered. Short of experienced investigators, ACC Steph Tanner risks her own career by appointing Stirling to lead the investigation. But, haunted by the boy's smile as he let go of his hand, does Stirling still have what it takes?








INTERVIEW WITH THE AUTHOR


So, who is Ray Britain?
A fair question. I was a police officer in the United Kingdom with a varied career in both uniform and detective roles and completed my career in a high rank, but the investigation of crime and the camaraderie amongst detectives always remained my preference. As a Senior Investigating Officer (SIO) I led complex crime investigations, some of which engaged discreet national capabilities and for many years I was also police Negotiator.

Okay, so why the pen name?
For reasons of personal and family security I use a pen name because, over the years, I locked up many criminals, some violent. However, not all of them understood it was their actions that led to their imprisonment! Also, in my senior ranks I was increasingly involved in discreet, national law enforcement capabilities which I can’t discuss as the Official Secrets Act still applies.

You were a police hostage negotiator?
Yes, for fourteen years. The full title is Hostage & Crisis Intervention Negotiator and in the UK it’s a voluntary role, over and above the ‘day job’ - one’s day to day responsibilities - which frequently means being ‘called out’ of a warm bed to go and assist police colleagues faced with a variety of difficult situations.

For example?
That’s one of the attractions of the role, you never know what your next deployment might be. Often, it’s negotiating with someone to surrender peacefully to armed officers and so avoid being killed or harmed themselves. But more often it was to negotiate with people intent on taking their own lives, usually highly distressed and unable to think or act rationally, and bring them back to safety. Sometimes, it was to negotiate the release of hostages being held at gunpoint or other weapons. It should be remembered that in the UK, except for a relatively small number of exceptionally highly trained specialist firearms officers, police officers perform their duties unarmed. One of the few countries in the world still to do so.

How long were you in the police for, and where?
For over thirty years in the Midlands region of the UK - Police services are typically based on traditional county lines. The Last Thread is set in and around the city of Worcester and future books are likely to be set either within the county or in neighbouring areas, as the storyline requires.

Why did you write ‘The Last Thread’?
I’ve always wanted to write a book and the common advice is to stick with what you know. There were other reasons too. As a professional investigator, I’m often frustrated by the inaccurate and improbable representation of crime investigation in the many television dramas that enter our homes each evening. Whatever the complexity of the crime, they are almost always solved within impossible time frames and with the most sophisticated technology immediately available. It provides entertainment, of course, but it’s far from the reality of everyday investigations. Consequently, it raises public expectation beyond what is always achievable. Like all aspects of the public sector, the police service is cash strapped and must operate within tight, and tightening budgets.

How accurate is your story to real investigations?
Very! From the need to work with limited resources, often with dated equipment and in accommodation that’s often cramped, inadequate or well past it’s ‘best by’ date, right down to aspects of internal and external political pressures that any SIO can expect to work with in leading his or her investigation.

What was the best and worst part of writing?
The best part is getting the story out of my head and onto the page, plotting its twists and turns and the red herrings to make it interesting for the reader. The worst bit is editing and proof reading! However, it does lead to a better story and allows me to strip out irrelevant stuff and, I hope, make for a better read.

How did you approach the cover design?
I wanted something that was a bit moody and hinted at the underlying sinister theme of the story line and subsequent investigation. I found a local photographer I could work with and, together, we constructed the image you see. I hope you like it as much as I do.

What do you read for pleasure?
I like good crime fiction that reflects real world and is grounded in reality. Some plots are so fantastical that I don't complete the book. I like biographies too. Other people's lives interest me.

What is your e-reading device of choice?
Kindle.

What's the story behind your latest book?
Everything I've written is drawn from my professional experience, or as observed through the investigations of colleagues. Apart from drawing on memories of my Father, my characters are all fictitious but they are informed by some of the people I've had the privilege to work alongside over the years.

Where can I buy your book?
I plan to publish ‘The Last Thread’ as an eBook on Sunday 1st October on Amazon (ISBN 978-1-9998122-0-1) and, hopefully, there will be a paperback version too. I’m also looking at publishing on Smashwords but there’s a lot to learn about the Indie author process!

What are you working on next?
I have several story lines and plots mind-mapped and will resume writing once I’ve got ‘The Last Thread’ out to market. As an Indie author, I’ve found there’s a lot of work involved in getting your work published to market and then in marketing your brand. Having said that, I’m finding it a fascinating experience.

Describe your desk
An organised mess!

What motivated you to become an indie author?
The ease of getting your work out there, rather than writing off to mainstream publishers. But, there's a hell of a lot of work after that in getting yourself noticed!

If you could work with any other author, who would it be and why?
Hmm, that’s a tough one. I’m not sure. I admire the work of Sebastian Faulks very much and have read a lot of his work. He has an insightful mind and builds his characters extremely well. 
 
What would be a typical working day for you? When and where do you write?
Having led a very ‘structured’ working life I get fidgety if I’ve nothing to do. Consequently, I treat writing, to a point, as my ‘job’. I start early(ish) in the morning and keep going until I’ve had enough, or my eyes demand a break. Usually to go to the gym where I can ease off cramped muscles, think, and keep mortality at bay!

What am I reading now?
I’m reading a travelogue style book, ‘Why the Dutch are Different’ by Ben Coates. It’s a slightly sideways look at the Dutch, their history and culture and is interesting. I love history.

Website: http://www.raybritain.com/
Twitter: @ray_britain
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