M.A. Comley's Blog, page 21
August 28, 2011
Bargain Blowout Weekend
*** SEPTEMBER 2 – 5 ONLY ***
The first ever INDIE BOOK BLOWOUT – To celebrate this exciting event, I've reduced the price on my book to only 99¢!
Yes, it's a weekend to remember!
To score dozens of FANTASTIC indie books for only 99¢, visit indiebookblowout.com. While you're there, register to win a brand new Kindle & up to $ 100 in Gift Cards (entry form on the site). You can purchase Impeding Justice for only 99cents or 49pence here. Amazon US Amazon Uk
Published on August 28, 2011 01:54
August 20, 2011
Well I've just released my new romance!
Find out more about A Time to Heal on my romance blog. There's even a chance to win a free ebook too.
http://melcomleyromances.blogspot.com/
Fingers crossed the romances (more due in a few months) sell as well as the thrillers have.
;-)
http://melcomleyromances.blogspot.com/

Fingers crossed the romances (more due in a few months) sell as well as the thrillers have.
;-)
Published on August 20, 2011 03:15
August 15, 2011
#Blogfest
As part of #100Blogfest it's my pleasure to invite Martin King to my blog.
Standby for action! So what do you remember when you were a kid? I guess no childhood memory would be complete without your favourite TV characters. Now I'm not talking you regular ones, we are talking puppets, although to be fair you probably didn't know that at the time.Five... Now as you will no doubt already realise by now, I am from England. But you Americans have got a couple of puppets that were imported overseas. The Muppet Show! That's right we got the likes Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy. Then there was Animal and Gonzo, Fuzzy Bear... in fact the list goes on of a great characters. It was just a brilliant show.Four... Just as big in cult status, but perhaps not as popular in its day due to only being shown during the day, we have Sesame Street. I don't remember too much about it other than the Cookie monster, Burt and Ernie and of course the count. But I'm sure you will remember a lot of the others. Oh yea I've just remembered Big Bird.Three... Over here we had the fantastic Rainbow with such heroes as George, Bungle and Zippy. Going back further in time we had Bill and Ben the flowerpot men or Andy Pandy, Joe 90 and Captain Scarlet.Two... Then there was Sooty and Sweep, Basil Brush and Roland Rat. Or what about Rod Hull and Emu? One... Thunderbirds are go!!! The greatest ever puppet creation in the world, ever –Thunderbirds.I could go on and on about these and many other children's greats. But the question is who do you remember?These blogs are all about fun and sharing. Thank you for reading a '#100blogfest' blog. Please follow this link to find the next blog in the series: http://martinkingauthor.com/blog/7094550076
Standby for action! So what do you remember when you were a kid? I guess no childhood memory would be complete without your favourite TV characters. Now I'm not talking you regular ones, we are talking puppets, although to be fair you probably didn't know that at the time.Five... Now as you will no doubt already realise by now, I am from England. But you Americans have got a couple of puppets that were imported overseas. The Muppet Show! That's right we got the likes Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy. Then there was Animal and Gonzo, Fuzzy Bear... in fact the list goes on of a great characters. It was just a brilliant show.Four... Just as big in cult status, but perhaps not as popular in its day due to only being shown during the day, we have Sesame Street. I don't remember too much about it other than the Cookie monster, Burt and Ernie and of course the count. But I'm sure you will remember a lot of the others. Oh yea I've just remembered Big Bird.Three... Over here we had the fantastic Rainbow with such heroes as George, Bungle and Zippy. Going back further in time we had Bill and Ben the flowerpot men or Andy Pandy, Joe 90 and Captain Scarlet.Two... Then there was Sooty and Sweep, Basil Brush and Roland Rat. Or what about Rod Hull and Emu? One... Thunderbirds are go!!! The greatest ever puppet creation in the world, ever –Thunderbirds.I could go on and on about these and many other children's greats. But the question is who do you remember?These blogs are all about fun and sharing. Thank you for reading a '#100blogfest' blog. Please follow this link to find the next blog in the series: http://martinkingauthor.com/blog/7094550076
Published on August 15, 2011 22:54
August 14, 2011
Another five stars
Received another five stars for Impeding Justice this time from a Sony reader.
Excellant Read!!!Posted July 30, 2011 by Patty, INExcellant from start to finish! Just finished Impeding Justice & already have a copy of Final Justice, ready to download to my reader. Will be watching for final part of the trilogy. Great story line!!! You definitely have a new fan. 2 thumbs up, as they say...... Let's hope my romances, with my new editor at the moment, first one due out this week, receive the same praise.;-)

Published on August 14, 2011 04:04
August 9, 2011
Michael Wallace - Writer: The Writer's Brain: Mel Comley
Michael Wallace - Writer: The Writer's Brain: Mel Comley: "I was a little intimidated by Mel before I met her. She had these great thrillers, a genre I was writing, and I pictured her a little like..."
Published on August 09, 2011 23:30
August 4, 2011
Another great review for Final Justice
5.0 out of 5 stars A thriller with soul, August 3, 2011 By Richard Bard (Redondo Beach, CA United States) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME) This review is from: Final Justice (A Lorne Simpkins thriller) (Kindle Edition) I really enjoyed this sequel to Impeding Justice. Lorne is just as feisty as ever, but it's the three-dimensional properties of this character that drew me in. Her fears and vulnerabilities are a pleasant change from the stereotypical crime fighting heroines one finds in the genre'. And the Unicorn, Baldwin, is an antagonist that any reader will love to hate. The boat scene made me want to kill him myself, slowly! Excellent character development and a fitting conclusion. Well done.
(REAL NAME) This review is from: Final Justice (A Lorne Simpkins thriller) (Kindle Edition) I really enjoyed this sequel to Impeding Justice. Lorne is just as feisty as ever, but it's the three-dimensional properties of this character that drew me in. Her fears and vulnerabilities are a pleasant change from the stereotypical crime fighting heroines one finds in the genre'. And the Unicorn, Baldwin, is an antagonist that any reader will love to hate. The boat scene made me want to kill him myself, slowly! Excellent character development and a fitting conclusion. Well done.
Published on August 04, 2011 05:05
July 26, 2011
Another smashing review.
5.0 out of 5 stars Excellent Story Line, July 25, 2011 By Richard Bard (Redondo Beach, CA United States) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME) Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?) This review is from: Impeding Justice (A Lorne Simpkins thriller) (A DI Lorne Simpkins thriller) (Kindle Edition) I thoroughly enjoyed the unpredictable story line and three dimensional characters. I'll definitely check out the next book in the series.
(REAL NAME) Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?) This review is from: Impeding Justice (A Lorne Simpkins thriller) (A DI Lorne Simpkins thriller) (Kindle Edition) I thoroughly enjoyed the unpredictable story line and three dimensional characters. I'll definitely check out the next book in the series.
Published on July 26, 2011 09:21
July 16, 2011
#samplesunday read another excerpt from Final Justice
Chapter Two
Lorne stretched and turned over to cuddle Henry, her border collie, 'Time to get up lazy bones.' Henry raised his head, stuck out his tongue and licked the side of her face. 'What woman needs a man when a dog can give kisses as good as that?' she said, gently nudging the dog off the side of the bed. Before going downstairs she walked into the bathroom. She let out an agonised moan. 'Christ, look at the state of me, what bloody man would consider sleeping with me anyway?' she said, after studying her reflection in the mirror and seeing the state of her make-up smudged face and the way her shoulder-length brown hair was sticking out in all directions. Her eight-year-old dog whimpered pitifully in response, she suspected more out of desperation to relieve himself, than in reply to her daft question. 'Okay, mate, come on.' She led the way down the stairs of her tiny two-bed terraced house in Highbury, with Henry trailing behind her. As Lorne unlocked the back door to let her faithful companion out, her eyes drifted up to the Arsenal wall clock hanging in her galley kitchen. Eleven-fifteen 'Bloody hell, where the heck did the morning go?' she mumbled, looking at the clock her dead partner had given her several years before. Detective Sergeant Pete Childs had been Starsky to her Hutch, back in the days when she was a successful Detective Inspector in the Met, and he was her partner, a friend whom she missed dearly. Now he was gone, gunned down in an alley by The Unicorn, the terrorist who had become her arch-enemy over the eight years she had hunted him, coming close to capturing him several times, only to have him escape when she thought he was finally cornered. She blamed The Unicorn for ruining her life. A man who had intentionally set out to teach her a lesson, by kidnapping and raping her beautiful thirteen-year-old daughter, and putting her to work in one of his seedy brothels, alongside dozens of Eastern-European teenagers smuggled into England in the backs of lorries. He had also robbed her of the man she had intended leaving her husband Tom for. Within days of burying her partner, she'd been forced to endure the unenviable task of repatriating pathologist Jacques Arnaud's body back to France so his loving family could bury him. It was a job that had left her with a gaping hole in her heart. That had all taken place a little over a year ago, and the farewell to Jacques proved to be the final straw in tearing apart her career. After watching The Unicorn's boat blow-up in a massive explosion, Lorne's DCI had insisted the criminal had carried out his last evil deed, but, her instincts came into play and, as they watched the smoke billowing over the marina, she was convinced that The Unicorn, otherwise known as Baldwin, had managed to escape the blaze somehow. Whilst the DCI and the Superintendent had been busy congratulating themselves and patting each other on the back for a job well done, Lorne had gone to her office and written out a two-page letter of resignation. She hadn't given DCI Roberts the chance to talk her out of it either, after handing him the envelope she had merely turned on her heel and walked out of the building; to this day had never stepped back in the place. She didn't even know if her superior had wanted to keep her as part of his team. That question still remained unanswered, as he'd never once bothered to contact her. It hadn't caused her sleepless nights, but it had pissed her off, just a little. In the end, she'd put his unwillingness to beg her to return to his team, down to his enlarged ego. Being as stubborn as him, she would almost certainly have thrown his offer back in his face, still, it wouldn't have hurt him to have asked. Baldwin's final words visited her daily: Each and every one of your loved ones will die. And because of his callous, heartless threat, which from him was more of a promise, Lorne had divorced her husband Tom, and forced her daughter into living with her father, out of harm's way. Her already fragile heart almost packed in at that point, not because of her divorce, but because it dawned on her she wouldn't be around to see Charlie flourish into a dynamic young woman. Tom had insisted the house should be split down the middle, fifty-fifty, however, with Charlie being raised by her father, Lorne had assured Tom that a sixty-forty split in his favour would be more than fair. Not wishing to argue any longer, their whole marriage had been one big argument anyway, Tom had the documents drawn up at the solicitors without her knowledge, and the matter was closed. Charlie's therapist applauded Lorne's decision to let her daughter live with Tom, believing it to be a more stable upbringing for the confused child. So, here she was, all alone, with just Henry to keep her company through the long days, and even longer nights. Her heart aching from everything she had been through in the past twelve months, and she prayed daily for some way to get her life back on track. Even Henry eyed her with sympathy during her daily rants of self-pity, when she wondered if she would ever get involved with a man again, whether she could bring herself to put another person's life in jeopardy with Baldwin at large, which generally ended with her turning to a bottle of vodka for comfort. The sound of Henry barking at the back door wanting to be let in, pulled her out of her self-absorption. She opened the door just as the telephone in the lounge started to ring. 'Stay there, mister. The last thing I want is you traipsing through the house with muddy paws. I'll be right back to dry you.' She hurried through the kitchen door, swiftly closing it behind her, blocking the faithful hound's escape route. She grunted as she hunted for the damn portable phone. 'Where the bloody hell is it?' She shouted, frustration building inside as she tossed the scatter cushions lying on the couch to the far side of the room during her search, 'Who is this? And what do you want?' Lorne asked abruptly. 'It's a pleasure speaking to you too, Lorne.' A deep velvet voice mocked. 'I repeat. Who is this?' The voice sounded familiar, but her hangover prevented her from putting a name to it. 'You're a mighty difficult person to track down, even for someone with my exceptional skills.' His sentence ended with a self-deprecating laugh. 'All right, buster, you've got exactly three seconds to tell me who you are, or I'm putting this phone down. One…two…' 'Jesus, woman. When did you lose that sense of humour you used to possess?' 'Three.' Lorne disconnected the call and stomped back to the kitchen, infuriated by her inability to place the voice, and the knowledge that she would never have had such a problem a year ago, when she'd been on top of her game. She needed sustenance to counteract her hangover blues. She almost made it to the kitchen door when the phone rang again. Convinced that it would be the obnoxious caller ringing back, she found herself in a dilemma, did she let the confounded phone just ring, in the hope he'd finally get the message and give up, or, for the sake of her sore head, and the thought that she should know the caller, did she answer it a second time? 'What the fuck do you want? I'm tired, hungover, and in no mood…' 'Lorne. For Christ's sake, it's Tony.' 'Tony…?' 'Oh, how easy the lady doth forget.' The caller mocked theatrically. 'Enlighten me then.' 'I despair, really I do, Lorne, and there I was thinking we were good friends.' 'I'm counting again; you know what will happen when I get to three. One…two…' 'Tony Warner, your friendly, secret agent. Remember now?' Tony said, his humour disappearing, along with his patience. After several seconds of quiet, Tony had to ask if she was still there. 'Yeah, I'm here. But why…?' Lorne asked, collapsing into the sofa behind her. 'Why am I ringing you, you mean?' 'Yes?' 'If I said I'm checking in to see how you are, would you believe me?' he asked. 'That's a negative.' 'That's what I thought. So, why don't you open your front door, let me in and we can discuss the reason for me getting in touch after all this time.' 'You're what? You're here. But…' Lorne broke off when the doorbell announced her visitor's arrival. She flung open her front door, forgetting she looked a mess, then watched in horror as he took in the sight of her dressed in bubblegum pink pyjamas covered in comical penguins. Both of them had a phone pressed to the ear. 'Nice outfit, I must have missed that particular little number at the London fashion show. Hi, Lorne, it's good to see you, kind of.' The redder she became, the wider his grin grew across his handsome, slightly scarred face. Her mouth hung open for several minutes before she grabbed him by the collar and hauled him in through the front door. 'I think it's a little late to be concerned about what the neighbours might think, don't you?' he said, laughing as he followed her up the narrow hallway. 'Wise ass. Give me a minute to throw on some proper clothes, will you?' Her cheeks, by now, were the colour of beetroot, and she hated herself for colouring up like that. 'Don't bother changing on my account it's been a while since I've laid eyes on a young lady in such fetching jimjams.' As she ran up the stairs, momentarily forgetting about the delicate state of her head, she stretched out an arm behind her and gave him the finger. 'Make yourself at home just don't go in the kit…' She shouted, stopping mid-sentence when she heard Henry bounding up the stairs to find her. 'Sorry, did you say something?' Shaking her head, Lorne grabbed the collie by his collar and dragged him into the bathroom so she could clean his dirty paws. 'Come on, mate, I know it's not your fault. If men had bloody brains they'd be far too dangerous for this universe, or the next.' With dog and owner both looking more presentable they headed back downstairs to see what the deal was with their unexpected guest. She found Tony standing by the kitchen window, gazing out at her tip of a garden. 'Work in progress, I guess you'd call that, huh?' 'If you must know, Tony, I've only just completed renovating this place inside, if you knew anything at all about property development you'd know the last piece of the puzzle is always the garden, and any external work.' 'Is that what you are nowadays, a property developer?' She filled the kettle, feeling further embarrassed by the muddy footprints making not so pretty patterns across the newly tiled floor of the kitchen. 'I was just about to dry Henry when you arrived, you'll have to excuse the mess in here, and throughout the rest of the house now, thanks to you.' 'What did I do?' He sounded mystified, as only a man could in such circumstances. 'Forget it. Just get on with telling me why you're here.' 'Any chance we can go somewhere a little less messy?' Tony asked, his eyes scanned the kitchen table that was overflowing with dozens of interior design magazines, and piles of unopened letters and bills. She poured the boiling water over the instant coffee granules and mumbled, 'Cheeky sod.' She added the milk and sugar, picked up the two mugs, and headed back up the hallway into the lounge at the front of the house. 'This better?' she asked, handing one of the steaming mugs to the agent. 'Much. Now, I need you to sit down.' The humour had gone, and his face looked more serious, which worried Lorne. 'You're kidding me. Just get on with it, Tony, for Christ's sake.' Lorne snapped, refusing to take a seat on her comfortable new brown angled leather sofa. 'Sit.' As her eyes met his troubled gaze the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, his tone held a warning to expect the worse. She took a step back and gently lowered herself onto the sofa, placing her mug on the side table beside her. 'I'm sitting. Now, what's up?' 'He's back.' Tony said.
Lorne stretched and turned over to cuddle Henry, her border collie, 'Time to get up lazy bones.' Henry raised his head, stuck out his tongue and licked the side of her face. 'What woman needs a man when a dog can give kisses as good as that?' she said, gently nudging the dog off the side of the bed. Before going downstairs she walked into the bathroom. She let out an agonised moan. 'Christ, look at the state of me, what bloody man would consider sleeping with me anyway?' she said, after studying her reflection in the mirror and seeing the state of her make-up smudged face and the way her shoulder-length brown hair was sticking out in all directions. Her eight-year-old dog whimpered pitifully in response, she suspected more out of desperation to relieve himself, than in reply to her daft question. 'Okay, mate, come on.' She led the way down the stairs of her tiny two-bed terraced house in Highbury, with Henry trailing behind her. As Lorne unlocked the back door to let her faithful companion out, her eyes drifted up to the Arsenal wall clock hanging in her galley kitchen. Eleven-fifteen 'Bloody hell, where the heck did the morning go?' she mumbled, looking at the clock her dead partner had given her several years before. Detective Sergeant Pete Childs had been Starsky to her Hutch, back in the days when she was a successful Detective Inspector in the Met, and he was her partner, a friend whom she missed dearly. Now he was gone, gunned down in an alley by The Unicorn, the terrorist who had become her arch-enemy over the eight years she had hunted him, coming close to capturing him several times, only to have him escape when she thought he was finally cornered. She blamed The Unicorn for ruining her life. A man who had intentionally set out to teach her a lesson, by kidnapping and raping her beautiful thirteen-year-old daughter, and putting her to work in one of his seedy brothels, alongside dozens of Eastern-European teenagers smuggled into England in the backs of lorries. He had also robbed her of the man she had intended leaving her husband Tom for. Within days of burying her partner, she'd been forced to endure the unenviable task of repatriating pathologist Jacques Arnaud's body back to France so his loving family could bury him. It was a job that had left her with a gaping hole in her heart. That had all taken place a little over a year ago, and the farewell to Jacques proved to be the final straw in tearing apart her career. After watching The Unicorn's boat blow-up in a massive explosion, Lorne's DCI had insisted the criminal had carried out his last evil deed, but, her instincts came into play and, as they watched the smoke billowing over the marina, she was convinced that The Unicorn, otherwise known as Baldwin, had managed to escape the blaze somehow. Whilst the DCI and the Superintendent had been busy congratulating themselves and patting each other on the back for a job well done, Lorne had gone to her office and written out a two-page letter of resignation. She hadn't given DCI Roberts the chance to talk her out of it either, after handing him the envelope she had merely turned on her heel and walked out of the building; to this day had never stepped back in the place. She didn't even know if her superior had wanted to keep her as part of his team. That question still remained unanswered, as he'd never once bothered to contact her. It hadn't caused her sleepless nights, but it had pissed her off, just a little. In the end, she'd put his unwillingness to beg her to return to his team, down to his enlarged ego. Being as stubborn as him, she would almost certainly have thrown his offer back in his face, still, it wouldn't have hurt him to have asked. Baldwin's final words visited her daily: Each and every one of your loved ones will die. And because of his callous, heartless threat, which from him was more of a promise, Lorne had divorced her husband Tom, and forced her daughter into living with her father, out of harm's way. Her already fragile heart almost packed in at that point, not because of her divorce, but because it dawned on her she wouldn't be around to see Charlie flourish into a dynamic young woman. Tom had insisted the house should be split down the middle, fifty-fifty, however, with Charlie being raised by her father, Lorne had assured Tom that a sixty-forty split in his favour would be more than fair. Not wishing to argue any longer, their whole marriage had been one big argument anyway, Tom had the documents drawn up at the solicitors without her knowledge, and the matter was closed. Charlie's therapist applauded Lorne's decision to let her daughter live with Tom, believing it to be a more stable upbringing for the confused child. So, here she was, all alone, with just Henry to keep her company through the long days, and even longer nights. Her heart aching from everything she had been through in the past twelve months, and she prayed daily for some way to get her life back on track. Even Henry eyed her with sympathy during her daily rants of self-pity, when she wondered if she would ever get involved with a man again, whether she could bring herself to put another person's life in jeopardy with Baldwin at large, which generally ended with her turning to a bottle of vodka for comfort. The sound of Henry barking at the back door wanting to be let in, pulled her out of her self-absorption. She opened the door just as the telephone in the lounge started to ring. 'Stay there, mister. The last thing I want is you traipsing through the house with muddy paws. I'll be right back to dry you.' She hurried through the kitchen door, swiftly closing it behind her, blocking the faithful hound's escape route. She grunted as she hunted for the damn portable phone. 'Where the bloody hell is it?' She shouted, frustration building inside as she tossed the scatter cushions lying on the couch to the far side of the room during her search, 'Who is this? And what do you want?' Lorne asked abruptly. 'It's a pleasure speaking to you too, Lorne.' A deep velvet voice mocked. 'I repeat. Who is this?' The voice sounded familiar, but her hangover prevented her from putting a name to it. 'You're a mighty difficult person to track down, even for someone with my exceptional skills.' His sentence ended with a self-deprecating laugh. 'All right, buster, you've got exactly three seconds to tell me who you are, or I'm putting this phone down. One…two…' 'Jesus, woman. When did you lose that sense of humour you used to possess?' 'Three.' Lorne disconnected the call and stomped back to the kitchen, infuriated by her inability to place the voice, and the knowledge that she would never have had such a problem a year ago, when she'd been on top of her game. She needed sustenance to counteract her hangover blues. She almost made it to the kitchen door when the phone rang again. Convinced that it would be the obnoxious caller ringing back, she found herself in a dilemma, did she let the confounded phone just ring, in the hope he'd finally get the message and give up, or, for the sake of her sore head, and the thought that she should know the caller, did she answer it a second time? 'What the fuck do you want? I'm tired, hungover, and in no mood…' 'Lorne. For Christ's sake, it's Tony.' 'Tony…?' 'Oh, how easy the lady doth forget.' The caller mocked theatrically. 'Enlighten me then.' 'I despair, really I do, Lorne, and there I was thinking we were good friends.' 'I'm counting again; you know what will happen when I get to three. One…two…' 'Tony Warner, your friendly, secret agent. Remember now?' Tony said, his humour disappearing, along with his patience. After several seconds of quiet, Tony had to ask if she was still there. 'Yeah, I'm here. But why…?' Lorne asked, collapsing into the sofa behind her. 'Why am I ringing you, you mean?' 'Yes?' 'If I said I'm checking in to see how you are, would you believe me?' he asked. 'That's a negative.' 'That's what I thought. So, why don't you open your front door, let me in and we can discuss the reason for me getting in touch after all this time.' 'You're what? You're here. But…' Lorne broke off when the doorbell announced her visitor's arrival. She flung open her front door, forgetting she looked a mess, then watched in horror as he took in the sight of her dressed in bubblegum pink pyjamas covered in comical penguins. Both of them had a phone pressed to the ear. 'Nice outfit, I must have missed that particular little number at the London fashion show. Hi, Lorne, it's good to see you, kind of.' The redder she became, the wider his grin grew across his handsome, slightly scarred face. Her mouth hung open for several minutes before she grabbed him by the collar and hauled him in through the front door. 'I think it's a little late to be concerned about what the neighbours might think, don't you?' he said, laughing as he followed her up the narrow hallway. 'Wise ass. Give me a minute to throw on some proper clothes, will you?' Her cheeks, by now, were the colour of beetroot, and she hated herself for colouring up like that. 'Don't bother changing on my account it's been a while since I've laid eyes on a young lady in such fetching jimjams.' As she ran up the stairs, momentarily forgetting about the delicate state of her head, she stretched out an arm behind her and gave him the finger. 'Make yourself at home just don't go in the kit…' She shouted, stopping mid-sentence when she heard Henry bounding up the stairs to find her. 'Sorry, did you say something?' Shaking her head, Lorne grabbed the collie by his collar and dragged him into the bathroom so she could clean his dirty paws. 'Come on, mate, I know it's not your fault. If men had bloody brains they'd be far too dangerous for this universe, or the next.' With dog and owner both looking more presentable they headed back downstairs to see what the deal was with their unexpected guest. She found Tony standing by the kitchen window, gazing out at her tip of a garden. 'Work in progress, I guess you'd call that, huh?' 'If you must know, Tony, I've only just completed renovating this place inside, if you knew anything at all about property development you'd know the last piece of the puzzle is always the garden, and any external work.' 'Is that what you are nowadays, a property developer?' She filled the kettle, feeling further embarrassed by the muddy footprints making not so pretty patterns across the newly tiled floor of the kitchen. 'I was just about to dry Henry when you arrived, you'll have to excuse the mess in here, and throughout the rest of the house now, thanks to you.' 'What did I do?' He sounded mystified, as only a man could in such circumstances. 'Forget it. Just get on with telling me why you're here.' 'Any chance we can go somewhere a little less messy?' Tony asked, his eyes scanned the kitchen table that was overflowing with dozens of interior design magazines, and piles of unopened letters and bills. She poured the boiling water over the instant coffee granules and mumbled, 'Cheeky sod.' She added the milk and sugar, picked up the two mugs, and headed back up the hallway into the lounge at the front of the house. 'This better?' she asked, handing one of the steaming mugs to the agent. 'Much. Now, I need you to sit down.' The humour had gone, and his face looked more serious, which worried Lorne. 'You're kidding me. Just get on with it, Tony, for Christ's sake.' Lorne snapped, refusing to take a seat on her comfortable new brown angled leather sofa. 'Sit.' As her eyes met his troubled gaze the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, his tone held a warning to expect the worse. She took a step back and gently lowered herself onto the sofa, placing her mug on the side table beside her. 'I'm sitting. Now, what's up?' 'He's back.' Tony said.
Published on July 16, 2011 22:50
July 15, 2011
Another fab review for Impeding Justice
5.0 out of 5 stars Brilliant!! Gripping!!, 14 July 2011 By shelly - See all my reviews This review is from: Impeding Justice (A Lorne Simpkins thriller) (A DI Lorne Simpkins thriller) (Kindle Edition) Absolutely brilliant! this book had my full attention from page 1, could'nt put it down so much so i stayed up until 2am just so i could get to the end, when i got to the final page it left me wanting more...thriller's i dont normally read and this was my first. Impeding Justice is a must read, you wont regret it
Published on July 15, 2011 05:38
July 7, 2011
Win a FREE e-reader
An author friend of mine Nicholas is giving away a FREE Kobo ereader.
Drop by and take a look at his Goodreads page. Win a FREE e-reader.
Drop by and take a look at his Goodreads page. Win a FREE e-reader.
Published on July 07, 2011 04:01