Catherine Edward's Blog, page 17

Review & Blog Tour: The Mausoleum by David Mark

Review: The Mausoleum by David Mark


Short Synopsis:
When lightning strikes an ancient crypt, it exposes a devastating wartime secret in this compelling psychological thriller.
Full Synopsis:

1967. In a quiet village in the wild lands of the Scottish borders, disgraced academic Cordelia Hemlock is trying to put her life back together. Grieving the loss of her son, she seeks out the company of the dead, taking comfort amid the ancient headstones and crypts of the local churchyard. When lightning strikes a tumbledown tomb, she glimpses a corpse that doesn’t belong among the crumbling bones. But when the storm passes and the body vanishes, the authorities refuse to believe the claims of a hysterical ‘outsider’.
Teaming up with a reluctant witness, local woman Felicity Goose, Cordelia’s enquiries all lead back to a former POW camp that was set up in the village during the Second World War. But not all Gilsland’s residents welcome the two young women’s interference. There are those who believe the village’s secrets should remain buried . . . whatever the cost.


Review:
The Mausoleum by David Mark is a chilling tale for mystery lovers. 

The story opens with an elderly Cordelia and Felicity, waiting by the bed of an old man, trying to get him talk about something in 2010. Then the plot unfolds with series of flashbacks in the point of view of both Cordelia and Felicity. In the year 1967, the women meet in a graveyard. A sudden rainstorm and a lightning cause a tree to fall over an ancient crypt. The women are shocked to find a corpse that looks fresh as it has been buried, instead of bones and skull. That night, Fairfox, who heads to investigate the scene dies.

The women set off to the scene only to find the corpse is no longer there. Cordelia is hell bent on what she saw and she's determined to figure out the secret beneath it. The rest of the story revolves around the women on how they uncovers the mystery.

The Mausoleum was so different from my usual reads, but I found it quiet interesting and I was intrigued the entire time. Various scenarios popped into my mind, playing the guessing game. I liked the writing style and the mystery surrounding the plot. I thought it was built very well. The Mausoleum is definitely worth a read.

**I received an ARC for this book in exchange of an honest review**

Author Bio:


David Mark spent seven years as crime reporter for the Yorkshire Post and now writes full-time. A former Richard & Judy pick and Sunday Timesbestseller, he is the author of nine police procedurals in the DS Aector McAvoy series and one historical novel. He lives in Northumberland with his family.
Twitter Info:-        @davidmarkwriter
Author website:http://www.davidmarkwriter.co.uk
Release Dates:
-        UK and Australia, 28 Feb 2019-        US and Canada, 1 May 2019

Review: The Deaths on Black Rock

The Deaths on Black Rock by Brm StewartMy rating: 4 of 5 stars


This crime thriller revolves around the death of women on the rock under mysterious circumstances.

Amanda is requested to conduct an investigation on the enquiry on the investigation on Rima Khallaf's death. While Amanda uncovers some information that was overlooked in the previous investigation, it wasn't enough to reopen the case. Rima's parents are hell bent that their daughter was murdered, provided there was no evidence to prove otherwise.

With Rima's laptop in hand Amanda initiates an unsolicited investigation. The information she stumble on is something she couldn't overlook or ignore. The rest of the story follows her steps as she struggles to find the answer. There's voyeurism and a sub plot that run along with this one. I like how everything fell into place towards the end.

The story gives us a clear insight within the police Scotland and their procedure. This well written story would be in no doubt a treat for crime story lovers.

View all my reviews

BLOG TOUR: Coming For You by Kristi Belcamino

Coming For You
Kristi Belcamino
Publication date: February 26th 2019
Genres: Adult, Suspense, Thriller

Sofia Kennedy has spent the last twenty-four years keeping her past a dark secret. To the rest of the world, she’s a gifted graphic designer, marvelous cook, and doting Minneapolis mother.
But then her daughter is murdered.
Sofia soon wonders whether her life of lies has caught up with her. The police are asking dangerous questions and going after the wrong man. It’s up to Sofia to hunt down her daughter’s killer before her elaborate deception is exposed and she loses whatever semblance of a life she has left.

Goodreads / Amazon—EXCERPT:Chapter 7
KATE
Five months earlier
March 2017
Dinkytown, Minneapolis
I wasn’t really paying attention until the boy was right in front of me.
Instead, I was concentrating on the big stack of books on the counter. I was rearranging them like the bookstore owner wanted—to showcase the week’s bestsellers. It was busy work—I was looking for anything to keep me from thinking about my mom. If I thought about her, I would start screaming or crying or hit something. I hated her so much. Okay. I didn’t really really hate her, but I’d never been so angry at her in my life. I thought she loved me, but really, she’s been lying to me my whole life and keeping me from my family. My grandmother. Who was apparently alive despite my mom saying she was dead.
My entire childhood I was insanely jealous of the other kids who had grandparents. On grandparents’ day at school, my mom didn’t even try to find someone else to go. Sadie’s grandparents were dead, too, but at least Sadie’s mom had arranged for this grandma-like neighbor to go. My mom just shrugged when I complained about it.
Now I know why. She’s a liar.
When I first saw the message on Facebook, I thought it was probably from some creepy old pervert pretending to be my long-lost grandma. Nobody I know ever gets on Facebook anymore. I don’t even know why I checked it that day. I didn’t want to believe her, but then she told me things about my mom that most people would never know.
Like how the burn scar on my mom’s arm is from when she was trying to cook her own pancakes for breakfast when she was four. Or how she has this one mole on the back of her neck that you can only see when she puts her hair in a bun to take a shower.
What I can’t understand, or forgive, is why my mother lied.
My grandma said that she’d explain soon enough. She told me not to trust my mom. She said that everything my mom says is a lie. She also told me not to say anything to my dad. Yet.
I’m so confused. Nothing seems real. Every day I come home and pretend I have a lot of homework, but instead, I go in my room and get in bed. I worry if I even look at my mom I’m going to scream. Sometimes when she’s not paying attention, I’ve caught myself staring at her, wondering who the hell this lying woman really is and where did my real mom go?
I was so upset about my mom that I barely noticed the boy at the counter in front of me. When I looked up and saw him there, I jumped and he laughed. He stared at me with these black eyes and I couldn’t look away. It was unnerving. For a second I didn’t know what to say. And then when I did talk it was like I was ten again talking snotty to a cute boy.
“What?”
He laughed again. “Is that how you greet your customers?”
His accent was lilting and sounded sophisticated.
Before he opened his mouth, if you looked at him, with his short spiky dreads and baggy jeans, you’d think he was just some really cute thuggish boy from the north side. But when he spoke, he suddenly seemed like he should be on stage doing Shakespeare. It was unsettling. Who spoke that way?
I blushed. “Sorry. Can I help you?”
“Yes.” He crunched an already wrinkled piece of paper he was holding. “I’m looking for ‘The History of Herodotus.’”
“Oh.” There you go, Kate, wow him with your scintillating response. “Actually, I’m not sure we carry that book but I can point you in the right direction, show you where it might be if we have it. It’s nonfiction, right?”
I’d never heard of the book.
“Yes. There are actually a few books by him. They are called ‘The Histories.’ They are about the history, politics, cultures, and traditions of Greece and North Africa and Asia. There are nine books in the series.”
“Oh.” Again, brilliant answer, Kate. “I can see if we carry it.” My tone was officious, businesslike to hide that I felt like an idiot. I started to come out from behind the counter.
“You don’t have it on your computer?” He eyed the laptop on the counter.
I shook my head. It was the bane of my life. “The owner is a little old-fashioned. I’ve been trying to talk him into cataloging online, but it’s a slow process. We order online, but we don’t keep our inventory there yet. Kind of stupid, huh?”
He shrugged. He gave me this smile and I couldn’t help but smile back.
I came out from behind the counter, self-consciously smoothing my skirt down as I stepped in front of him. “Follow me. I’ll show you the nonfiction section and the area where it might be.”
The old bookstore was a maze with one tiny room winding into another. And then there was the basement, which was more open, but still had lots of nooks and crannies. And had two creepy cats. And was haunted. And was where we were heading.
The cats were doing their usual freak show. Caterwauling and running around like banshees, hopping from old sofas to worn-out armchairs scattered around the basement of the store.
I usually tried to avoid the basement. It gave me the creeps. Today, I blamed the haunted part for the hairs on the back of my neck sticking straight up as I made my way down the stairs. It was that—not him being so close behind me.
We wove through the stacks to a back corner where I swung around to face him. “If we have it, it would be somewhere around here.” I gestured to a small bookshelf.
He didn’t say anything just stared at me. I held my breath, staring back. His eyes moved down to my mouth and he swallowed. It seemed impossible, but he was acting like he was nervous.
He cleared his throat. “Okay. Thanks,” he finally said.
I turned to go and he said, “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, I’m the only one here. I have to stay upstairs at the counter.”
“Oh.”
I waited.
“It’s just kind of freaking creepy down here. It’s like cold and shit and those cats are freaking me out.”
“Yup.” I said with a smile, tilting my head. “It’s haunted.”
His eyes grew wide. “Bloody hell?” His voice was incredulous and he quickly looked around. “Seriously, though.” His voice wavered and a panic flitted across his face. “Can you just wait a second while I look?”
I was taken aback. He was six-feet-tall and looked like he could thump anyone who messed with him and, yet, he was frightened out of his wits.
I shrugged. “Okay. I’ll probably hear the bell if someone comes in.” It was a lie, but I wanted to stay close to this boy. For no good reason.
“I’ll help you look.” Kneeling, I scanned the bottom shelf. He knelt beside me, reading the titles quietly out loud. It took a while, but then I found it on the second shelf from the top. “Voila!”
I plucked it off the shelf and handed it to him, plopping it in his arms. It was heavy. I was rewarded a smile.
“Great. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said and took off without waiting for me.
I followed him up the stairs this time, trying not to smile, but it was tough.
He was still at the bookstore an hour later, stretched out on one of our old beat-up leather chairs, concentrating on whatever he was reading.
For the rest of my shift, I mostly forgot he was even there as I went about my work. Every once in a while, I’d look over and watch him beneath my eyelashes. Watch how his brow furrowed for a few seconds and then he’d nod as if he just understood something.
It was cute.
When it was a few minutes after closing time, I cleared my throat until he looked up. Behind him through the window, I could see that the world outside was white with snow pummeling down.
He looked up as I reached for my coat.
“Oh.” He sat up straighter. “Oh. What time do you close?” He seemed dazed, his finger holding his place in the book.
“Five minutes ago.”
He scrambled up. “Oh dear, I’m sorry.” He shrugged on his coat.
I laughed. Who said “oh, dear?” Nobody I knew. At least nobody under seventy.
I waited for him to bring the book up to the counter to buy, but he didn’t, just held it dangling from his arm and then, seemingly reluctantly, set it on the coffee table.
It was a heavy book. And expensive. At least for our used bookstore. It probably cost twenty-five dollars or more. Maybe if he was a college kid, like I suspected, he couldn’t afford it.
He opened the door and paused. A whoosh of cold air and small flakes of snow swooped inside. Then he turned. “See you next time?”
I didn’t know what to say so I just smiled. I’m sure it looked like a grimace. So that wasn’t awkward, was it? Totally. Cringy.
After I was sure he was gone, disappeared into the whiteness of the snowstorm, I picked up the book and put it behind the counter on a shelf where I kept my things.
I hoped the boy would come back for it. And I didn’t know why.
Sure, his smile was nice. And he seemed smart. In addition, his accent proved he wasn’t from around here.
All those things combined made him the most intriguing boy I’d ever met.

Author Bio:
USA Today bestselling author and Agatha, Anthony, Barry, and Macavity-award finalist Kristi Belcamino writes dark mysteries about fierce women seeking justice. Newsletters subscribers receive a free gift- a prequel novella unavailable for sale anywhere. Sign up here: https://www.subscribepage.com/KristiB...
She is a crime fiction writer, cops beat reporter, and Italian mama who also bakes a tasty biscotti. In her former life, as an award-winning crime reporter at newspapers in California, she flew over Big Sur in an FA-18 jet with the Blue Angels, raced a Dodge Viper at Laguna Seca and attended barbecues at the morgue.
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Newsletter

GIVEAWAY!
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Interview with Author Meka James

Interview with Author Meka James

Meka James is a writer of adult contemporary and erotic romance. A born and raised Georgia Peach, she still resides in the southern state with her hubby of 16 years and counting. Mom to four kids of the two legged variety, she also has four fur-babies of the canine variety. Leo the turtle and Spade the snake rounds out her wacky household. When not writing or reading, Meka can be found playing The Sims 3, sometimes Sims 4, and making up fun stories to go with the pixelated people whose world she controls.
Find her on: Amazon | Website | Goodreads Social Media: Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr11.    When and how did your writing journey start?
~My writing journey started in a sorta unconventional way. I started writing for fun in 2011, making ‘illustrated’ stories of sorts based off a computer game that I play. One of the readers of my story loved it so much she convinced me to turn it into an actual book. That is how Fiendish was born. Sadly, she died before it was completed and the book is dedicated to her.

2. Tell me about your latest release, Anything Once. What inspired you to write this plot?
~I wrote Anything Once because two of my Squad members (my critique/support group) asked me to try my hand at writing an erotic romance after reading my second book, Not Broken. Apparently they felt I did a halfway decent job writing the sex scenes. The plot came to me out of the blue as I was thinking of how I could write a story that revolved around the sex. The opening scene played out in my head (which is slightly different than the one in the book) and after that scene took shape, the rest of the story was born. I was excited to use a married couple because you don’t see them much in romance novels. And having an established relationship to build off of meant I could dedicate more time to the sex and less to the building up of the newbie relationship because typically I’m a slow burn kinda gal.

3. Anything Once treads through one of the sensitive issues couples face in their lives at some point of time. I must say, you did a great job handling it. Tell me something interesting that happened while writing this story.
~Thank you. In a new relationship, the sex can be exciting and hot, but in longer term ones, they can turn routine. Not always, but it happens. As far as something interesting that happened while writing it, um… I guess it would be the ‘research’ required surrounding Quinn and the porn. I mean I had to look up the same thing so I could accurately describe the sorts of things she might see on her browser.

4. So, a little birdie tells me a lot of background work has gone into writing the intimate scenes. Considering no scene was repeated again, how did you manage it? Where did the inspiration came from or who (*winks) inspired it?
~hahahaha if you’re asking if my “Research Assistant” and I act out all the scenes, sadly no. Sometimes, but not always. I have a pretty active imagination and I work hard to not repeat things. It’s not easy, but I do have some very forthcoming friends that are happy to share and give me ideas that they don’t mind being put in my books.
5. Tell me about your upcoming release with the Carina press. Tell us more about the plot.

~Being Neighborly is an erotic novella. It’s about two people that live across from each other in a Townhome community and put a new spin on getting to know your neighbor. There’s a little voyeurism, a few corny jokes, and sexy consent. 


6. When you look back at your writing journey, what do you feel? Can you tell me about the challenges you overcame?
~Looking back? LOL well, I still feel like a newbie, even with four books out. I’ve yet to do the same thing twice. Have no plan of attack, and seem to be stumbling my way through. The biggest challenge I’ve overcome is I’m no longer doing it alone. Having a support group of people that are in the trenches with you makes a huge difference. When the block and self-doubt hit they are there to keep the light on.
7. What other projects are you working on?
~um, too many. Hahaha but for real I’m attempting to write two more shorts to go along with Being Neighborly, but featuring different couples in the same complex. I also have two May/December stories started, both featuring older women with younger men.
8. Your favorite part/dialogue/scene from one of your books:  

~Oh man. Like how am I supposed to answer that? It’s like saying pick your favorite kid. Hahaha, um… I guess I’ll go with a scene from book two, Not Broken:Malcolm and Calida had a lot to overcome due to her history and it was a bumpy road. They did have pockets, even in the middle of the serious that gave levity and showed the depth of their connection. This is from chapter 37 and it’s a conversation after their first sexual encounter.“But you didn’t want—and I threw myself at you anyway.”“Hold up. You think I’m leaving because I’m bothered by the fact you initiated sex?”She nodded. “I did more than that, Mal. You told me no, and I kept trying. I...I was going to apologize when I called, but I chickened out. You didn’t seem mad or upset, but now you’re leaving me…”“Because I’m not. Baby, let’s get one thing straight. I have zero problem with being your dick on demand. Believe that.”Ginger’s eyes got wide before she started laughing. “Oh...oh my god,” she said, fanning her face as she tried to catch her breath. “I love that you can do that.”“Do what?”“Make me laugh.” She rested her head on my shoulder.I reached up to caress her cheek. “I do too.”We sat quiet for a little while. Ginger intertwined her fingers with mine.I was the one to break the silence. “You cried. Afterwards. And they weren’t happy tears. That wasn’t exactly the reaction I expected after we were together for the first time, and words can’t describe how much that bothered me. Knowing I played a role in causing you that kind of pain, or distress, whatever. Then the next morning...hearing you had regrets...not exactly something you want to hear coming from the person you love.”Ginger sat up to look at me before climbing back into my lap. She placed her hands on either side of my face and rested her forehead against mine. “I’m still learning to use my words.” She paused, and gave a small smile. “I’m sorry, Mal, for making you feel like that.” She readjusted herself on my lap.I let out a long, low groan. “This is why I need to go. I am in physical pain with how much I want you right now. But...the next time we’re together, I want there to be no regrets. And the only tears you should have are because I rocked your world so much you are at a loss for words, so crying is the only option.”Her head tilted. “Really? It’d be that good, huh?”I smiled. “Without a doubt.”

9. What authors do you like to read? What book or books have had a strong influence on you or your writing?
~This question is always so hard for me. I don’t know that I have a “go-to” author currently. I read based on my mood. And I can’t say that there has been any book/books that are a direct influence of my writing. At least none that come to mind because I have a crap memory. I’m sure somethings have wormed their way in, but I couldn’t pinpoint them.

10. What's your family like?

~Crazy. Loud. Annoying at times like all families. But I adore them, even when my husband’s chewing drives me batty. hahaha Rapid fire:
1. A random fun fact about yourself: I have 5 tattoos
2. Best surprise ever:  Sir Titan The Mighty the ¼ I talk about in question 7
3. Pet peeves: loud chewing
4. An unforgettable moment in your writing journey: My first ‘fan’ mail
5. When I'm not writing, I'd like to:  Play The Sims
6. Your hidden talent:  Don’t have one
7. Dogs or Cats: Dogs, we have 3 ¼ (one is a 4lb. Yorkie LOL)
8. Spa retreat or camping:  Spa! All day, every day.
9. What is the best piece of advice you’ve received?   Don’t worry about what other folks are doing.
10. The most inspiring quote: Don’t really have one

Message to your fans:
~Thank you! I appreciate each and every one of the readers that support me by buying my books and spreading the word about 
them. I know I’m a slow writer, but I promise it’s more than my 
lack of focus. I want to make sure I’m giving you the best possible
 story I can. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading as much as I’ve 
enjoyed  sharing. And I like hearing from you. Fan mail is the best 
and always makes my day!

Thanks againUntil next time~Meka

RELEASE DAY BLITZ: Kane (Cooper Construction) by Jen Davis

Kane (Cooper Construction) by Jen Davis


I know how it feels to lose everything—to watch my world crash down around me, unable to do shit about it. I was a broken man when the Skulls took me in. They helped me pick up the pieces, became my family, earned my loyalty.

Then my past storms back into my life—and onto my worksite—with spiky heels and an attitude to match. Amanda doesn’t just own the company. She owns my heart.

She’ll always own it. Even though her betrayal sent me into hell in the first place

But being together now is not as simple as it was back then. We’ve both changed. After thirteen years, we’re worlds apart. I don’t belong in her world, and she wants nothing to do with mine.

Problem is, I don’t think I can let her walk away from me…not again.
Add to your Goodreads Library
PURCHASE LINKS:


Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2UD3UzAAmazon CA: https://amzn.to/2S6nfwoAmazon UK: https://amzn.to/2D6DHSZAmazon AU: https://amzn.to/2TtJusB


AUTHOR BIO

Jen started her love affair with romance novels, first as a reader, then as a reviewer and blogger. She launched the Red Hot Books blog in 2010 and jumped into Book Twitter shortly after.

She is happily married to her high school sweetheart. Together, they’re raising two kids, a cat, and a dog who is afraid of his own shadow.

Jen spends her days working as television journalist and her nights curled up with a good book.


AUTHOR LINKS

Website: http://jendavis.net
Twitter: http://twitter.com/redhotbooks
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jen.davis.author
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jen-davis
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3360642.Jen_Davis

COVER REVEAL: LYCAN'S BLOOD QUEEN

COVER REVEAL: LYCAN'S BLOOD QUEEN
I couldn't wait to show you this stunning cover by German Creative. I'm in love with this cover

BOOK BLITZ: TIME WILL TELL (Excerpt Included)

TIME WILL TELL
Eva Jordan




PUB DATE:  25thApril 2019ISBN: 9781911583943PRICE: £8.99EXTENT: 288 PagesDIMENSIONS: B format paperbackILLUSTRATIONS: N/ACATEGORY: Women’s Fiction, RomanceBIC CODE: FA, FRDREGIONS: World
matthew@urbanepublications.com


Eva Jordan’s much-anticipated follow up to the bestselling ‘All The Colours In-Between’.

Writer, Lizzie Lemalf, and her loving but somewhat dysfunctional family are still grieving over the loss of a much-loved family member. Lizzie is doing her best to keep her family together but why does the recent death of a well-known celebrity have them all in a spin? The police suspect foul play; Lizzie and other family members suspect one another. Lizzie begins searching for answers only to find herself being dragged back to the past, to 1960’s London to be exact, and to the former life of her father, that up until now she has never been privy to. Every family has its secrets but how can the past hold the key to a present day celebrity death?
They say the past comes back to haunt you. Surely the truth will out? Maybe, but only time will tell…
·       ‘A funny yet poignant story of modern family life’ – Jill’s Book Café·        ‘A roller coaster of emotions in one book -amazing!’ – read-along-with-sue (top 100 amazon reviewer)
About the Author:



Eva Jordan is a published writer of several short stories and Time Will Tell is her third novel. Eva lives in a small town in Cambridgeshire with partner Steve and three of our four children, who are a constant source of inspiration – they are all teenagers, need I say more! Eva’s career has been varied, including working in a Women’s Refuge and more recently at the city library. However, storytelling through the art of writing is her true passion.

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3 8 T I M E  W I L L  T E L L


Chapter 4
Christmas Day
P R E S E N T DAY – L AT E A F T E R N O O N C A S S I E
Hunter Black is dead.
Dead.
I feel… numb. Why?
I should be ecstatic, jumping up and down, fist thumping the air, ready to dance on his grave. Cremation would be better. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, flush to flush… down the fucking toilet, where he belongs.
Gone.
Forever.
Everyone, quiet, looks at one another. Beside me, Mum tucks my hair behind my ear, touches my cheek, and asks if I’m okay? I feel my eyes widen in surprise, shrink back to being a child again. I don’t know. Am I okay? I suppose I am. I shrug. ‘I guess so,’ I hear myself reply.
An arm, strong reassuring, folds around my shoulders. It’s Luke. He leans forward, kisses the tip of my nose. I smile. Movement to the side of me finds Connor, running his hand through his hair, blowing air from his inflated cheeks. He looks agitated, offers me a tight-lipped smile. Baby Nicolas, balanced on Maisy’s hip, mouth turned down, chin quivering, looks every bit as confused as me. He whimpers, quietly at first, like a faraway police siren, growing louder and whinier by the second, breaking both the silence and weird atmosphere in the room. Maisy brushes past me.






Time Will   Tell  _1st proofs.indd  38                                                             20/01/2019  12:35  


C h r i s t m a s  D ay 3 9

‘Taking him for a nap,’ she says, squeezing my shoulder. ‘Good news eh, sis? Good news and good bloody riddance.’ She calls to Crazee to go with her and he pauses by my side, his face reddening as he shifts from foot to foot. He opens his mouth as if to speak then seems to change his mind; fist bumps me instead before giving me the thumbs up as he leaves the room. Si, my stepdad, now standing next to Mum, also asks me if I’m okay and again I shrug my shoulders just as Uncle Sean calls out, winks, and also sticks his thumb up.
Aunt Natasha, who is bent over her phone, confirms the TV news report.
‘It’s all over Twitter,’ she says.
Luke’s phone rings and he skulks off toward the kitchen to answer it. Connor heads towards the door, Mum behind him. Nan mumbles something I don’t quite catch then shuffles off, as well, to make tea for everyone. Confused, I look around, realise I’m alone. I feel weird. Everything feels weird. Hunter Black, who has caused me so much pain and suffering, my family too, is dead. So why don’t I feel happy? Or relieved? Something, anything, would be good.
Wait… I am angry. Angry and annoyed that once a-fucking-gain he is at the centre of my thoughts. Today was bad enough, with it being the first year since Grandad passed away. And now this: Hunter Black overshadowing everything, taking centre stage – again. A bubble of anger, effervescent, wells in my chest, taking me by surprise. It eats away at me, making me want to scream, smash plates, get drunk… Anything that takes my thoughts away from him.
I decide a fag will have to do instead. I head into the kitchen, past Nan who, staring into space, is hovering by the rumbling kettle.
‘Just going for a fag,’ I say, unlocking the back door.
Nan’s eyebrows knit together in a frown. She sighs, shakes her head. ‘You should give them up, Cassie.’




Time Will Tell_1st proofs.indd  39 20/01/2019  12:35


4 0 T I M E  W I L L  T E L L

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. ‘I will do, Nan. Soon.’
Luke paces back and forth at the end of the garden like a caged wild animal. Although, with his phone – still pressed to his ear – in one hand, and the other arm swinging back and forth, he also looks like some mad music conductor. Who the hell he is talking to? He spots me and puts his hand up.
I nod, then cup my hand around the fag hanging from the side of my mouth, waving my lighter underneath it. It hisses until an orangey blue flame jumps up and crackles, the cigarette catching light. I suck hard, close my eyes and look up; feel woozy, lightheaded. When I open my eyes again I watch the smoke billowing from my mouth disappearing into the grey sky above me. By the time I reach Luke he has finished talking on the phone, which he slips back into his jeans pocket.
I offer him a drag of my ciggie. He shakes his head then changes his mind and squinting, takes a drag.
‘Who was that?’ I ask.
Luke’s eyes narrow and a blue grey trail of smoke wafts from the corner of his mouth. ‘Just Jay.’ He waves his hand in the air. ‘Being a dick about the New Year’s Eve set we’ve got planned.’
‘So, is it all sorted now?’
Luke drops the half-smoked ciggie on the ground and stamps on it. My heart sinks, I could have easy got a couple more drags out of that. ‘Hopefully,’ he replies. ‘C’mon, let’s go in. It’s bloody freezing out here. And you’re shivering.’
‘Luke?’ I pull my hand back. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me how I am? How I feel about Black?’Luke frowns. ‘But I did… didn’t I?’ He points to the back door. ‘Just a minute ago. Inside.’‘I know. But, well… that was in front of everyone. I thought, when we were alone, you’d want to know how I feel? How I really feel?’
He attempts a smile, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. ‘Shit. Yeah,





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sorry. Of course. It’s just…’ He sits on the seat of the old swing, its paint-peeling metal frame having seen better days, and pulls me onto his knee.
‘It’s just what?’
Luke, his arms wrapped around my waist, his cheek pressed against my back, squeezes me. ‘I don’t want to upset you,’ he says. ‘Personally, I think it’s good news. The best.’ His tone is as dark as my ex boss’s name. ‘Men like Black are bad. Fucking evil. And the world is now minus one less scumbag. So what? But I’m not you, am I Cassie? I know that if we could have got him there, you’d have preferred your day in court. And what with today also being the first anniversary of your grandad’s…
’ He knows only too well the mere mention of Grandad will set me off. I try my hardest to swallow the lump forming in my throat, control the sobs desperate to leave my mouth. ‘I suppose I’m just trying to tread carefully, Cas. But… Look at me.’I arch myself around to face him. He cradles my face in his hands, his old leather jacket creaking. I put my hand up to his eye. The cut around it looks angrier than it did earlier. He winces, moves my hand away.‘I still can’t believe Useless did that to you. Are you sure you were just messing around? That it wasn’t a real fight?’‘Course it wasn’t a real fight.’ There’s a flash of impatience in his voice, like I’m a child asking too many questions. ‘What on earth would me and Eustace be fighting about?’ He leans in, kisses me gently on the lips. ‘I love you, Cas. Always have, always will. If you want to talk about Black, Honey, the whole bloody thing, we can talk until the fucking cows come home if you like. But if you’d rather not… well, I get that too.’
I nod my head, the lump lodged in my throat now the size of a plum. ‘Thanks,’ I whisper, hot tears stinging my cheeks as they roll down my face. ‘It’s weird but I don’t know how I feel about Black’s death. I guess I’m relieved. But I always thought that





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if anything ever happened to him, I’d feel – happy, somehow? Pleased? But I don’t. I just feel… numb.’ I stand up, as does Luke, who then pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. And just like at the hospital, a year ago today, when baby Nicolas was born and Grandad passed away, he kisses my head and guides me into a tight circle until eventually my sobbing stops.
The back door swings open and it’s Nan asking if either of us wants tea or coffee. I put my hand up. ‘Coming, Nan.’Luke laughs. ‘Why do old people always want to make tea when there’s a problem?’Luke follows me into the living room, suggests I take a seat and not to worry; he just needs to make another quick phone call then he’ll help my Nan and bring me a coffee. I watch him leave the room, head towards the stairs, my old bedroom. Si and Uncle Sean are still sitting at the dining table, surrounded by tubs of chocolates, half-pulled Christmas crackers and what looks like piles of coloured spaghetti, fired from the shells of party poppers. I watch them for a moment. Their voices are low, secretive, but their body language is loud and demonstrative. Chests puffed up, arms waving this way and that, I wonder what or who they are talking about. Hunter Black – maybe?
A hand on my shoulder makes me jump. I turn to see Summer standing behind me, cradling her yappy little pug, Sir Lancelot, or, ‘Sir Barks-a-lot’ as Connor prefers to call him and just plain old ‘Lance’ to everyone else. Summer, who’s almost as tall as me now, is wearing eyeliner and mascara, and looks frighteningly older than twelve. Don’t rush to grow up, I want to say, it’s such a scary place.
‘You okay, Cassie?’ she asks.
I find my best plucky smile, nod, ‘Yeah. I think so,’ I reply, patting Lance on the head. He growls. I flinch. ‘Not very friendly, is he?’





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‘Sir Lancelot, stop it.’ Summer waves her finger at his big eyes set in his squashed, wrinkled face.‘How about you? How’s my favourite cousin doing?’
Lance licks Summer’s finger. She laughs, looks at me. ‘Not so good.’ She bends down to let the pug wriggle free from her arms. ‘Do you know pugs originated in China, dating all the way back to the Han dynasty? And, that Marie Antoinette had a pug called Mops, and Josephine Bonaparte had a pug called Fortune?’
‘They’re definitely a lot of dog in a small body.’ I watch the retreating back of the sturdy little dog with the huge personality as he scampers towards the kitchen, no doubt in search food. ‘And no, I knew none of those bizarre facts. Amazing what you can find on Google, eh?’
Summer chews the corner of her mouth, looks down. ‘Wasn’t Google that told me. It was Grandad.’
I sniff, and smile. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? There wasn’t much Grandad didn’t know something about, was there?’Summer tips her head to the side and laughs, wiping away the lone tear running down her cheek.‘Come here.’ I open my arms and give her a quick, tight hug.
‘So, what’s up then, cuz?’ I ask as we pull apart.
Dragging her hand through her hair, Summer rolls her eyes and sighs. ‘There’s bit of an argument going on in our WhatsApp group,’ she says waving her phone from side to side.
‘Really? What seems to be the problem?’
‘Well, like, Amy said I called Louise fat. Which, like, I didn’t coz it was actually Amy that did. But, like, she doesn’t want Louise to be friends with me, so she, like, also said that Louise said I was ugly. And that I like have a big nose with a ginormous bump in it.’
She does have a nose with a bump in it, like me, like Mum, like Uncle Sean. We’ve all got Grandad’s Roman nose.





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‘Which I, like, know is a lie – not like about my nose, I know I have a big nose – but it’s, like, a lie that Louise said it. But now, like, Louise believes her and so does Taylor and Brittany and Olivia and Bethany–’Oh my actual god, I’m sorry I asked. Was I ever like that? Surely, LIKE, not!
‘Firstly,’ I interrupt, ‘it sounds like a lot of nonsense about nothing. Secondly, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you or your nose. You are beautiful just the way you are. You have the same nose as me, as Grandad, and should be proud of it. And thirdly, instead of all this silly messaging one another, where things get misunderstood, why don’t you ring Louise and, you know, like, actually speak to her. Have a real conversation?’ Bloody hell – now I sound like Mum! What the hell is happening to me?
The wry smile from Aunt Natasha, who looks up from her phone, doesn’t go unnoticed.
Summer closes her eyes, shakes her head. ‘Cassie, you have no idea just how hard it is being a teenager in the twenty-first century.’
I stifle a laugh. ‘Is that right?’
‘Uh-huh.’
Aunt Natasha looks up again and shakes her head. She tells Summer to help Nan in the kitchen and before Summer has time to protest, threatens to take her phone off her for the rest of the evening if she doesn’t do as she’s told.
‘Knew we shouldn’t have bought her a phone,’ Aunt Nat mumbles under her breath as Summer lopes off. Looking down again, Aunt Nat also says something about the police not saying much about how my ex boss died.I wonder? Was it in pain, and fear? Like he caused me and all those other girls. And, more importantly, was he remorseful? ‘I fucking doubt it.’





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Nat looks up again, her forehead wrinkled. ‘Sorry, did you say something, Cas?’I shake my head; think back to the news report on TV that announced Black’s death. I think of his shiny black door, now decorated with crisscrossed yellow and black crime scene tape flapping in the wind. I think of that night and I also think of all those months afterwards when I still worked for him, still allowed him to talk down to me. And the more I think, the more I shake. Rage and fear surge through my body like a strange cocktail of heat and ice. Even in death this arsehole haunts me.
I close my eyes, hold my breath for a count of ten and listen: the muttering of lowered voices, a car turning in the drive next door, the kettle boiling in the kitchen. I open my eyes. Breathe out. Hear the gentle chime of chinking mugs and the sound of someone’s phone ringing before closing my eyes again. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. I do this a couple more times, until I am calm.

Luke is back in the room, on his phone again, texting. Nan is back too, asking again, who wants tea or coffee. Nan without Grandad still sounds wrong. I think of Grandad, his craggy face, feel a sharp tugging at my heart, wonder what he would have made of all this. I hear his voice, ‘Facking good riddance! Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bleedin’ bloke.’
I look at Nan and in my best cockney accent I ask her for ‘a nice cap o’ Rosie Lee.’ Clutching a bright red Christmas tea towel to her chest, Nan nods her head and smiles. I flash her the biggest smile I can manage back.
I don’t give a shit. I’m done with the man. I was a few months ago, if I’m honest. Especially when it looked as though there wouldn’t be enough evidence to go to trial. I would have gone, if there had been, even though I admit, I was frightened. The thought of my life laid bare, for everyone to prod and poke at; I’ve been judged enough. Hunter Black is gone. And he’ll never





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be able to hurt anyone else again. That’s all that matters isn’t it?
And now I can truly move on. Can’t I?
I decide not to give Hunter Black another thought. At least, not today.I tell Nan I’ll give her a hand but jump when my phone rings
– at the same time as a loud banging on the front door. Everyone looks up and Simon, who is still sitting at the table with Uncle Sean, stands up. ‘I’ll get it,’ he says.A quick glance at my phone screen and I press the accept call button and listen. I know it’s Aunt Marie, recognise her voice, but I can barely make out what she is saying. High-pitched and panicky, she’s not screaming but she’s not far from it, either.‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, but she won’t say. She tells me to put Mum on the phone, and as I head towards the kitchen, another loud banging on the front door makes me jump again.Simon brushes past me. ‘All right. All right,’ he calls out. Mum is still talking to Nan. ‘It’s for you,’ I say, thrusting myphone towards her hands.
Mum looks at the phone then looks at me. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Aunt Marie. She sounds upset. Won’t tell me what’s wrong.Asked for you.’
Nan, eyebrow arched, her crinkly blue eyes quizzical and steely, looks from the phone to Mum. ‘Why has she asked for you, Lizzie? What on earth is the matter?’Mum sounds agitated. ‘How do I know, Mum?’
Nan bites her lip, folds her arms. I shrug. Mum lifts the phone to her ear and I notice a slight tremor in her hand. ‘Hi Marie… yes, yes. It’s me. Are you okay? Cassie said– What? I don’t understand. Look, Marie, you need to calm down. I don’t understand. Wait–’
We’re all distracted by raised voices coming from the hallway. ‘For what?’ Simon’s voice, loud and angry, drifts in, talking to whoever it is at the front door. ‘What the hell is this all about?’





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Mum closes her eyes for a second then opens her mouth to speak.Nan throws her tea towel on the side, steps forward. She looks at me and I look at Mum. Simon enters the room. He looks angry, pissed off, even, drags a hand through his salt and pepper hair. Mum still has my phone pressed against one ear, her hand against the other. ‘Okay. You need to keep calm, Marie. I know it is but–’
‘Lizzie,’ Simon interrupts, his voice sharp, demanding. Mum looks up, points to the phone, and looks away again. Simon’s mouth tenses like he’s angry but his eyes, darting from left to right, from me to Nan, then back to Mum, say something else.
I’m filled with a sickening panic. Is that fear I see in Si’s eyes? He steps further into the kitchen and I realise there are two men standing behind him.
‘Lizzie,’ he says again.

Mum swings round, sighs. ‘Hang on a minute, Marie.’ She lowers the phone. ‘What? What the hell is it?’ she snaps.‘Do you know where Connor is?’
‘He went to Jake’s. Why?’
Simon points to the two individuals standing behind him. ‘Apparently the police would like to speak to him.’The colour drains from Mum’s face. She puts the phone back to her ear and stares at the two officers. ‘Marie. Listen to me. The police are here. Yes, the police. I’ll call you back. Yes… No. I promise.’ She places my phone on the kitchen worktop, walks up to Simon, and stares at the two police officers. ‘What the hell is this all about? What on earth do you need to question my son about? Simon – what do they want?’
Simon raises his eyebrows. He looks tired, confused. ‘To help them with their enquires.’‘Enquiries? Enquiries about what?’
Simon takes a deep breath. ‘Hunter Black.’





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Christmas/Winter Holiday Anthology 2019 (Submissions Open Now!)

C a l l  f o r  S u b m i s s i o n

Dear Authors,
Submission for the 2020 Valentine’s day Anthology is now open and we are inviting you to join us.
Theme: Valentine’s Day
Plot:
The story must follow the theme. We are expecting Contemporary Romance – 18+. Your stories can be steamy and erotic (ie., it can contain explicit sexual content). Your stories must not contain or glorify rape or abuse.
Read the below guidelines carefully and submit your stories through our email: editingleindiehouse@gmail.com

   G U I D E L I N E S

Word count –5k to 15k, Font – Times New Roman, Font Size- 12
Font – Times New Roman; Font Size – 12
Contract - 3 years (standard publishing contract length)
Publishing Format - Book will be published in Paperback and Ebook
Author Bio – minimum 100 words
A 100-word introduction to the story

D e a d l i n e
Blurb Submitting Date: 1 October 2019
Contract Sign Submitting Date: Within 4 days after you received.
Manuscript Submission Last Date: 31st October 2019
Cover reveal Date: To be announced
Pre-order Date: To be announced
Publishing Date: February 2020 (Exact date to be announced)
Marketing: The authors will work hand in hand with Editingle on marketing.

Valentine's day Anthology (Submissions Open Now!)

C a l l  f o r  S u b m i s s i o n

Dear Authors,
Submission for the 2020 Valentine’s day Anthology is now open and we are inviting you to join us.
Theme: Valentine’s Day
Plot:
The story must follow the theme. We are expecting Contemporary Romance – 18+. Your stories can be steamy and erotic (ie., it can contain explicit sexual content). Your stories must not contain or glorify rape or abuse.
Read the below guidelines carefully and submit your stories through our email: editingleindiehouse@gmail.com

   G U I D E L I N E S

Word count –5k to 15k, Font – Times New Roman, Font Size- 12
Font – Times New Roman; Font Size – 12
Contract - 3 years (standard publishing contract length)
Publishing Format - Book will be published in Paperback and Ebook
Author Bio – minimum 100 words
A 100-word introduction to the story

D e a d l i n e
Blurb Submitting Date: 1 October 2019
Contract Sign Submitting Date: Within 4 days after you received.
Manuscript Submission Last Date: 31st October 2019
Cover reveal Date: To be announced
Pre-order Date: To be announced
Publishing Date: February 2020 (Exact date to be announced)
Marketing: The authors will work hand in hand with Editingle on marketing.

HALLOWEEN HORROR ANTHOLOGY 2019 (Submissions Open Now!)

C a l l  f o r  S u b m i s s i o n

Dear Authors,
Submissions for the 2019 Halloween Anthology is now open and we are inviting you to join us on our new journey.
Theme: Halloween
Plot:
The story must incorporate the theme Halloween, preferably in the Horror genre. Your stories can be spooky and scary or downright horror. Violence allowed.
Read the below guidelines carefully and submit your stories through our email: editingleindiehouse@gmail.com
G U I D E L I N E S

Word count –3K To 5K
Font – Times New Roman; Font Size – 12
Contract - 3 years (standard publishing contract length)
Publishing Format - Book will be published in Paperback and Ebook
Author Bio – minimum 100 words
A 100-word introduction to the story

D e a d l i n e
Blurb Submitting Date: 1st May 2019
Contract Sign Submitting Date: Within 4 days after you received.
Manuscript Submission Last Date: 31st May 2019
Cover reveal Date: To be announced
Pre-order Date: To be announced
Publishing Date: October 2019 (Exact date to be announced)

Marketing: The authors will work hand in hand with Editingle on marketing.