Shani Struthers's Blog, page 8
January 26, 2015
Congratulations, Zanna!
Join me in welcoming��Zanna Mackenzie onto my blog with her brand new release – And the Earth Moved – a mystery rom com with attitude! I’ve just read it, it was great and my review is further down the page. If you like chick lit then check Zanna out on Amazon. Better than that, go buy the book, settle down with it on a rainy afternoon and enjoy! Here’s what it’s all about.
And The Earth Moved
Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book One
���Romantic comedy meets celebrity murder mystery���
When celebrities need a crime solving quickly and discreetly they call in the specialists, the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency, otherwise known as the CCIA���
One desperate phone call is all it takes to turn Amber���s day from boring to completely crazy.
The call? Her old university boyfriend Ennis, now a heartthrob actor, begs for Amber���s help.
His brother Joel is dead and Ennis has to discover the truth about his death before the world���s media hear about it and batter his door down demanding answers.
The CCIA has already assigned its top agent, Charlie Huxton, to the case.
Amber���s mission? Ennis doesn���t trust a stranger to keep quiet so he pleads with Amber to shadow and help Charlie throughout the investigation. Ennis was her first love and she still has a soft spot for him ��� how can she refuse?
Scarily out of her depth Amber knows she needs to somehow get Charlie on side with her involvement in the case ��� and fast.
Plunged into the world of crime Amber���s battling something darker and far more dangerous than she���d imagined ��� and it has nothing to do with the equally scary chemistry fizzing between her and Charlie.
Will Charlie agree to work with her to find out how and why Joel died?
Can she help uncover the truth before word gets out and an already distraught Ennis is hounded by story-hungry journalists?
Just as importantly, can she keep her sanity and still be alive when the mystery is finally solved?
Extract:
���What kind of excitement are Gemini���s going to have this week?��� I ponder, tapping my fingers against the keyboard.
I���m a third of the way through making up the horoscopes for this week���s local paper. Aries are going to get news of a fantastic job opportunity. Capricorns will receive some kind of windfall. But what about Gemini? I always like to give my Madam Zamber horoscope column an upbeat feel ��� after all, nobody reads their star signs to get depressed right?
My fingers hover over the computer keys as I debate on Gemini���s fate. I���m a Gemini so this one better be especially good; it���s been a rough week.
My phone, nestled somewhere in the depths of my bag, starts playing a chart tune at full volume. When I eventually find it I check the caller display and see Ennis��� name.
Ennis and I haven���t spoken for a while but I know he came home last week after he���d finished working on his latest movie, he sent me a text. He probably wants to meet for a coffee and a catch up. It���s strange; to me Ennis is, well, just Ennis. I don���t think of him as a heartthrob actor, just my ex, my university boyfriend, who I meet up with for a chat whenever he���s in Palstone.
Time for a little break from the horoscopes. I hit the answer button.
���Hi, how���s things?��� I ask, leaning back in my chair.
There���s nothing but silence on the other end of the line.
���Ennis?��� I sit up, instantly concerned. ���Are you there? Is something wrong?���
His voice is so quiet I can barely hear him. ���Joel���s dead,��� he says.
���What?��� I shout, leaping to my feet and earning myself a look of curiosity from the other two members of staff at The Palstone Courier. I lower my voice. ���How? What happened?���
���We don���t know yet,��� he replies, his voice heavy with emotion. ���But the police are saying he died in suspicious circumstances.���
I gulp. ���You mean murder?���
���Look, Amber, can you please come over?��� Ennis says. ���Now? Please? I need to ask you a huge favour.���
I grab my jacket and bag. ���On my way.���
Find the book on Amazon UK
Find the book on Amazon USA
Author bio:
Zanna Mackenzie lives on the Derbyshire/Leicestershire border with her husband, 4 dogs, a vegetable patch that���s home to far too many weeds and an ever expanding library of books waiting to be read.
Being a freelance writer and editor of business publications is her ���day job��� but, at every opportunity, she can be found scribbling down notes on scenes for whatever novel she���s working on. She loves it when the characters in her novels take on minds of their own and start deviating from the original plot!
Find out more about Zanna on her blog http://www.zannamackenzie.blogspot.co.uk, on Twitter via @ZannaMacKenzie or on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/zanna.mackenzie
Find out more about Zanna at:
http://www.zannamackenzie.blogspot.co.uk
Twitter:���� https://twitter.com/ZannaMacKenzie
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/zanna.mackenzie
Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/10703273-zanna-mackenzie
Amazon Author Page – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Zanna-Mackenzie/e/B00BKY1A18/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
My Review
The start of what promises to be a very good series, Amber Reed (also known as Madam Zamber, astrologer in residence on the local paper) is about to get involved in murder! When her ex-boyfriend and local celebrity, Ennis’ brother mysteriously meets his demise, the CCIA are called in. CCIA Operative, Charlie, takes Amber under his wing – she knows the locals and could therefore prove very useful in extracting information from them. From therein the mystery – and the romance – unfolds. The pace is kept up all the way through, the writing fluid and gory details are nicely handled in order to keep it becoming a ‘crime’ novel. And then there’s the characters themselves, nicely drawn – Amber and Charlie have a lot of mileage in them, so it’s a good job this is a series. I didn’t guess who’d done it (normally I can) so that came as a nice (if you can call it that!) surprise. By the end of it, Amber is considering joining the CCIA as an Operative herself – and I suspect the cases are about to get even tougher. Will Charlie remain by her side? Or will new temptations come calling? It’s onto the next book in the series to see…!
January 2, 2015
Eve – An Extract
Joining in the fun with Christmas with the Crooked Cats, here’s my offering! I was supposed to write a short story but time ran out, instead I’ll share the prologue and the first few paragraphs of Chapter 1 of my Work In Progress with you (unedited and very much subject to change!) It’s called Eve and is a spin-off from the Psychic Surveys series, centring around individual cases. The spin-offs will be novellas in length and very dark. Eve is based on a true story, a tragedy that took place in a mining town in America but which I’ve relocated to the UK. Although the opening scene takes place in 1899 on Christmas Eve (a few days before the eve of a new millennium too), the action from Chapter 1 shifts to more recent times, 1999. One hundred years on, the town is still suffering the aftermath of that long ago night, the ghostly aftermath that is and Theo, a character from Psychic Surveys has been called in to investigate, bringing along with her fellow psychic, Ness.
Here we go…
Eve
1899
Christmas: a time of magic, a time of mystery. The season of peace and good will to all men. A time to forget past grudges – if only for a short while – to come together, to be as one with your family, your friends, your neighbours. And Christmas Eve, the most exciting day of all – a day filled to the brim with anticipation, wondering if every happiness will be fulfilled; every desire met. A time of appreciation and deep thankfulness, when the child in each of us comes to the fore and the world seems much lighter suddenly, an exciting place to be.
In the North Yorkshire market town of Thorpe Morton – barren of late, it’s surrounding mining villages stricken by poverty and lost hope – hope had returned. Everyone had gathered together, dressed in their finest attire, the women in dresses kept usually for Sunday service, the men in their trousers and jackets. In the market hall a party was in progress. Outside, a layer of fresh snow had fallen, covering the ground entirely. Inside, so many bodies pressed together created cosy warmth. Men, women, children, grandparents, none had stayed at home. Courtesy of a ceilidh band, music rang out, merry jigs that people danced to, arm in arm, round and round, laughter transforming careworn faces. In-between them children darted, engaged in games of tag, sticky hands out stretched before them. Chairs that lined the walls were fully occupied, tables too, toes tapping rhythmically against bare floorboards. In the lamplight, cheap and gaudy decorations looked neither cheap nor gaudy but beautiful, like bright stars in an ebony sky. St Nicholas was expected; in his sack there might even be presents – one for each family. Any minute now, any minute he’d be here.
“Fire!” The shout came from below. “There’s a fire!”
Only a few people heard but those that did stopped. Others soon joined them. Smiling ceased, the twirling too; fiddles and accordion ground to a halt.
“For God’s sake, save yourselves!”
People turned to look at each other, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and then, one by one, like a wave almost, expressions changed.
In the now expectant silence, the cry was loud and clear.
“The building, it’s burning!”
Footsteps, tentative at first, started rushing, moving forward; stampeding.
And as they did, all hell broke loose.
Chapter One
1999
“Bloody hell, it’s cold,” Theo complained, getting out of her car and pulling her coat tight around her. Considering the bulk of her frame and that each and every stitch of her padded jacket was already doing its duty, this was no mean feat.
“It’s the north, it’s England, it’s mid-December, what do you expect?”
Theo turned to look at her solemn-faced friend.
“I expected nothing less,” she replied, peevishly so, she had to admit. But when Ness would get a sense of humour was anyone’s guess. From the minute they’d left Lewes, she’d sat in the passenger seat, staring out of the window, hardly bothering to converse. A quiet lady, and one whom she’d only recently met, their psychic ability bonded them. It was rare to encounter someone as ‘gifted’ as herself, if ‘gift’ it could be called. Sometimes she thought so, sometimes she didn’t. Ness, she guessed, erred on the side of the ‘didn’t’. But what her experiences were, Theo didn’t know. And Ness, it seemed, wasn’t telling. She was a closed book, as closed as Theo was open.
Trudging from the car to the guesthouse, Theo baulked at the name.
“Sunny Side, it adds insult to injury doesn’t it?”
“How so?” Ness asked.
Was she deliberately being facetious? “The weather,” she pointed out, again.
“Have you holidayed here in the summer?”
“No.”
“It might be less of a misnomer then.”
Theo remained undeterred. “Even so, in the depths of winter they should consider another handle, something more apt. Bleak Side I’m thinking.” Pushing her way past Ness, she added, “Come on, let’s get inside, before we join the spirit world too, as frozen popsicles no less. There’s snow forecast for this region tonight. I refused to believe it when we left Lewes; it was so clement down there. But I believe it now, with every fibre of my being. You can almost smell it approaching.”
Sunny Side was typical of guesthouses in the area. Rustic but not entirely without charm. As much as she would have liked to book the nearby – and far more imaginatively named – Ox Pasture Hall, more of a country manor than a hotel, set in seventeen acres of ‘enchanting’ garden according to the blurb, Theo had had to make do with this one. Although she’d been asked to come along and investigate ‘unusual activity’, it was not for monetary gain, rather it was for altruistic reasons, and, of course, to gain further understanding of the psychic world. All manner of phenomena occurred hereabouts apparently, including voices heard in empty rooms, sensations of being watched and cold spots appearing randomly. Just recently it had become more intense. Lightbulbs had burst overhead, objects hurled across rooms and doors slammed as if in temper. Nightmares too, they plagued everyone, especially the children, so many woke screaming.
“Sounds interesting,” Ness had said, when Theo had discussed it with her one evening in their local pub. “Who asked you?”
A friend of a friend, Theo had explained – it seemed every friend she knew in turn knew a friend with ‘problems’. Spirits, they plagued the natural world. This friend of a friend, a resident of Thorpe Morton, a town located in a direct line inland from the coast at Scarborough, seemed to be in particularly dire need.
December 30, 2014
The Runaways are Back…!
Well, what a December this one turned out to be! Not one but two book launches and oh, yeah, that’s right, a little thing called Christmas – not so little when you’ve got three kids champing at the bit for it!!!
Paranormal mystery – Jessamine – launched on the 9th December. Set in the highlands of Scotland it concerns ghosts – both in a metaphorical and actual sense. And then, on Christmas Eve, it was the turn of the Runaways. Yep, The Runaway Ex – sequel to The Runaway Year – is now officially out in the big wide world. Woo hoo! Drum roll please and whatever other jubilations you care to throw at it!
Grittier than the first one, it concerns the same set of characters, Layla, Joseph, Penny, Richard, Hannah and Jim. But there’s a new girl on the scene too, Tara, or rather a blast from the past (remember her from The Runaway Year anyone? She was mentioned – twice in fact!). And her surprise presence is set to blow them all to kingdom come! There are actually some big themes explored in The Runaway Ex, post-natal depression not least amongst them. The others, well… I can’t tell you without giving the game away. You’ll just have to read it and see.
Here’s the blurb:
The Runaways are back…
For Layla Lewis, life is finally back on track. After her “runaway year” in Cornwall, another year has passed—an idyllic year spent with sexy new love, Joseph Scott, in the sultry heat of Florence. For best friend, Penny, life has also changed. Having recently given birth to a baby girl, she’s busy embracing motherhood. But, for the runaways, life is never that easy…
A chance encounter with Joseph’s ex-girlfriend, Tara, has explosive consequences for the new lovers, and all three are forced back to Cornish shores. Meanwhile, motherhood is not the joy Penny thought it would be—she’s heading for a breakdown and fast!
The bubble is burst, the idyll shattered.
Tara has a secret and only Joseph knows what it is. Despite being asked to trust him, Layla can’t help but question what the secret is and what it has to do with them. As Penny arrives in Cornwall too, some friends will pull together, others will not.
This secret, Layla suspects, will tear them all apart.
And here’s an excerpt:
Quickly Joseph fell into step beside her.
“Before you say it—” She couldn’t keep her voice from sounding waspish. “Yes, I do trust you. You’re the one that’s paranoid, not me.”
“I’m not paranoid,” Joseph immediately retaliated. “I just get the feeling you’re not being honest with me, that’s all. You say you trust me but I’m not sure you do.”
Oh, and you blame me for that, do you? she thought, but refrained from saying it. Acting the harridan every time Tara’s name was mentioned was not going to endear her to anyone. Still, there was no way she was not going to stand up for herself.
“Joseph,” she said, coming to a standstill outside Uncle Davy’s Cabin, fine purveyors of fish and chips, or so the sign above the black painted door would have you believe. “Just cut me a bit of slack, okay? Tara turns up out of the blue, the one place in the world where you happen to be and you just happen to bump into her.” Briefly she paused. It reminded her of a line from that film, what was it? Casablanca with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. ‘Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.’ The fact it was a romantic film, a romantic sentiment, irked her even more, but she bit down on that for now. “You then tell me you want her to accompany us back to Trecastle, because she’s in trouble, because she has a secret and not just any secret, but a big secret, a VIP one. Because of it she can’t face coming home alone; she needs a chaperone. I accept all this. And that you can’t tell me what this so-called secret is until the time is right. I also accept that you want me to trust you and I’m willing to trust you because I love you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you and I never will. But every now and then, I get a bit antsy about it. Don’t worry though, because I remind myself who I’m doing this for—you, not her.” She cocked her head to one side. “And you know what? In some ways I admire you. What you’re prepared to do for a… friend. But, whatever way you want to look at it, it’s a strange situation. The kind you find in books and think, yeah, right, as if. So forgive me if my enthusiasm wanes every now and then. Like I said, cut me some slack. Because you know what? That’s exactly what I’m doing for you.”
Layla would bet a pound to a penny the look of surprise on his face reflected her own. The pent-up feelings in her since finding out about Tara had obviously needed release—more so than even she had realized. Holding his gaze, she refused to look away. Nonetheless, her breath caught in her throat as she waited for his reaction.
Incredibly, he laughed.
If you want to see what all the mayhem and madness is about, here’s the buy links on Amazon:
I can also be found on Facebook and Twitter – see you there!
ps The Runaways are written in American English, as they’re published by American publishing company, Omnific Publishing – they’re not spelling mistakes, honest (at least not in America!).
December 19, 2014
Writer’s Block? Not on my Watch! Guest Post from Elke Feuer.
Elke – author of For the Love of Jazz, Deadly Bloodlines and A Kind of Mad Courage, talks about every author’s dread – Writer’s Block! Take it away, Elke…
I don’t believe in writer’s block! There, I said it. I’ve been stonewalled for saying those words, but it’s the truth. Hear me out before you pick up those rotten tomatoes.
I have a full-time job, but my goal is for writing to be my dominant career. We’ve all worked in jobs we didn’t enjoy or even hated, but we showed up and worked right? You’ve never shown up at your job and said to your boss, “I don’t feel like working today ‘cause I’m not feeling it, right?”
Writing is a creative and artistic process, but many writers don’t treat writing like a job because they feel it’s take away from creativity of it. Not true! The more I write the more I love it! Is there times I’d rather pluck out my eyeballs and dip them in acid than sit down to write about characters who aren’t speaking or work on a story I’m no longer excited about? Sure! Here’s what I do to get passed it to my happy writing place again.
WRITING IS A JOB
Give your writing time the same respect as your job. Sit down and get to work whether you feel like it or not. Those first few minutes will be torturous, but you’ll get to you’ll start to enjoy it once you push through the pain.
CHANGE IT UP
You got your butt in the seat and stayed there for hours, maybe even days, and still nothing? Try mixing it up. Go for a walk, watch a movie and study the plot, characters arcs, and dialogue. Read a book that inspires you, or try writing in a different location in your house or at a coffee shop. Sometimes a simple change(s) can spark your creativity.
KEEP AT IT
If days go by and still nothing, don’t give up! Muses can be a pain to whip into shape and getting them to cooperate takes longer than we’d like, but don’t let her win. Assert yourself and show her you’re the boss.
The important thing to remember is that writing isn’t easy and like anything artistic, takes time, effort and dedication, so keep at it and you’ll reap the rewards. You got this!
______________________________________
Elke Feuer
Writing with island flair
Find out about Elke at her Website and on Amazon. And connect with her on Facebook, Twitter and via newsletter
Meanwhile, here’s an excerpt from Deadly Race – her latest novel!
“I didn’t really have a relationship with her. She was someone I wanted, but she didn’t know how I felt until an hour ago.” Would she decide to kick him out of her apartment for either leading her on or being a complete ass?
She gripped the couch tightly and it collapsed beneath her hands. Her eyes narrowed to slits and her mouth twisted in anger. Here comes her emotional eruption. He braced himself.
“You put me through all of that for nothing?” She said it with so much control he wondered where she got it.
“It wasn’t nothing to me,” he reasoned.
“Wasn’t nothing? Do you know how many times I felt guilty because you had a girlfriend, or know how many nights I lay awake imagining I’d go to hell for the dirty thoughts I had about you in this apartment, inside and outside your car, even the examination table in your office?” She paced before him.
Jackson was speechless, and turned on, as he thought about everything she’d just mentioned. He remembered the night she kissed him in the car and wondered what would’ve happened if they hadn’t been interrupted, or if they’d been in a secluded area instead of outside her apartment.
“Hey!” she shouted, pulling him from his erotic thoughts of her spread out over the roof of his car.
“Stop that! You don’t get to have a fantasy in the middle of my rant. Got it?” Her index finger pointed at him.
He wanted to smile, but knew she’d probably knock his lights out if he did. “Please continue,” he said as politely and seriously as he could.
“Why couldn’t you be honest with me?” She ran a hand through her hair.
Honest about that? She couldn’t be serious? “Honest about wanting someone I hadn’t even told how I felt? I hardly knew you, Remy, and you wanted me to share something I’d kept secret for nearly two years?”
“Two years?” Her voice echoed in disbelief.
It sounded ridiculous to hear it out loud.
She must’ve thought so, too, because she laughed. It started as a light chuckle, but then escalated to full, out loud, boisterous laughter until it was so extreme she fell to the floor behind the couch.
He walked over to where she lay. “It’s not that funny,” he insisted.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and laughed harder.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this at my expense.” He extended a hand to help her up, but she waved it away as another fit of laughter overtook her. “You might not believe this, but I’m incredibly shy.”
She roared louder and gestured with her hand for him to stop talking.
He couldn’t blame her for laughing. He’d been anything but shy around her. She had a knack for bringing out emotions in him that were less than passive, with her audaciousness and that unfiltered mouth of hers.
Founder of Caywriters
A company dedicated to promoting and nurturing writers in the Cayman Islands from childhood to adulthood
November 27, 2014
ONE NIGHT IN AMSTERDAM by Jaz Hartfield
Welcome to the blog today, Jaz Hartfield! Author of One Night in Amsterdam, an adult romance (and yes I do mean a little bit of erotica for you there folks!) he’s popping along today to share an excerpt with us as well as what inspired him to write it! I absolutely adore Amsterdam and have spent many a happy weekend there myself (sightseeing of course!!!). So, take it away, Jaz, lets hear what’s it all about…
‘One Night in Amsterdam’ is an adult romance following a stag and a hen party as they explore the city’s Red-Light District. The characters experience the hedonism full on, getting increasingly drunk on lager and on the extremes of pleasure offered round every corner. Many visitors feel out of their comfort zone here and react in bizarre ways. Dean and Chloe, in particular, have their past, ‘safe’ lives thrown into turmoil. ‘One Night in Amsterdam’ attempts to distinguish between love and lust.
Amsterdam is a weird and wonderful city, most famous for its Red-Light District (Rosse buurt) and the 200 cannabis coffee shops scattered through it. But there is also Anne Frank’s House, plus some of the best examples of Renaissance and baroque architecture. The canals of Amsterdam are a world heritage site, whilst the Rijksmuseum and the Van Gogh Museum are two of the finest art galleries in the world. (Not to mention the Sex Museum, Venustempel, which is a hilarious journey through erotic art and inventions through the centuries).
Amsterdam is one of the most popular European destinations for tourists, mostly because of the 16 million day-trippers who visit every year. De Wallen is the most famous part of the Red-Light District, where prostitution has been legalised. The network of alleys contains hundreds of cabins where sex-workers ply their trade, by standing behind glass doors in their underwear. The area also contains sex shops, theatres and peep shows. The effect can be rather overwhelming.
A city of bewildering contrasts, intriguing culture and challenging experiences, I once visited Amsterdam on a stag weekend myself, and it was certainly a weekend I will never forget… for many different reasons!
I’m sure, Jaz!!! Okay, here’s the blurb:
Chloe organizes Jo’s hen weekend in Amsterdam, glad to get away from the usual boring or married men that she sleeps with. Perhaps she’ll meet some cool guys up for a bit of fun. If not, at least she’ll make sure her best friend gets very drunk while they all party in style.
Dean is getting married to Tamsin, but having serious doubts. His mates take him to Amsterdam for one last weekend of debauchery before settling down for the rest of his life. But is Tamsin the right woman for him?
When Chloe and Dean meet in Amsterdam’s red-light district, they are immediately attracted to each other. Dean tries to justify one last fling before marrying Tamsin. Chloe feels bad about having sex with someone else’s intended. Yet, a night of amazing sex is exactly what both of them want. So, why shouldn’t they just enjoy one night of fantastic, guilt-free sex?
And what we’ve all been waiting for, an excerpt:
There came a knock on the door.
Chloe jumped up to let in Jo and Glynis. Everyone fell silent on sight of Jo’s sister, with her ever-judgemental stare.
Glynis cleared her throat. “So what’s the plan, Chloe? We should get going and not waste time.”
“The plan is to get pissed and get laid,” Chloe replied.
“You sound like fifteen year old schoolgirls,” Glynis said with a sniff. “Hope you’ve brought plenty of protection with you. Perhaps we should ask Joanna what she’d like to do. After all, it’s her weekend.”
“Oh God, who brought Miss Boring along?” Di groaned.
“Oi! That’s my sister. You watch your big gob—”
“Girls! Stop it.” Chloe stood between them all as the self-appointed mediator. “Let’s not get bitchy before the weekend has even begun. Maybe Glynis is right.” She turned to Di with a warning look.
“Whatever,’ said Di with a tone of resignation.
“You tell ‘em, sis,” Glynis said, as all eyes turned to the bride-to-be.
Jo studied each of them in turn, cranking up the anticipation. She tapped her lips in deep thought, and opened them as if to speak and then stopped. The others leaned in slightly to catch her words.
“I think we should…” Jo moved over to the double bed and sat down next to Ushma. “That is…it seems that, well, Glynis has a point about being responsible and staying in control…”
Glynis smirked and leaned smugly back against the wardrobe.
“But on the other hand,” Jo continued, “we’re in Amsterdam – city of debauchery – on my hen weekend. So I say we go out on the lash, get completely hammered, watch beautiful men ripping off their underwear and go and flirt with some horny guys.”
“Woohoo!” Chloe and Di screamed, rushing over towards Jo. Ushma joined them in a group hug.
Jo beckoned to her sister. “Come on, Glynis. We’re not married women like you. We’re still young, free and single – well only just for me, anyway. And I’m gonna bloody well enjoy this weekend. So come on, ma bitches. Let’s get out there and own this city.”
Even Glynis joined in the singing of Lady Gaga songs as they marched arm-in-arm down the corridor, stairs and through the reception, waving at the bemused receptionist.
Chloe used her mobile to track down the right tram to get them to Dam Square, on the outskirts of the infamous Red Light District, known locally as Rosse buurt. It was a clear, bright day with lots of people sitting outside eating, drinking or strolling along in groups and couples. The extensive canal network punctuated the roads with bridges, barges and houseboats. Market stalls added colour and life to various cobbled squares. Chloe had also read that many of the buildings were from as long ago as the fourteenth century, but she didn’t think this would interest the others. The Red Light District didn’t really come to life until it got dark, although it was easy to find signs and evidence of seedy nightlife and practices.
Chloe found a cash machine and prayed that it wouldn’t swallow up her card. Thankfully, it allowed her to take out fifty Euros, to add to what she’d already brought. She didn’t dare try for any more.
They wandered through a few lanes until Chloe suddenly shrieked outside a shop with a window display of condoms, vibrators and various sex toys.
“I guess we’re in the Rosse buurt then,” she said.
“We’ve found our first tarts,” Jo quipped, drooling over the gateaux and pastries. They all stared greedily at the chocolate fondue fountain, with molten chocolate waterfalling down a glass sheet.
“What a choice, eh?” Chloe said, standing where the shops joined and looking from one to the next, as if watching a tennis match. “Sex or chocolate?”
Author bio:
Jaz Hartfield is a writer and actor who loves travelling. He’s always looking for his next thrill, having tried bungee-jumping, parachuting, white-water rafting, pot-holing and deep sea diving. Jaz has lived in many different places; his favourite parts of the world include New Zealand, Kenya, Ireland and the Lake District in England. Having been on a stag weekend in Amsterdam, Jaz is unwilling to admit whether this story has elements of the truth in it or not.
Jaz on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005224159430
Purchase Links:
November 25, 2014
Love, Loss and Location – Jessamine
My third book – Jessamine – will be released by Crooked Cat Publishing on the 9th December – but what’s it all about? Well, the blog title sums it up pretty well. It’s about love, loss and location, but it’s also about being haunted by the ghosts of the past. Yep, Jessamine is supernatural but subtly so.
First up, the location – it’s set in the misty, mysterious highlands of Scotland, in a fictional village called Glenelk, on the west coast of Scotland, overlooking the Isle of Skye. A bleak but beautiful place, it suits the story’s content perfectly.
Next is love – the most powerful force in the universe and something that drives our lives. But we’re not just talking romantic love here, we’re talking about the love that exists between friends and family, that spawns loyalty and the need to protect, about ties that bind us through the generations, that shape us, help us to evolve. But what happens when that which we love the most, is lost? How do we cope with the grief that ensues?
The tagline for Jessamine is:
One village, four people and the ghosts of generations.
And yes, all four characters – Jessamin, Fionnlagh Maccaillin, Maggie and Stan – are haunted in one way or another. Having come together from opposite ends of the country, what is the mystery that unites them? Can they help each to move on and, if not let the past go, find some way of living with it?
An emotional rollercoaster, I’m very proud of Jessamine. Yes, it’s dark and ghostly, but it’s very human too. As for tissues? I’d have a box on stand-by if I were you! My editor described it as ‘a fine example of modern gothic – a ‘Wuthering Heights’ for the 21st Century.’ Heathcliff and Cathy, I suppose you’d better move on over, the new kids are in town!
To whet your appetite, here’s a short excerpt:
His anguish concerned her. “Stan…”
“Och, don’t mind me. I’m getting maudlin is all.”
“Stan, how could you think I’d mind? Of course I don’t.”
Furtively, she studied his face. He seemed so tired of late. The cough he’d developed was wearing him down. Into the lines of his face, his entire life seemed etched – a good life at times she knew but also painful, like any long life. No one sailed through the years unscathed. She felt bad she’d mentioned Flo’s death, Mally’s leaving again; there was no need to wallow in sadness and she said as much.
“You’re right, dear. Concentrate on happy times. Why not? We can’t go back. We can’t change things.”
If only we could.
“And when the sun is shining, it’s an easy thing to do. But, and I expect you know this as well as I do, it’s the dead of night you have to watch out for, when the wind is howling, when the rain pelts relentlessly against your bedroom window, when sleep refuses to indulge you. That’s when the bad memories rear up, when they demand their fair share of attention too.” He shuddered. “The dead of night, it’s an accurate description.”
Jessamin turned to face the old man fully. “Stan, you’re worrying me.”
“No, dear, there’s no need to worry.”
“Despite what I said about concentrating on the good stuff, you can tell me anything, you know that don’t you? Whatever it is… I’m here for you. I’m on your side.”
There were tears in his eyes. Quickly, Jessamin reached out a hand to comfort him. He took it, his grip surprisingly firm – desperation lending him strength perhaps. Her breath caught in her throat. What was he going to say? What had upset him so much?
When at last he spoke, his words chilled her.
“The dead of night, Jess, I wish they’d leave me alone.”
November 21, 2014
Goth Town, Jesse Giles Christiansen and Yo Ho Ho!
It’s coming up to Christmas and in the book world, that can mean only one thing – it’s time to invest in a few Christmas novellas. And yeah, there’s all the usual sugar sweet ones out there (I should know, I’ve got a load on my Kindle) but there’s also Jesse’s – the much darker Goth Town! As a teenage Goth myself, it’s a title I wish I’d dreamt up I can tell you, but I didn’t, he did and it looks like a corker. The man himself has forwarded me the prologue so I can share it with you on my blog. Jesse is the author of The Captain Shelby Triology series, a brilliantly atmospheric set of seafaring paranormal books, set in the Deep South of America. I’ve read the first (actually whilst in the Deep South – I saved it especially) and loved it. This is my next read and I know it’s going to rock! Take it away Jesse!
GOTH TOWN
PROLOGUE
JAKE RAYNER is the only one, other than Samantha Bryant, who had the vision.
He’ll never forget the first time it happened. He was out for a walk in the woods by himself, a practice highly discouraged by the Overseers.
He was always surprised at how little everyone questioned the rules of the Overseers. Many of them seemed so ridiculous. Then again, they owed everything to them. There would have been no life here at all, if not for them.
That afternoon the hazy air was happy and it seemed to seep into everything. Jake was reckless to allow it to seep into him. His feet, his legs, his fingers, even his thoughts, were reckless.
I know they’re going to find me. I just know it. Then they’re going to hook me up to the Recalibration Machine again.
But that day he didn’t care about a single thing. He was mad with life. Life was mad in his veins. Life was livid in his veins.
Everything spoke to him. The birds’ songs were like shrilly operas stuck in fortissimo. The creek sneaking along by his side crackled and popped the way a long-asleep radio wakes up hungry and eager to play. The wind in the pines moaned softly like a lonely lover.
Then it happened.
He felt dizzy at first, his head so light he thought it might float away. Something surged inside him that could have been swallowed lightning, rising, writhing, and climbing up to his head.
The memory came.
Memories were demons; they were even more forbidden than being all alone; they were not allowed to even start. When they went in for their weekly screening, any evidence of memories prior to the Anti-Emotion Movement was immediately erased. It was for their own good. Really. They had to believe in the Overseers. They gave them everything, and asked for so little in return. The Overseers picked them up after the Great Fog.
He just stood there and could not stop the memory. Oh, it was so warm. That swallowed lightning curled up, balled up in his head and took to nuclear fusion, forming a miniature sun to melt all the work of the entire Overseers’ brilliant technology.
But what an afternoon it was.
The first flash was of shiny boxes wrapped in fancy bows under a tree that someone had stuck in a living room. What a bizarre image. Why would someone put a perfectly good tree in a living room? Perfect madness. Perfect madness, indeed. And the poor, poor tree.
The tree was wrapped with winking lights, and as he stood there, letting this memory take root, he could see the pines around him dressed the same. They were beautiful, and he overflowed with the urge to take all the pines in the forest, shrink them down, and put them into everyone’s homes.
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
He heard footsteps, and the beautiful, horrible, absurd memory vanished. The memory vanished like the scent of a woman riding with you on a train—a woman you know you will never see again.
He waited for the Goth Town Police to arrest him. And he cherished those seconds as the taste of a curious and wild memory remained for a few seconds on his lips. Those few seconds were more blissful than the rambunctious air that crept all through the forest that afternoon and shot rays of perilous hope into everything. In those few seconds, he tried to chase the echo that was home to that taste. That scent of a woman on a train. He tried to return to it with the desperation of a legless man waking from a Boston Marathon dream.
But at least the taste was there when they handcuffed him.
At least the flicker.
A gray haunt … at least …
If you want to read more, head on over Amazon to check Jesse out or click on the links below! 
Web Site: www.jessegileschristiansen.com
Blog: www.jgchristiansen.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JesseGilesChris
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jesse.gileschristiansen.7
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5261095.Jesse_Giles_Christiansen
October 29, 2014
Meet the Author – Carol Anne Hunter and ‘Project Me’
A big hello and welcome this fine Wednesday morning to Carol Anne Hunter – author of the recently published Project Me (Crooked Cat Publishing). This debut novel is already pulling in great reviews and I’ve got it on my kindle, ready to go! Carol Anne, take it away – tell us all about you, your book and what inspired you to write it…
Hello back atcha!
I’m an Edinburgh girl who has been divorced for twenty years and is her mum’s carer. I never had children of my own but have a great relationship with my step-daughter and her family, who live nearby. Seven years ago I jumped at the chance of early retirement from the Civil Service, my only worry being boredom. But it opened up a whole new life for me of writing and socialising and being a lady what does lunch, although I do have a wee part-time job in my local golf club behind the bar. Imagine, no budgets, deadlines or targets or focus groups – bliss!
And your latest news…?
Project Me launched on 9 September and so far people have been kind enough to post good reviews. I’m hosting a ‘Come and Meet The Author’ event at Dalkeith Library on 25th November as part of Book Week Scotland, and Midlothian Libraries are in the process of organizing a library tour for me. I was a guest on the Geoff Ruderham show on Black Diamond radio this week and will be on the afternoon show next week, too. It’s all down to chancing my arm and giving them a call. See? Having a brass neck works!
When and why did you begin writing?
I wrote my first ‘book’ aged ten for a family member who had dyslexia, which wasn’t recognized back then. Well, it was more of a pamphlet. It didn’t help at all but that was my first attempt. From childhood I’ve written comedy poems tailored to a specific person or event but I always thought of it as quirk. I didn’t take my writing seriously until I joined a creative writing class at Edinburgh University in 2010.
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Not until after Project Me launched when someone asked what I did for a living. I said I worked part-time at the golf club then had to add the addendum that actually, I’d just had my first book published and they said, ‘Oooh, you’re a novelist.’ Who, me? Boy, was that a shock.
What inspired you to write your first book?
I wrote six short stories based on silly events in my life and blew them out of all proportion for comic effect. Then I realized I could weave them together into a bigger story with a main character. And so the process began. Four of the stories were cut during the edits but I’m not saying which two remained in the storyline, I’ll leave that to the imagination of the reader. Regarding writing style, I love word-play and imagery and I hope that comes over in my writing. If I hear someone use an expression or phrase that tickles me, I write it down. I don’t always use them but they keep my mind running on the right track.
Project Me – it’s a great title, how did you come up with it?
Someone asked what the book was about and I told them it was a fifty-year old woman’s attempt to change her life in stages, almost a middle-aged ‘project me’. As soon as the words were out, I knew I’d found my title. A lot of the individual events are based on events myself or my friends have gone through. I’ve ‘cartooned’ them, if you like, to make them funny, or sad, or poignant.
So the moral of the story is?
You can re-invent yourself at any age; you just need to be brave enough to go for it.
I like it! What books have most influenced your life most?
There are so many. I love everything by William McIllvanney. His prose is almost poetic, his characterisations razor-sharp and he’s my personal Master of the Metaphor. ‘Swing Hammer Swing’ by Jeff Torrington is an amazing account of Tam Clay’s last weekend in a Glasgow tenement before the bulldozers arrive; ‘Sitting Among the Eskimos’ by Maggie Graham is a gritty and very funny account of a mature student’s struggle to have her family accept what she’s doing. Those are just for starters.
And what books are you reading now?
I’m almost at the end of Independent Jenny by Sarah Louise Smith and about to start Under a Silent Moon by Elizabeth Haynes.
Any new authors you want to tell us about?
I read ‘Falling Fast’ by Neil Broadfoot, and loved it. It was nominated for the Deanston Crime Novel of the Year at the Bloody Scotland crimewriting festival, no mean feat for a debut novel.
We know you like a project, so what have you got on the boil right now?
I’m part-way through writing a sequel to ‘Project Me’, working title ‘The Pia Protocol’. It’s a slow process because I’m also caring for my mum, who has dementia. I’ve had a lot of support though in my new venture. My publisher, Crooked Cat, has built an online community who share experiences, give great advice and help promote each other’s work. I also met a local DJ from Black Diamond FM when I was a guest on his show and he networked with colleagues from other stations to arrange for them to interview me on air, too. And Thomas Reagan from Midlothian Library Service is working away in the background, organizing events around Book Week Scotland for me. People have been amazingly kind.
Sometimes the writing flows, sometimes it doesn’t – what ‘writerly’ challenges have you encountered?
Achieving ‘flow’, that state when the words are fed to you from another source and you just need to keep writing until it’s done. It happened once just after my head hit the pillow and after putting the light on several times to make notes I gave in, got up and switched the computer on and wrote until 5am. The result became the opening chapter of Project Me. I have a habit of writing lots of individual scenes as they happen in my head, and then I have to figure out where they all go and adjust the storyline accordingly. It’s a bit like doing a jigsaw, you have to make sure the pieces fit! What I’ve learnt from completing a work of novel length is don’t waffle, get to the point. Also, don’t try to control the characters, let them have a life of their own. Ditto, the storyline.
And what would you say to writers just starting out?
Never give up. Keep reading, keep learning, and keep writing.
Good advice! Other than writing do you have any hobbies?
Writing has taken over my life so no, not any more! I’ve had loads over the years – glass-painting, cake decorating, tarot reading, dressmaking – but I don’t have the time now.
If you were not a writer what else would you like to have done?
I’m not sure, but it would’ve been something rather than nothing. Boredom has always been my enemy.
Thanks Carol, it’s been great getting to know you! To find out more and/or order a copy of the book (available as a download and in paperback), just click on the links below.
https://www.facebook.com/carol.hunter.357
https://twitter.com/carolannehunter
Combined website/blog – www.carolannehunter.co.uk
October 22, 2014
Feel the Fear…
Feel the fear and do it anyway… a phrase coined by Susan Jeffers in her book of the same name, it’s one that pops into my head on a regular basis. And just as well! When I started out on this whole business of writing books, around two years ago, I had visions of me in my lonely garret, creating fabulous worlds of fiction that would be effiortlessly published and with even less effort sold around the world. And then came the reality check. Yes, my books got published (I currently have two available and a further two coming out in December) but what I wasn’t prepared for was all the writerly trimmings!
First up there’s the publicising. You’ve written a book, it’s available on Amazon and in certain book shops up and down the country – but then again, so are zillions of others. So, what do you have to do? You have to shout about it! To friends, to family, on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Linkedin, the list is endless. And you have to continue to shout, despite being terrified everyone is hating the sound of your shouty voice, because that’s what writers have to do nowadays, they have to double up as sales gurus. There’s no point in creating something if you’re not prepared to advertise it, everyone with a ‘product’ has to advertise. The mantra – feel the fear and do it anyway – is proving very useful so far.
Second up is being invited to book clubs, to book signings, on the radio and you have to speak. I like speaking as much as the next person but I’m talking public speaking here – getting up in front of a crowd, being the centre of attention, trying to appear confident and bubbly when really you’re a quivering wreck inside. The mantra goes on overdrive.
Last but not least – the reviews!!! Oh God, the reviews. Every time I see there’s another one I scroll down the Amazon page in fear and trembling – what the heck have they said now? To be honest, I’ve been lucky, really lucky, the vast majority of reviews for both The Runaway Year and The Haunting of Highdown Hall have been brilliant. I’m always humbled by how people take time out of their busy lives to write such lovely things. However… there’s always one – the one star that is, or the two star, someone who’s ripped into the book, torn it apart. When it first happened I felt like hanging up my hat, despite the fact they were far outweighed by the good ‘uns. Now, I tend to take it on the chin. After all, even the best amongst us gets an occasional one star sometimes and when you put your book in the hands of the public – to be savaged or adored, savaged or adored it will be. In this instance, it’s a case of feel the fear and read it anyway!
I know I’m not the only author to feel this way but onwards we trudge, keeping not only the mantra in mind but also that writing is a journey, there’ll be ups along the way, there’ll be downs. Sometimes you’ll need to fasten your seat belts, other times you can cruise quite happily. And ultimately, if you enjoy the ride, keep on driving.
June 2, 2014
Tree Hugging, Motorbikes and the Goddess – an interview with Ailsa Abraham
Esteemed author of the award-nominated Shaman’s Drum and it’s prequel, Alchemy – first of all Ailsa, we want to know about YOU! Where do you live, what inspires you, your favourite pastime (which I think has something to do with motorbikes if I’m not mistaken?!)
Thanks for inviting me, Shani. I live in a tiny little village half way up a mountain in the middle of nowhere in Eastern France about two hours’ drive from the Swiss border. It’s very quiet but has loads of forest, a river, all the things a nature-lover like me thrives on.
What inspires me? Oh crikey, everything! I get lots of ideas while walking around the footpaths with my dogs. People-watching inspires me. I have developed whole books out of one scene that came to me while I was sitting out back drinking tea. I tend to think in film clips. I also have a habit of practising dialogue while out walking so I look a bit weird chatting to myself in two voices.
Pastimes? Yes, my motorbikes are one of my passions but I also run an orphanage for homeless teddy bears, I knit and crochet all the time and I’m an animal rights activist. At the moment I’m trying to teach myself the bamboo flute but that is proving painful for all concerned.
Aha, my mother tried to teach me the Peruvian nose flute, honestly! I never took to it though. Okay, now your books. What are they about and which characters do you particularly love and why?
Alchemy is the first and Shaman’s Drum is the second in a trilogy. Fundamentally they are about real-time magic and human nature. How, even when a perfect solution seems to have been found to the current problems ecological, military, terrorist etc., then there will still be battles to be fought. No matter how perfect the world is, someone will want to screw it up through greed or ignorance. I love all my characters. Some because they are heroic and wonderful. Others because they are totally ordinary but get caught up doing extraordinary things. One in particular I love because she is like me – a wrinkly Rebel with a smelly dog. In my books, magic is an everyday thing (probably because it is in my life). Magic-users are people you could meet queuing up for a takeaway pizza. They just have a skill, like being musical or able to paint.
You wrote the prequel second, how very Star Wars of you! Why was this? And is there a third book to come that we can all get our teeth into?
I never expected there to be a prequel. Shaman’s Drum was my first foray into fantasy literature, a stand-alone story and I was delighted when Crooked Cat Publishing took it on. The prequel came about purely by the public asking for it. Without the background, readers felt they didn’t know enough and said that I should fill in the back-story. Now, of course, one can read them in order and yes, the final one (I think) has a working title of Reunion and I’m doing it now.
I happen to know you’ve got a brother who is literary too – Cameron – can we have him in the spotlight on him temporarily please?
OK. Cam here. I started writing before Ailsa and am published by MLRPress. (over 18s only) I write detective fiction but my two heroes are Military Police investigators and they are gay. I write about them doing their jobs very well and the best reviews I have had is that my books show gay guys in ordinary circumstances and being very good at their work. Had they been a straight couple of detectives on a Sunday evening TV show and they had ended up in bed together, nobody would turn a hair but as Jack and Rory are men….
So when Ailsa started writing “straight” fiction we shared out the names. I did actually exist for about five minutes. I was Ailsa’s twin brother but I was declared still-born. She survived but rather kindly re-animated me to be her alter-ego in the writing world. Everyone is in on the joke and we even banter with each other on FB.
I live with her and her husband and she is forever nicking my expensive aftershave while I try to correct her outrageous dress-sense (or lack of it). We have a tradition of doing a mad dance with our underpants on our heads when we get really good news like a new book deal.
Now that I’d like to see! Okay, you asked me when I visited the Bingerbread Cottage, what my favourite books are. Now I know we share one in common – The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. You said you referred to it when teaching the path. Get all mystical on us, Ailsa – tell me what the path is?
If you’ve read Mists then you know about the Goddess and that is the kind of thing I did. I trained in Wiccan paganism and was ordained as a High Priestess so in my turn I trained others. Since then, I have had to move and don’t have a coven so as a solo practitioner I find shamanistic life suits me better. I am surrounded by the spirits of Nature and some of my best friends are trees. (Nurse! She’s out of bed again!) I just believe that everything has a spirit and we honour them and in working together we can get some healing going. I don’t teach any more because it is too draining on my energy. Having been rather unwell for quite a long while I don’t have the strength but I can recommend some good reading!
Wow, sounds good to me! And your other favourite books – what are they?
Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett (anything featuring those 3). Alan Garner, Henry Treece, Bernard Cornwell, Marian Green (very good “teach thyself witchcraft”) Also very fond of Gina Dickerson who is a friend and writes in a matter of fact way about magic, rather as I do. To be honest I will read just about anything as long as it is well written. Having gone through the “joys” of editing I throw books across the room if they are sub-standard. I’ve found that by being with CCP, I read my fellow authors’ work out of a sense of family and I’ve found some brilliant work I wouldn’t normally have touched but really enjoyed.
You live in a lovely French village – describe to me a typical day.
Get up, drink tea in front of the computer and say hello to all my friends world-wide. Take the dogs out for a walk and talk to my spirits by the river. I often get “direction” or inspiration then. Home and see to any mundane chores before getting on with posting my
blog. I try to blog every day. Then writing if I don’t have hospital appointments, physiotherapy or any other boring stuff. Evenings I sit with my knitting and watch films. I always have some knitting on the go and my speciality is either cuddly toys for small relatives or Icelandic jumpers. (Loving those jumpers!!!)
Any other writing projects on the go?
Yes! Too many! Cameron is about to start on Book 3 of his Jack and Rory series. I am taking a complete departure once Reunion is finished and am going to write a collection of short stories about my life here in France. After 22 years, I do seem to have rather a lot of funny tales.
Last but not least, Five Fascinating Facts about Ailsa please!!
I used to be a survival instructor in the Royal Air Force.
I lived aboard my boat for 6 years and arrived in France on it.
I am numerically dyslexic. It takes me ten whole minutes to write down a phone number.
I’ve been an ice cream seller, a PA, a language teacher, a vet nurse and worked in a zoo (which I hated and will write a book about one day).
I can speak about four or five language but only fluent in French and English – the others I can only speak when I’m in the country needing it. Weird or what?
Thanks so much for having me – it’s been a blast! Ailsa, I couldn’t agree more!
The Official Bio…
Ailsa Abraham retired early from a string of jobs, ending up with teaching English to adults. She has lived in France for over twenty years and is married with no children but six grandchildren. Her passion is motorbikes which have taken the place of horses in her life now that ill-health prevents her riding. She copes with Bipolar Condition, a twisted spine and increasing deafness with her usual wry humour – “well if I didn’t have all those, I’d have to work for a living, instead of writing, which is much more fun.”. Her ambition in life is to keep breathing and maybe move back to the UK. She has no intention of stopping writing.
The books and where to find her!
Alchemy and Shaman’s Drum published by Crooked Cat
Alchemy: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ailsa-Abraham/e/B00AYKUBQ4/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1401615060&sr=8-1
Shaman’s Drum (nominated for the People’s Choice Book Award): 
