05 May 2023

Muskets and Masquerades by Lindsey S. Fera Blog Tour! @AuthorLinzFera @cathiedunn @bostonduchess @thecoffeepotbookclub

  #HistoricalFiction #HistoricalRomance #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub


Book Title: Muskets and Masquerades

Series: Muskets Trilogy

Author: Lindsey S. Fera

Publication Date: 18th April 2023

Publisher: Pompkin Press

Page Length: 500

Genre: Historical Fiction / Historical Romance



Jack and Annalisa are married only five months when, enroute to France, a shipwreck separates them. On different shores, each believes the other dead. But when Annalisa learns Jack is alive, she returns to America and discovers much has changed. After a betrayal, she flees town as her alter ego, Benjamin Cavendish, and joins the Continental Army.

Unbeknownst to Annalisa, Jack has also joined the Continentals, harboring shameful secrets from his days in mourning. Against the backdrop of war with Britain, façades mount between Jack and Annalisa, and the merry minuet of their adolescence dissolves into a masquerade of deceit, one which threatens to part them forever.


Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/mYxkoV 


Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Muskets-Masquerades-Lindsey-Fera-ebook/dp/B0BWKGCSH1/ 


Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Muskets-Masquerades-Lindsey-Fera-ebook/dp/B0BWKGCSH1 


Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Muskets-Masquerades-Lindsey-Fera-ebook/dp/B0BWKGCSH1/ 


Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Muskets-Masquerades-Lindsey-Fera-ebook/dp/B0BWKGCSH1/ 


Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/muskets-and-masquerades-lindsey-s-fera/1143036124?ean=9798986756509


Muskets and Masquerades Excerpt


Abigail smiled, then looked toward her great stone mansion. “Charles can’t refute what I say, and for that, I’m thankful.” She paused. “But I’ve reason to suspect he’s not the man he says he is.” 

A gust of chilly air lifted the hat from Annalisa’s head. She bristled as she grabbed it, though was unsure if it was the breeze, or her friend’s ominous conjecture, puckering her skin. 


“Whatever do you mean?”


Abigail removed two letters from her pocket. “I’ve been meaning to show you these for weeks but could never find the time to steal them from Charles’s desk.” She unfolded the pages and handed them to Annalisa, who scrutinized the broken seal. 


“The Prime Minister?” 


“Yes. Lord North.”


“Why is Lord Essex in correspondence with Lord North?” Annalisa asked. “The Prime Minister is not a Whig.”


“It says here,” Abigail reached for the second letter and read, “My old friend, I will do whatever you ask of me, so long as I have your support in Parliament.” She scoffed. “Is it not clear enough? North is vying for Charles’s support in Parliament.”


Annalisa bit her lip. “In my time at Devonshire House, I learned from the duke’s Whig Party dinners, Lord North is wildly unpopular these days. Perhaps he’s merely trying to gain votes by whatever means possible.”


“La!” Abigail groaned. “But why write to Charles? Think you ’tis possible North’s written similar letters to other Whigs? Think you the Duke of Devonshire holds a similar note?” 


“I know not. The duke is rather taciturn. But I should think Lord North, a man in danger of losing his popularity, and hence, his position of power, would do anything necessary to secure himself.” Annalisa reached for Abigail’s hand. “Be not too quick to render your husband a traitor to his party.” 


Looking quite uncomfortable, Abigail diverted her gaze. “Perhaps you’re right. But I’ve a sour feeling about it.” 


Annalisa glanced at the house. “Is Lord Essex hunting all day today?” 


“Yes.” 


They both stared at the mansion. 


“Care to peruse his study with me?” Abigail asked.


Inside, they dallied on the first floor until the nursemaid ascended the stairs with Louisa, then slipped down the hall. Abigail led them through a wide, white painted corridor affixed with bronzed sconces, until she reached Lord Essex’s study. She lifted the latch and closed the door behind them. With floor to ceiling windows and white bookcases, natural light bathed the space in unusual brightness, far unlike the dark mahogany study Annalisa had imagined it to be. 


“I’ll search his desk if you look through that ledger,” Abigail said. 


Annalisa took the large leather book from his desk to an oak Windsor chair and sat, setting the tome on her lap. She flipped through the pages, all of which had written numbers upon them. “These are his accounts.” Her brows knit. “Wish you to know the expenditure of his estate and finances?” 


“No. Charles assures me I may buy whatever I like—”


“He’s in debt.” Annalisa looked up to meet her friend’s anxious stare.


Abigail, seated at the desk, faced her. “I beg your pardon?” 


Annalisa rose from the chair and took the ledger to the desk. “Look, his account can barely afford this house. Pray, who is his bookkeeper, his estate manager?” 


“La!” Abigail cupped her mouth. “Whatever could he be spending his money on? He’s assured me countless times…how could I have been so foolish?”


“Don’t be too harsh on yourself.” Annalisa returned to her chair. “How could you have known? He probably wishes not to worry you.” She read another page and scratched her head. “But he may have to let this house. I can’t see how you can continue living beyond your means.” 


 “Let the house?” Abigail looked as though she would weep. Frantically, she reached for another letter from the pile upon the desk. “This estate has been in his family for hundreds of years…Mr. Darby has been the estate manager since Charles’s father was alive. I can’t imagine he’d lead Charles astray.” She unfolded another letter, and her gaze darted across the page. Her face grew wan. 


“Abbie, what is it?” 


The page wavered in Abigail’s hands. “A letter from George.”


Annalisa rose from her seat. “What does it say?” 


“He wrote of his position within the Continental Army.” With a wistful upturn of her lips, added, “He’s a captain now…they’re in New York.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Zounds!”


“You frighten me. What is it?” 


Abigail’s eyes rounded with disbelief, and she whispered, “Jack’s alive.”




LINDSEY S. FERA is a born and bred New Englander, hailing from the North Shore of Boston. As a member of the Topsfield Historical Society and the Historical Novel Society, she forged her love for writing with her intrigue for colonial America by writing her debut novel, Muskets & Minuets, a planned trilogy. 


When she's not attending historical reenactments or spouting off facts about Boston, she's nursing patients back to health. Muskets & Masquerades is her sophomore novel.


Website: https://www.lindseyfera.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLinzFera

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLinzFera/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bostonduchess/

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Lindsey-S-Fera/author/B09598KYNM 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21491352.Lindsey_S_Fera





A Stepney Girl’s Secret by Jean Fullerton Blog Tour!

 



A brand new heart-warming and atmospheric saga fiction series from Jean Fullerton, charting the loves, hopes and heartaches of three women who move into a rectory in Stepney, East London during WW2.

East London, 1940. At the outbreak of war, hopeless romantic Prue Carmichael and her sister must leave their rural parish behind when their father is posted to a church in Stepney. To Prue, the blitz-ravaged streets of London seem an unlikely place for love to bloom - until a chance encounter throws rakish engineer Jack Quinn into her path. But as their connection deepens, his troubled past begins to emerge, and Prue realises Jack has secrets to hide . . .

Luckily, in between starting work at a railway yard and helping her mother house Jewish refugees in the parish, Prue manages to keep her mind off love and on the wartime effort. However, Jack isn't the only man who's fallen for Prue - and when he is recruited into Churchill's secret underground army, an unexpected suitor offers a fresh distraction.

As air raid sirens sound and the Battle of Britain rages overhead, Prue Carmichael must face some of the greatest horrors of her young life. Meanwhile, she is waging her own battle - the fight between her heart and her head . . .

Amidst the ruins of war, will Prue and Jack's love find a way to flourish?

Purchase Links 

UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0BLRB2481/

US - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BLRB2481/ 


Born and bred in East London Jean was a District Nurse by trade and ended her thirty-year career in health care as a senior lecture in Health and Nursing Studies in London Southbank University.
She had published twenty sagas all set in East London with both Orion and Atlantic the most recent of which is the highly successful Ration Book series. She has also recently released her autobiography A Child of the East End.


Giveaway to Win 5 x Copies of A Stepney Girl’s Secret (Open to UK & Ireland Only)


*Terms and Conditions –UK & Ireland entries welcome.  Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below.  The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.  I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.







04 May 2023

Phoenix by Barry Creyton New Release Blitz! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign #LGBTQIA+

 #contemporary #booklover #bookblogger #bookaddict #romancereadersofinstagram #booknerd #bookworm

Title:  Phoenix

Author: Barry Creyton

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 05/02/2023

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 69900

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, actor, suspense, murder, mystery, blackmail, revenge, identity scam, horse farm, family drama

Add to Goodreads

Jack McCauley is at a dead end. He’s run out of money, luck, and love. There’d be no one to mourn him if he died tomorrow. Out of the blue, he’s given the chance to begin anew—another identity, another life, another chance at love. Should he take it? Should he start over?

Jack is young, good-looking, and desperate for his next acting gig. His boyfriend is history, his rent is unpaid, and his agent isn’t returning his calls. He’s offered one chance at redemption—a small part in a western being shot in Arizona—if only he can make his way there from LA by noon the following day.

Hitching a ride with Martin Brenner seems just the ticket. Martin is on his way to a new life in Phoenix and seems pleased to pick up an extra passenger.

Little does Jack know that a simple pickup will lead to the acting job he least expected—the role of a lifetime. But nothing in Phoenix is what it seems on the surface. Can Jack act his way out of an intricate jigsaw of lies, blackmail, and murder?


Phoenix
Barry Creyton © 2023
All Rights Reserved

LOS ANGELES

Wednesday, July 13

2:59 p.m.

“Your name?”

The voice came from somewhere beyond the glare of the lights. It was deep, resonant, and weary.

A pinpoint of light reflected from the camera lens; Jack smiled at this tiny beacon—a warm, open smile with a hint of vulnerability, as he’d learned in drama class. He held up the slate bearing his name and said, “Jackson McCauley.”

There followed a weighty silence broken by a gurgle as Jack’s stomach protested a skipped breakfast. He hoped the mic hadn’t picked it up. Not that breakfast was beyond what he had in his wallet, but when it came to auditions and screen tests, the void in his gut admitted a butterfly or two.

He sneaked a glance into the gloom and saw a tight closeup of his face on a floor monitor. He was shiny from the heat of the lamps, but it was an evenly proportioned face with strong bones, piercing blue eyes, and a shock of carefully casual sandy-blond hair—a handsome face, a face, he’d been told, that would take him far.

It had taken him as far as this ancient, rundown sound stage in the back blocks of Hollywood.

“Jackson McCauley?” The weary man intoned the name as if trying to place it.

Jack turned his gaze back to the camera lens. “Most people just call me Jack—Jack McCauley. But, professionally…”

There was a terse rustle of paper. “How old are you?”

“It’s on my résumé.”

The man sighed and said as if to a kindergarten dropout, “We’d rather like to hear your voice.”

“Twenty-three.”

Silence. Jack grabbed another look at his image in the monitor. He’d worn what he thought was appropriate to test for a western—a neat, sky-blue, long-sleeved denim shirt with tabbed pockets, faded 501s, and cowboy boots that were only slightly down at heel, a souvenir from a gig as an extra on a TV series; they added an inch or so to his lean six feet.

“Profile.” A female voice—the voice of the casting director who’d called him out of the blue that afternoon—Michelle? Nicole? Something French sounding. That was about thirty minutes before the phone company ended their bumpy relationship with him and killed his cell account.

He turned to his left, offering what he considered to be his best side to the camera. Across the dark stage in the yellow glow of a work light, he saw a bored grip gazing at the floor. Even from this distance, Jack could tell the only thought on the guy’s mind was getting the hell out of there for a cigarette.

“Other side.”

Jack did a one-eighty. His view from this angle was even more depressing: Another actor around Jack’s age stood in the dust-defined beam of a grid, rigid with nerves. His glance shifted back and forth from Jack to a page of script.

“Jack—Jackson—whatever…” Her voice had a husky, tough edge but sounded young; he could see nothing of her except the glint of a bracelet as she moved her hand in a casual, dismissive wave. “Tell us something about yourself.”

Jack turned back to the lens. “Okay. Um, I was born right here in LA. I always wanted to act, I guess. Always.”

“How about your folks?”

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, unaware he’d done so, but this subtle movement, coupled with a second’s hesitation, was enough to suggest to anyone with the most elementary knowledge of psychology that this was a painful subject.

“I never knew my mom.” He let this sit for a moment, then added, “She, um, she left when I was just a month old. And—my dad died when I was twelve. My grandmother took care of me until—”

“Any other family?”

“No, no one.” What had his drama coach advised? Use it! Use the emotion! He lowered his eyes, subtly suggesting loss. This was good. He was getting to give them a range of expression without having read a word of the script.

“What’ve you done?” the baritone asked.

“Uh, let’s see…I did a spot in Girl About the House for Disney. That was a while back. I did an ep of Sands of Time—”

“The soap?”

“Yeah.”

“That was canceled a year ago.” Now the baritone sounded impatient; his precious time was being wasted by the nonevent of Jack’s career.

But the woman sounded interested. “How about recently?”

“I was in True West. HBO.”

“Oh?” This elicited a hint of interest from the man. “Which character?”

“Um, day player.”

The interest evaporated. “An extra.”

“Yeah, but I’m good with horses, so they wrote up the part a bit.”

“But no lines.”

Jack shook his head.

“Anything else?”

“You want to know about the theater I’ve done?”

“God no,” the man said. “Just give him the copy.”

A disembodied hand darted into Jack’s pool of light and thrust a page at him.

“Can I have a minute…?”

“From sight,” the man said. “I’ll cue you.” He read in a monotone: “‘You wouldn’t mind living in the nicest house in town. Buying your wife a lot of fine clothes, going to New York on a business trip a couple of times a year. Maybe to Europe once in a while?’”

Jack’s eyes darted over the page trying to find the place. He realized he was squinting and eased the tension from his face.

Keep it simple.

“‘I know what I’m going to do tomorrow and the next day and next.’” The words were familiar. They triggered a faint memory of something rare and bright in a shadow-filled childhood. He couldn’t pin it down without losing concentration, but the emotion it generated was a gift to an actor. “‘And I’m going to build things! I’m going to build airfields! I’m going to build skyscrapers a hundred stories high! I’m going to build a bridge a mile long!’”

“Okay, that’ll do,” the man said.

Jack turned the page over and back, then peered into the void beyond the camera with a puzzled frown. “Isn’t this from It’s a Wonderful Life?”

“We just want to see how you handle dialogue,” the man said.

Jack smiled his easy, all-American smile. “Can I take it again?”

The request was ignored. There was a whispered exchange in the dark. He strained to catch the voices.

First the baritone: “…strictly an under five…”

Then the woman: “…exactly what I want…”

A little more muttering and then a firm “I know what I want!” from the woman.

“You’re a good-looking guy,” the man said. It sounded more like an accusation than a compliment. Jack lowered his head modestly anyway. “Can you be in Flagstaff by noon tomorrow?”

“Flagstaff, Arizona?”

The baritone sighed. “It’s the only Flagstaff I know. It’s not a big part. You’ll have to get there on your own.”

Realization hit—he’d got the part!

A chair scraped as the woman rose, and Jack heard the sound of her high heels as she crossed the concrete floor to an exit. A stagehand opened the door, and Jack saw her trim silhouette as she left the stage.

“Be there twelve noon on the dot, or we’ll have to cast a local,” she said as she vanished into the light.

*

3:21 p.m.

The office that fronted the dilapidated sound stage was a sterile recent addition. No boastful movie posters adorned the walls, but the extravagantly tattooed girl at the desk more than compensated for the absence of decoration. Having ascertained Jack was “between agents”, she shoved a basic agreement across the desk. The money wasn’t great, but given his circumstances, food stamps would’ve been a plus.

Jack winced a little as he noted the girl’s pierced tongue and wondered if it got in the way when she kissed or ate. It certainly made a mush of the rote information she imparted.

“Twelve noon for makeup and wardrobe.”

Jack was relieved he was not expected to provide his own costume.

“Sign here, initial here, and here.”

He wanted to tell someone about his good fortune but realized, with no rancor, there was no one. Everyone to whom he’d been close had deserted him—his actor boyfriend for a good-looking realtor with an income, his roommate for a fringe theatrical production in Riverside, and his agent, who had cut him loose three weeks ago with spurious sympathy and a brief observation on “the state of the business.”

Fuck them all! He had a job. With dialogue. No billing, but maybe this could lead to something. He signed “Jackson McCauley” with a flourish. The girl provided a call sheet and directions to the location and the one-star motel where they would accommodate him during his week’s work.

Done with the formalities, he took the crisp, new-looking script and hurried out of the office into the searing Southern Californian sun. He punched the air and shouted a joyous, “Yesss!” as he ran into the street to the shady spot he’d found to park his car.

The spot was there, but the car was gone.

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Barry Creyton has worked extensively in British and Australian theatre and television as actor, playwright and director. His plays are produced in more than twenty languages. Awards include the prestigious Kessell Award for his outstanding contributions to Australian theatre, the L.A. Ovation Award, and the Noel Coward International Writing Award. He resides in the United States. Find out more on his Website.

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! 


Blog Button 2

She Who Rides Horses: A Saga of the Ancient Steppe (Book One) by Sarah V. Barnes BookTour! @iReadBookTours @acornsireadbooktours

 #iReadBookTours #books  #authors  #giveaway #historicalfiction #novel 


Book Details:

​Book Title:  She Who Rides Horses: A Saga of the Ancient Steppe (Book One) by Sarah V. Barnes
Category:  Adult Fiction (18+),  267 pages
Genre: Historical Fiction 
Publisher:  Lilith House Press 
Release date:  March 2022
Content RatingPG.  It contains two kissing scenes and the death of an animal.
Book Description:

Set more than 6,000 years ago, She Who Rides Horses: A Saga of the Ancient Steppe (Book One) begins the story of Naya, the first person to ride a horse.

Daughter of a clan chief, bolder than other girls but shunned by the boys because of her unusual appearance, Naya wanders alone through the vast grasslands where her people herd cattle and hunt wild horses for their meat. But Naya dreams of creating a different kind of relationship with the magnificent creatures.

One day, she discovers a filly with a chestnut coat as uncommon as her own head of red hair. With time running out before she is called to assume the responsibilities of adulthood, Naya embarks on a quest to gallop with the red filly across the boundless steppe.

​Unwittingly, she sets in motion forces and events that will change forever the future of humans and horses alike.



Sarah V. Barnes, Ph.D. is both an historian and a horsewoman. When Sarah is not writing stories, she practices and teaches riding as a meditative art. She also offers equine-facilitated coaching and wellness workshops.

Sarah holds a Ph.D. in history from Northwestern University and spent many years as a college professor before turning full-time to riding and writing. She has two grown daughters and lives with her husband, her dogs and her horses near Boulder, CO.


connect with the author: website facebook ~  goodreads




Enter the Giveaway:


SHE WHO RIDES HORSES
A Saga of the Ancient Steppe
(Book One)

(one winner/USA only)





Resonate by Erin Wilkerson Book Blitz! ⁣⁣#ErinWilkerson #Resonate #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣

 #bookish #booklover #greatreads #booknerd #nowavailable #fortheloveofreading #bookstagrammer #bibliophile #releaseblitz #bookaholic #mustread #authorsofinstagram #bookblogger #amreading

Resonate
Erin Wilkerson


(The Avalon Series, #1)
Publication date: May 1st 2023
Genres: Dystopian, Science Fiction, Young Adult

Sixteen year old Tamar Linsky has had enough!

After surviving twenty-two devastating quakes on an increasingly unstable Earth, she leaves the slow destruction of her world behind for an internship as far away from tragedy as she can get—humanity’s first lunar colony.

Lunar Base One is a high-tech research facility brimming with the brightest young minds from all over the world, but through it all, she will beat her peers and make a name for herself as a groundbreaking scientist. Even if a good-looking prankster threatens to distract her—knowing relationships are forbidden—bringing more secrets and drama than Tamar can bear.

Just when she thought she was getting a grip on the pressure, a geological catastrophe wipes out civilization back home.

Now cut off from the Earth she was desperate to escape, Tamar and her crew must find a way to survive on their own.

Goodreads / Amazon

River fell, grabbing a firm hold of the rovers bumper while hanging off the side of a hole in the moons surface. A deafening scream followed from the girl.

He caught her outstretched hand. The remote rover and core sample smashed into pieces below. She dangled in a frenzied panic. The rover shifted from their weight. “Don’t let go of me!” she screamed.

“I’ve got you!” he shouted back.

That calmed her a little, but she still whimpered. The rover stopped, hung halfway off the side of the cliff.

He studied it. It wasn’t going to hold much longer.

“Tamar! River? What happened?” Ringo cried out through the commlink.

“Stay back! It’s a cave-in!” River scoured the cliff for a spot he could jump for. If he just didn’t have the princess clinging to his arm, he could get out of here easy.

Big John, Ringo, and Ginger showed up at the edge of the rocky cliff. The three stood motionless.

“Hold onto her River!” Ringo’s frantic voice howled, with his hands on his helmet. Ginger began to radio the control room, explaining what happened.

“I’m trying.” River gripped Tamar’s hand tighter. “Are you going to do something?”

“Let me think!” Ringo screeched back, his hands tense at the sides of his helmet.

River’s eyes narrowed. “This thing’s not going to hold much longer.”

“Ringo, the trekkers!” Big John’s voice boomed. The two disappeared from the edge.

“It’s going to take them both to hold that beast.” Ringo explained through their steady huffs. River didn’t remember the trekkers being close, but at least they were doing something other than standing there.

He examined the pit below, studying the surface. Then, he spotted it.

“Okay listen to me,” he said to the girl, gazing down at her petrified face. “There’s a small patch of soft moon dust off to the right over there. I’m going to toss you onto it.”

“Over there? You can’t throw me that far,” she screamed.

“No, River. Don’t let go of her. We’re almost there,” Ringo shouted.

“Shut it, Ringo!” He softened his eyes, hoping she would understand. “Don’t listen to him, you’ll be fine.”

“River, stop! It’s too deep! We’ve got the trekkers,” Ringo shouted through Tamar’s constant screams and pleas. She murmured a weak, terrified wail, begging him not to do this to her.

Why was she acting like this? Did she think he was a monster? “You want to live, don’t you?” River yelled.

She nodded, gripping his hand so tight it went numb through his glove.

“Then listen to me!” The rover inched forward, its weight crumbling the rock side, and he no longer cared for her permission.

He swung his arm back, focusing on the point of impact, then tossed her toward the dust pile. She flew, screaming the whole way.

Her bottom landed safely, just as he said she would. But time had run out for him. The rover dove off the cliff, leaving him no other choice but to ride down with it.


"Erin Wilkerson is a writer of YA fantasy and science fiction stories, which often feature fierce, comedic, and sassy female characters ready to take on the world and kick butt. She aspires to hole up somewhere with her manuscripts, writing in isolation for hours, but there is no way that'll ever happen since she is the proud ringleader of this traveling troupe of rambunctious monkeys. Life swallows up her time, but it makes for hilarious stories to share with her readers. She resides in Texas with her circus. Her debut novel, RESONATE, is set to release on May 1st."

-- Written by close friend and fellow author Ari Augustine.

Website / Goodreads / Twitter

GIVEAWAY!

Merch T-shirt, $50 Amazon card, and ebooks


The Mystery of the Homeless Man by Gina Cheyne Blog Tour!

 


The Mystery of the Homeless Man


Why would an airline pilot exchange a world of comfort for life on the streets?

In 2006, Miranda meets an itinerant in the wood, she takes him home. He refuses to stay, desperate to return to the streets. Miranda gives him some money and forgets the incident.

Fifteen years later, the SeeMs Detective Agency is investigating an abandoned house and discovers a homeless man was found there: murdered. 

No one knows who the dead man is or how he died, and, with one hundred and fifty unidentified street deaths per year, no one has time to find out.

But, the SeeMs Detectives have both time and a client.

Their investigation takes them into a surprising world of aviation, night-clubs and the homeless.

What they discover threatens one of their team. Can they save their colleague before the homeless man’s killer strikes again?

Amazon UK – 

Amazon US -

Excerpt from The Mystery of the Homeless Man by Gina Cheyne


This is an excerpt from early in the book. Stevie, one of the SeeMs Detectives, who is also an airline pilot, is returning from Heathrow. She is driving the Triumph Spitfire she restored when she comes across an intriguing situation.

 

Stevie left the terminal and took the bus to the staff car park. She was ready to go home. She’d being flying  long haul for over a week and although she loved flying and being away, she worried about her dementia-wracked mother, and the constantly changing carers.

She pushed back the hood and slipped into the well-conditioned leather seats, allowing the smell to envelop her for a few moments. She didn’t usually put the top down after a long flight, but it was such a lovely evening with a light breeze that she wanted to be out in the soft night air. 

There was very little traffic at this time of the morning, particularly as COVID restrictions had only recently been lifted and drivers allowed out. Stevie made good time down the M25 and on down the A3, but as she past Milford  she saw signs indicating that night work was being done on the tunnel and it was closed. Sighing she turned off down the Lea Coach Road and made her way along the slower road.

The only other car around was a silver Toyota Sienna, which accelerated past Stevie so fast it nearly knocked her into the ditch.

Stevie swore quietly. ‘No need to drive like that, my friend,’ she muttered. ‘Where could you be going that is more important than staying alive?’

As she reached the twisting, turning road out of Billington, she was forced to drive under thirty and couldn’t help wondering if the Toyota had slowed here or had careered through the corners like a madman.

Rounding a particularly sharp corner she saw what looked like a deer lying in the road about 100 yards ahead. Had the Toyota hit it? What a fool. Who drives so fast on these crazy corners?

She slowed down to a fast walking pace, but as she did so the deer jumped up onto its hind legs. She gasped as her headlights sprinkled across his body, revealing it was actually a man. Was he injured? Perhaps by the speeding Toyota.  Stevie realised if she didn’t stop she would hit him too. She braked so hard she skidded slightly. She turned off the engine. The man turned towards her, looking around with jumpy movements. Unexpectedly, he swerved her way, running towards her, his speed increasing as he did so. She sat terrified. He was going smash into her car.

Her body went cold. Or was this a ploy? Was he pretending to be hurt, then jumping up and attacking her? She’d read stories like that on the internet.

Her hand grasped the jack by her left side. Pulled it on to her lap and waited. Watching to see what the man would do.

Reaching the car, the man stopped. He sank down by her door and, sitting on the tarmac, began sobbing piteously. As she watched, her body tense in her seat, he put up his arms, grabbed the top of her door, pulled himself up and lent in to the car, his tears dropping on to her right leg.

‘Oh,’ he wailed and his voice cracked her heart, ‘you are alive. You are alive!’

Stevie stared at the man. She could see now he was not a young man but rather someway into middle age and his eyes, when he lifted his head, were tired and bloodshot. She wondered what to do next.

A scream pierced the air. ‘Uncle Jake! Uncle Jake!’ and Stevie wrest her eyes away from the sobbing man towards the voice. A young woman was now also running towards the car and screaming out as she did so. ‘Don’t hurt him! He didn’t mean nothing. He’s good!’

Stevie realised with surprise she had automatically lifted the jack and was holding it in the air above the weeping man’s head. She gently brought it back into the car, her eyes darting between the woman and the man uncertainly.

As the woman got closer, she slowed down and stretched out her arms. Reaching the man, she enveloped him into a hug as though he was a child. ‘It’s OK Jake, it’s OK,’ she breathed gently into his ear. ‘Look she’s alive. She’s not even hurt.’

Slowly the man stopped crying, and the woman turned towards Stevie. ‘Sorry love. He’s lovely but he’s not all there. It’s not his fault. It was the second of the two accidents. He was so young, and he thought he was responsible but all he did was find her. It wasn’t his fault. And the second one wasn’t even hurt, was she love. The girl was OK. So is this one. Not even hurt. That’s good isn’t it Jakie.’

The man turned his head to look at Stevie while still clinging to the woman. She kissed him gently on the top of his head and turned back to Stevie. ‘Sorry love, I hope you’re not shocked. It’s a bad corner this one. Please drive safely.’

And with that she turned and led the stooping man away.

Stevie shook her head sighing. What was that all about? She really did not understand people. Machines were so much simpler. 

She started up the Spitfire and drove home listening to Pink Floyd Welcome to the Machine.


Gina Cheyne is a retired helicopter pilot who has lived and worked in many countries. At present she Lives in Chaos, although she originally came from Erehwon. Her schooling was so bad she had to be re-schooled by animals. She loves to laugh. Plays tennis badly, bridge slightly better, golf even worse. She is exceptionally good at walking, unless it is muddy, then she is good at reading.






03 May 2023

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan Book Birthday Blitz!

 


In the eyes of the ton, Ellen Harding lives a charmed life - she is the beautiful, exquisitely adorned mistress of Lord Gainsborough.

But on the inside, behind her glamorous façade, she is empty - a vessel - deaf to the voice of morality and blind to shame. Unable to escape the gilded cage she has been trapped within.

Kind, gentle Edward Marlow could prove to be her salvation... With one look he gives her hope. With one touch he sets her senses alight.

Lose yourself in the passionate intensity of this stunning debut from exciting new talent Jane Lark.

Available on Kindle Unlimited on Amazon 

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan Book 1 -  https://amzn.to/3IlnwnH

The Marlow Family Secret Full Series - https://amzn.to/3K4lpps

Apple

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan Book 1- https://books.apple.com/gb/book/the-illicit-love-of-a-courtesan/id703314627

Kobo

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/the-illicit-love-of-a-courtesan-the-marlow-family-secrets-book-1

Barnes and Noble 

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-illicit-love-of-a-courtesan-jane-lark/1119435159?ean=9780007553990


Jane has been shortlisted for several industry awards. She is a Kindle bestselling author and a writer of compelling, passionate, and emotionally charged fiction. She loves writing intense relationships and is thrilled to hear readers say they have loved a book so much they have read it more than once
 



View My Stats!

View My Stats

Pageviews past week

SNIPPET_HTML_V2.TXT
Tweet