#BlogTour! #Extract – Escape to the Country by Alison Sherlock (@AlisonSherlock) @Aria_Fiction

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I am delighted to be today’s stop on Alison Sherlock’s blog tour for ‘Escape to the Country’. I am a bit annoyed with myself as I ended up getting to the ARC a bit late which meant that it was no longer available. However, I will be ensuring that I buy it to read as soon as I can. I do have an extract for you all to read though, enjoy!


Journalist Eleanor McCartney leads a glamorous life in London exposing the sordid secrets of famous celebrities for Hot Gossip! magazine. But her perfect life is a sham. So when her world collapses, she has to reluctantly head home to her mum and friends in the quiet country village of Cranley.

Willow Tree Hall is still in the midst of extensive renovations under the careful eye of Eleanor’s best friend Annie and her fiancé, record producer and future Earl of Cranley, Sam Harris. With a recording studio now in the grounds of the estate, it should be the perfect place for global singing sensation Tom Kingsley to hang out.

But Tom is burnt out after a gruelling worldwide tour and is escaping the paparazzi after yet another scandal. Eleanor cannot believe her luck. A story on the world’s biggest superstar would be the ticket that gets her job and glamorous life back in London.

But soon both Eleanor and Tom begin to fall under the spell of Willow Tree Hall. Eleanor begins to wonder whether she can really betray his trust. And does she really want her old life back or is home really where the heart lies?

As a heatwave soars, friendships are made, truths are told and, with the help of a stray dog, perhaps love can be found as hearts are healed. By escaping to the country, maybe Eleanor and Tom have found their new beginning.


Eleanor sank onto the ground, barely registering the wet grass soaking through her jeans. She couldn’t believe it. She had just lost her job. What was she going to do? What was she going to tell everyone back home in Cranley? Her Mum and best friends, Annie and Megan, actually believed in the fake lifestyle that she had created for them so many years a go. The fiction she had told them bore no resemblance to her real job.

They would all be horrified if they knew that she had been lying over and over to them. And now, at the end of so many wasted years, it turned out that her gut instinct had been right all along. That she wasn’t the big success in the city that she had pretended to be. That deep down beneath the expectations of her friends and family, she really was just a big, fat failure after all.

On the opposite side of the street, the front door opened to Tuesday Tavistock’s apartment just as a taxi drew up outside. Eleanor watched in a daze as Tuesday kissed 

an elegant woman on the cheek. They looked so alike it could only have been her mother. The tip-off had turned out to be nothing. Just like the rest of her career. Eleanor slowly became aware that she was still holding the rose, clutching the petals so hard that as she let go, they floated down to the sodden ground next to her, along with her dreams.

Whatever the future held, it was unlikely that her very own Superman was going to show up and rescue her. Tights, cape or otherwise.

Buy now!

About the author.

Alison Sherlock enjoyed reading and writing stories from an early age and gave up office life to follow her dream. Alison lives in Surrey with her husband and a daft golden retriever.



#BlogTour! #Extract – My Husband’s Lies by Caroline England (@CazEngland) @AvonBooksUK

My Husband's Lies Blog Tour Banner
Thrilled to be taking part in Caroline England’s blog tour today for ‘My Husband’s Lies’. I am gutted that I haven’t quite had the chance to read this book yet, but I am determined to rectify that as soon as I can. In the meantime, here is an extract from the book:

Do you really know your friends?

On the afternoon of Nick and Lisa’s wedding, their close friend is found poised on a hotel window ledge, ready to jump.

As the shock hits their friendship group, they soon realise that none of them are being as honest with themselves – or with each other – as they think.

And there are secrets lurking that could destroy everything.

Buy now from Amazon


Will Taylor opens his window and grins. ‘Careful, Danny Boy, might get a few drops of rain on your head and spoil the lovely locks. Then you’ll be banned from the wedding photographs, leaving just handsome me.’

Dan laughs. ‘Good try, William, but no contest. I’m so the best man,’ he replies.
Inhaling the briny tang in the air, Dan links arms with Geri and they slowly negotiate the gritty puddles in the car park. They are overtaken by Will and Penny and another man in a suit, his face hidden by a black umbrella. Dan steps into the dimly lit porch. The fusty smell strikes like a familiar soft slap. A blend of incense and aged parchment, taking him back. ‘Reminds me of when I was an altar boy. Every bloody time.’

Will shakes his umbrella and grins. ‘You were an altar boy? You’re joking, Dan. What about the opium of the masses? And the bloody rest. Think you owe me a few pints for all those pub rants I had to endure.’
Dan wonders why he mentioned it. ‘Strange but true. At primary school. Before we went to St Mark’s.’
‘Pretty boy with dark curls in a cassock? Yup, I can picture that.’ Will stretches his wide shoulders and wipes the drops of rain from his close-cropped brown hair. ‘It’s bloody freezing in here. Think we’re the first to arrive. Where the hell is Nick? His brother’s old Merc was right behind us when we left the hotel.’

Geri tucks a soft afro curl behind her ear and steps towards Penny. ‘Hi, Penny,’ she says, kissing her cheek. ‘You look nice; red is definitely your colour. Love the dress coat, bet it’s silk. I had intended to take off this ugly old thing, but …’
Penny blinks and shakes her head almost imperceptibly. ‘Maybe it’ll be warmer inside.’ Then after a moment, ‘Great hat; it suits you.’

Geri rubs her stomach. ‘Thanks, thought it would distract from, well, this,’ she replies with a happy grin.

#BlogTour! #Extract – Secrets and Tea at Rosie Lee’s by Jane Lacey-Crane (@JaneLaceyCrane) @Aria_Fiction

Secrets and Tea at Rosie Lee's blog tour banner_preview
Today is my stop on the blog tour for Jane Lacey-Crane where I get to share an extract from the book! Enjoy!


Welcome to Rosie Lee’s cafe in the heart of the East End – where there’s not an avocado, slice of sour dough or double-shot no-foam soy milk caramel latte on the menu!

Rosie-Lee’s owner Abby is a woman without a plan….and her beloved little cafe is a business with a serious lack of customers. The Rosie Lee’s fry-up is legendary, but cooked breakfasts alone – however perfectly sizzled the bacon – aren’t going to pay the bills.

Fast approaching forty and fighting a serious case of empty nest syndrome, Abby realises it’s not just her menu that needs a makeover. And when Jack Chance, her The One That Got Away, saunters through the cafe doors and back into her life things definitely look set to change…

Abby has always believed a cup of strong builders tea makes everything better, but Jack’s reappearance is a complication even the trusty sausage sarnie can’t resolve….


I looked back out to the café. It was true; business hadn’t been brisk. I had been hoping that a glowing review in the local paper might drum up a bit more trade, but there was no chance of that now. The development of the nearby market had been great for anyone in its immediate vicinity, but not for us.

We were just that little bit too far outside the ‘development zone’. It wasn’t just my café either – all the shops in this little forgotten corner of East London were struggling to stay afloat. I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. There’d be plenty of time to obsess about my failing business later, hopefully whilst relaxing in a hot bath with a glass or three of wine.

‘Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?’

I didn’t want to take liberties; Flo might be mighty, but she was still seventy years old after all.

‘Positive. You’ve worked hard on all this.’

She gestured at the last batch of boxes I’d wrestled into my arms.

‘You deserve a few hours off.’

‘Okay. I might go and see if I can find a nice going-away present for Lucy.’

‘Lovely. Off you go, then, and I’ll see you in the morning. And tell Liz I said she got you cheap.’

I took the boxes and pushed my way through the back door. Flo was right of course; Liz had got me cheap, but she was my best friend. What was I supposed to do? She’d begged me to help her out after her other caterers had let her down; I wasn’t going to say no, was I?

Amazon // Kobo // Google Play // iBooks

About the author.

Born in London, Jane’s writing career began in cable TV, writing true crime documentaries. More recently, Jane has contributed to an anthology of short stories and written two weekly crime serials. When she’s not writing, Jane loves to read good books, binge watch TV boxsets and drink tea. And wine.

Twitter: @JaneLaceyCrane

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jane.crane.33


#BlogTour! #Extract – In The Blood by Ruth Mancini (@RuthMancini1) @HoZ_Books

In the Blood blog tour banner_preview
The ‘In The Blood’ blog tour kicks off today, and I have the pleasure of hosting the very first stop on the tour! Whoop! To help whet your appetite for Ruth Mancini’s novel, I have an extract to share with you. Enjoy!

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In southeast London, a young mother has been accused of an unthinkable crime: poisoning her own child and then leaving him to die. The mother, Ellie, is secretive and challenging she’s had a troubled upbringing but does that mean she’s capable of murder?

Balancing the case with raising her disabled five-year-old son, criminal defence lawyer Sarah Kellerman sets out in desperate pursuit of the truth. But when her own child becomes unwell, Sarah realises she’s been drawn into a dangerous game.

Unsettling and compulsive, In the Blood is a chilling study of class, motherhood and power from a new star in crime fiction.


It is. I had forgotten how much I liked Annalise, or Anna as I’ve always known her at work. She’s a family lawyer. She gets called a divorce lawyer but that ’s not really what she does. She deals with child custody, mostly, specifically public law cases, the ones where there are child protection issues and the local authority want to take the child away. We used to see each other at the local magistrates’ court sometimes when we both worked at Cartwright & Taylor, and when we were both t here late, as we often were, we would stop off for a drink on the way home.

Of course, that was before Ben. I don’t get to do things like that very much these days, but I’m happy to hear a friendly voice on the phone, the voice of someone with whom on a day like today, when I’m feeling at my very most mortal I don’t have to pretend to be the sort of professional superwoman that I’m always reading about in the Law Society Gazette.

‘I’d love to chat,’ Anna says, ‘but, listen, I’ve got a case for you.’ Her voice echoes a little down the receiver. I’m guessing I’m on speakerphone.

‘It’s serious. It’s an attempted murder. Of a child.’ And then she’s off, talking rapidly, and I’m missing what she’s said. I reach for a pen, grabbing the notebook that’s on the desk in front of me and finding a fresh page. As I do so I nudge my coffee cup and a stream of light brown liquid leaps over the rim and across the desk. I’m instantly overwhelmed with the urge to either punch somebody or throw myself out of the window, the small puddle of coffee in front of me magnified by lack of sleep into Atlantic proportions. Instead I tuck the phone under my chin, pull a pack of baby wipes out of my handbag, take out a handful and drop them, one by one, onto the desk.

‘You’re really the best person I can think of for this,’ Anna is saying. ‘I’m really sorry, Anna,’ I interrupt her. ‘I didn’t catch all of that. Would you mind starting again?’

‘Oh. No. Of course not.’ She picks up the phone, and her voice comes into focus.

‘It’s one of my clients. She’s accused of trying to kill her eleven-month-old baby. Her name’s Ellie. She’s a young mum – twenty years old. Cut a long story short, she’s poisoned him. Then, while he’s in hospital recovering, she’s gone onto the ward and tried to kill him again.’

‘Jesus. How?’

If ‘In The Blood’ sounds right up your street, you can grab your copy right now from Amazon!


#BlogTour! #Extract – Guilt by Amanda Robson (@AmandaRauthor) @AvonBooksUK

Banner Guilt
Anyone feeling full of guilt today after overindulging during the bank holiday weekend?
Today on TWG, I have an extract from Amanda Robson’s latest novel, ‘Guilt’. Thanks to Avon Books for the blog tour invite. I hope you enjoy the extract!


Your sister. Her secret. The betrayal.

There is no bond greater than blood . . .

When the body of a woman is found stabbed to death, the blame falls to her twin sister. But who killed who? And which one is now the woman behind bars?

Zara and Miranda have always supported each other. But then Zara meets Seb, and everything changes. Handsome, charismatic and dangerous, Seb threatens to tear the sisters’ lives apart – but is he really the one to blame? Or are deeper resentments simmering beneath the surface that the sisters must face up to?

As the sisters’ relationship is stretched to the brink, a traumatic incident in Seb’s past begins to rear its head and soon all three are locked in a psychological battle that will leave someone dead. The question is, who?


Relationships at our age are an emotional battle. Winners and losers. So much to play for. Sebastian must lose, and you must win, Zara. No other outcome is acceptable for your mental health.

Saturday morning. Sebastian is out jogging. You are washing your hair in the shower. I pad towards the kitchen to make coffee. I hear running water and humming. You always hum when you are happy. Pulsing water relaxes you. You’ve always loved moving water. You’ve always loved the sea.
All those walks, along Fisherman’s Path to the beach, almost every Saturday. From when we were small with Mother. For years when I came back at weekends.

I push my memories away.

Coffee in hand, I flop onto the sofa and start to drink, Saturday stretching relentlessly in front of me. Nowadays I never seem to know what to do with myself when I’m not at work. I think of you and Sebastian clinging together as you do on my sofa, like ivy, and panic rises inside me. Zara, can’t you see him for what he is?

Your purse is on the arm of the easy chair. You must have left it there last night and forgotten about it. Your small leather change purse. I put my coffee down and lean across to pick it up. Three cards, a few receipts, some loose change, and a twenty-pound note, rammed in. I remove the twenty-pound note, zip up the purse and slowly, slowly, tiptoe past the bathroom. The shower has stopped but I can still hear humming. Tiptoeing into my guest bedroom where you both live.

If that extract tickles your fancy, you can buy the bestseller for 99p on e-book, right now from Amazon.
(Price verified 8/05/18 and may be subject to change)

#BlogTour! #Review and #Extract – #TheFear by C.L.Taylor (@CallyTaylor) @AvonBooksUK

The Fear - Blog Tour Banner - Part 3
Over half way through the busiest day on TWG and I’m feeling a bit of #TheFear! Please say that I’m not the only one? Ohhhh wait, I’m not, Ronnie Turner is feeling #TheFear today too! Yes, we’re both hosting C.L.Taylor and her new novel on our blogs today. How exciting! Thank you to AvonBooks for the blog tour invite and the ARC of the book. Here is my review, as well as a sneak peak from the book itself:

Sometimes your first love won’t let you go…

 Lou Wandsworth is used to being headline news as, aged fourteen, she ran away to France with her 31-year-old teacher, Mike Hughes.

Now 32, Lou’s life is in tatters – and she resolves to return home to confront Mike for the damage he has caused. But she soon finds that Mike is unchanged, and is focussing his attention on 13-year-old Chloe Meadows.

Determined to make sure that history doesn’t repeat itself, Lou decides to take matters into her own hands. But Mike is a predator of the worst kind, and as she tries to bring him to justice, it’s clear that Lou could once again become his prey…

What does TWG think?

I have to say that the title of this book is incredibly apt for the storyline itself – it really is all about #TheFear. Not only that, the theme is incredibly relevant to today’s society and, whilst being such a difficult storyline to digest, it’s something that happens more often than people would like to admit. Thankfully for us, C.L.Taylor has written a story which puts us in the shoes of someone who ran away with a person in a position of power. A person who was 17 years their senior. A person who should have known better, yet refused to even think. Some might say that Lou was old enough to know better at fourteen, but honestly, was she really? Keep that question in your mind whilst you read C.L.Taylor’s latest novel – you might find your opinion changes once you reach the end of the book.

Right, obviously I don’t intend on giving anything away, even accidentally, so I will be as vague in this review as I can. After all, the author has worked incredibly hard on her book, it would be such a shame to ruin it with a thoughtless spoiler.

Starting off in the ‘present day’, we meet a 32 year old Lou who is about to return to the place where it all began. The storyline switches between now and then, allowing readers an insight to what actually happened when Lou was fourteen. If that wasn’t enough, the storyline even changes viewpoints as we meet other characters who may or may not play a part in Lou’s history. There is so much to #TheFear and hand on heart, it isn’t confusing at all, you just need to pay attention because not everything is as it seems.

For such a dark storyline, #TheFear just kept on giving with every turn of the page, I honestly couldn’t put the book down. Yes, some parts were difficult to digest, yet it made the book even more addictive. C.L.Taylor doesn’t ‘pussy foot’ around the theme of the story at all, instead she grabs it by ahems and lays it bare for all its worth, and why not! It isn’t written insensitively – it’s real, raw and no doubt relatable.

#TheFear should come with its own oxygen mask, or at least come with a noisy buzzer reminding you to actually erm…whats the word, BREATHE! I’ll be honest here, this book gave me the heeby jeebies, but ohmygod was it worth it!

C.L.Taylor is a phenomenal writer and she proves that once again with her latest dark, enticing, and severely hard-hitting new novel – I even devoured it in one sitting, I was that addicted!

A cleverly written, gritty, intense and utterly brilliant novel which will leave you on the edge of your seat. Or, if you’re anything like me, it’ll have you hanging off the edge of your seat and falling on the floor because you’re too busy reading the book to pay attention to how far your backside is off the sofa!

Buy now from Amazon

About the author:

C.L. Taylor lives in Bristol with her partner and son. She started writing fiction in 2005 and her short stories have won several awards and have been published by a variety of literary and women’s magazines.

In 2014, The Bookseller named C.L. Taylor as one of the year’s Bestselling Adult Fiction Debut Authors for The Accident. The Lie and The Missing were Sunday Times top 10 bestsellers in paperback, and both books hit the #1 spot on the Kindle bestseller list. She has sold 1 million books to date.


If the high street was scary then the park was worse. Tucked away from the road, the only light was the dull glow of the theatre but, as Chloe ventured further in, darkness wrapped her like a shroud.

She gripped her dead phone to her chest as she passed the abandoned swings and slides and then sprinted across a stretch of lawn. As she reached a dark clump of trees and bushes she dropped to her knees and began to crawl, brushing sharp branches, nettles and brambles away from her face. For a worrying couple of seconds she feared she was in the wrong place, it wasn’t the secret hideout she’d shared with her best friend Martha when they were eight, but the foliage gradually parted to reveal a small hollow, four foot high by four foot wide with a tree trunk in the centre. Finally hidden from the world, she started to cry.

#BlogBlitz! #Extract – Godsend by J.A.Marley (@jamarleybooks) @Bloodhoundbook

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This afternoon I have the pleasure of helping to kick off J.A.Marley’s blog blitz with an extract from his new novel, ‘Godsend’! Big thanks to BloodHoundBooks for the blitz invite! Do keep reading until after the extract where you will find the all important ‘to buy’ links!

J.A. Marley - Godsend_cover_high res

It has been eighteen months since Danny Felix pulled off the robbery of his life.  His plan brought London to a standstill, but at a heavy price.

Now, living a quiet life running a charter fishing business in the Florida Keys, Danny is trying to come to terms with the death and destruction he had unwittingly unleashed. However, the low profile is beginning to wear thin and he soon starts to crave the adrenalin rush of his former criminal ways. 

Little does he know that three very different women are about to enter his life and turn it upside-down. Soon Danny finds himself right back in the action.

But why has he been chosen? And does he have the appetite to pull off another job where the stakes are so lethally high?

Godesend By J.A . Marley
Bloodhound Blog Tour Extract


 A Mini – Mart Adventure 

When the scruffy-looking kid pulled out the gun and pointed it at the chump on the other
side of the cash register, Danny Felix thought, Here we go.
He felt his heart stir, his stomach muscles flex and his balls tighten.
Danny couldn’t deny it. He was excited.
Here he was, in the presence of a stick-up merchant, waving a gun around like they’d
seen too many cheesy Jean-Claude Van Damme movies.
“Nobody muthafuggin move!”
Wild eyes sat atop a scarf wrapped in a hoodie, Old Navy sweats pulled high to the waist.
Filthy, worn-down Converse sneakers completed an overall look that screamed desperation and deprivation.
Danny could smell the funk of nerves, bravado and good old-fashioned fear emanating
from the would-be thief. It was a familiar smell, one that he had, undoubtedly, emitted
himself in his early career. He watched as the gun thrashed around. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was a replica. It looked like a World War One vintage revolver, a Webley Mark IV.

To Danny’s mind, anyone who possessed a genuine Webley wouldn’t need to knock off a
Tom Thumb mini-mart off Florida’s Highway One.
The bandit whipped the fake gun around for added effect, to make sure anyone present
would know this was the real deal. It caused Danny to flash back, a gun in his own hand, faces filled with terror, suddenly compliant. He had to drag his attention back to the here
and now. Danny was the only other customer in the shop.
The stoner kid behind the counter looked bored, resigned to having to stick around after
his shift to tell cops about a robbery they would, from his bitter experience, do jack shit
about. Danny swept the store with his eyes, his head not moving, his own familiarity with such events allowing him to clock where the closed-circuit cameras were positioned. They were usually all in the same type of spots. He was certain that they had caught an image of him as he entered through the door from the side, and the one behind the stoner’s head was probably making a movie star of both him and the stick-up merchant right now. But, still, Danny thought he could have a little fun.
“You’re making a right fucking mess of this.”
It was the smallest of movements, but Danny knew he had the thief’s attention because
they turned their left foot slightly towards the door.
“Shut yo face muthafugga, what kin’ of turnt accent be that? I’m the bitch pointing the
gun right atcha, so do as I say!”
Danny shrugged. Bitch? So, this is a bandita rather than a bandit. Danny adopted a look
of sympathy. “I would, but I can’t stand to see someone making such a pig’s ear out of a
blag that should be so simple.”

The filthy left sneaker twitched toward the door again. The eyes above the scarf widened
then hardened in almost the same instant.
“Look at this, yo’ punk ass bitch. See this. I’ll smoke yo’ ass all over this sto.”
“You’re about to fail, bandita. First, you’ve wasted time chatting to me, enough to allow Captain America here to reach under the counter and hit his store’s panic alarm. The local coppers are probably en route right now. Secondly, you haven’t covered the angles behind you in the aisles since you stormed in. You don’t know about the bloke who is about to crack you across the head with a baseball bat.”
She flinched, glancing over her shoulder enough for Danny to make his move. He closed
the distance between them in one sweep, gripping her gun hand, bending the wrist back
beyond its natural angle. He pivoted his hips onto one leg, his other sweeping away her feet just above the ankles. As she dropped, the gun fell. Danny simply extended his left hand, the satisfying heft of the replica revolver meeting his palm, while his right arm locked around her head, pulling her off the floor. He tucked her head into the crook of his arm as you would a football.
“See, you didn’t know if there was someone there for sure. Pig’s fucking ear. “
The girl thrashed about, trying to scratch and pull at Danny’s hair. He simply tightened his grip, denying her airways full capacity. Her fight soon waned.
Nearly limp, he lowered her to the floor.
“What you should have done, quick as you like, is march straight to the cashier. The gun
should have been practically down his throat whilst scanning the store to make sure that
there really was only the three of us in here. Then, demand the money, asking for it to be
done fast and, if needs be, pull the hammer back on the revolver to show you mean proper business.”
As he said it, Danny carried out the instructions.
Stoner Kid’s eyes were wide with his arms in the air. He almost reached down to pop the
cash register open until Danny gently shook his head at him. Bandita had pushed herself
into a sitting position, her breath coming in short rasps.

Danny continued: “Except you couldn’t pull the hammer back on the gun because it’s a
bleeding replica. And as for your accomplice? He or she is taking a month of Sundays to
work out you might be in trouble. I haven’t heard a squeal of tires yet, which means… three, two, one…”
On cue, the shop door flew open. Bandit number two entered like a whirlwind, with
another ancient-looking handgun being waved around.
The accomplice didn’t scan the scene either but came straight at Danny at speed.
Danny shifted his weight, matching the oncoming velocity of the attacker. They met
halfway. Danny put all his weight into a straight-arm punch. It arrowed onto the bridge of the accomplice’s nose. The explosion of blood was like a scene from a Rocky movie. And as suddenly as it had all kicked off, it was over. Danny turned to the stoner kid behind the counter.
“That… that was fucking cool, dude.” The stoner pushed his lank, greasy hair away from
his eyes. “Man, this is fun and games, but I’m the asshole who’s still gonna have to hang
around to answer dumb cop questions. Except…”
Danny couldn’t believe it as the kid slapped his own forehead. “Oh man, I forgot to push
the panic button…”
Danny cocked his head. By Danny’s assessment, the stoner kid probably had a brain that
was ten percent water and ninety percent THC. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Colt… Hi… What’s yours…?”

Danny strode to the door and flipped the ‘open’ sign to read ‘closed.’ “We can play this
one of two ways, Colt. You can go out back and call the Old Bill, the cops, and we can waste the rest of our evening talking to Bozo the Donut Eater, or you could go back there and erase the last hour of your CCTV and report a malfunction in the little log book you keep. You have one of those, right?” Colt nodded slowly.
“And, in turn, I will dispose of Bonnie and Clyde here for you, in a non-lethal, community- relations kind of way, and we can all go about our lives.”
“I dunno, man. I should really report this…”
Danny spread his arms wide, making a face like a cheesy De Niro in one of his later,
dreadful movies.
“You won’t hurt ’em, Mister…?”
“As God’s my judge, kid…”
Colt’s face warmed with a grin. He nodded his agreement.
“Okay, Colt. Give me your belt.” Danny was already taking off his own. Colt hesitated as if
to protest, but then obliged.
Danny secured the two would-be rip-off artists with the belts. Securing the late-arriving
accomplice, he was surprised to discover they were both female and white, despite the
attempts to sound ghetto tough. He grabbed a magic marker from a nearby shelf and
pocketed it.
“When I’m gone, Colt, park their car up in one of your furthest parking bays. Make sure
when you erase the CCTV that you erase all the cameras, even the one that covers the
forecourt. too. ”
Colt nodded again enthusiastically as they exited out into the parking lot.
Danny bundled the pair into the back cab of his pick-up truck. Colt watched, a question
hovering on his lips as Danny slid behind the wheel.
“You sure you won’t hurt ’em?”
Danny reached inside his pocket, pulling out a hundred-dollar bill. “This should cover my
bottle of bourbon, the marker and the Funyuns, plus your belt, too, Colt…”
“Uh, okay… and hey, Mister… How’d you know their names were Bonnie and Clyde?”

Buy now.

About the author.

John A. Marley’s writing career started with a poem about two brothers who both liked sausages…their names were Butch and Dutch and his Primary School teacher Mr. Murray liked it so much it made the main noticeboard at the entrance to Holy Child Primary School in West Belfast.  A little older but none the wiser, he ended up as a film journalist in his native Northern Ireland, contributing to local newspapers, BBC Radio Ulster and latterly writing as the main film critic for the glossy magazine, Northern Woman.

John’s love of good stories came from the Irish predilection for telling a good yarn and the fact that there was nothing quite like sneaking away his Dad’s battered paperbacks to read even though he knew they were meant for adults and not kids. And so pulp fiction such as The Edge Westerns by George G. Gilman, the adventure novels of Alistair MacLean and the thrillers of Jack Higgins all served to whet his appetite for a good story told at pace.

These days, his reading tastes still focus on thrills, spills and good plot and he can’t walk by a James Lee Burke or an Elmore Leonard without pausing to read a few pages…even if it is in a busy bookshop. 

 John A. Marley is also a TV producer with a proven track record in creating and producing distinctive, original entertainment and factual programming and formats for both a UK and international audience. His eclectic portfolio of high-profile shows include Britain’s Ultimate Pilots: Inside the RAF, Britain’s Flying Past, Staraoke, Best of Friends, Skatoony, Noel’s House Party, Through the Keyhole, SMTV:Live/CD:UK, How Euro Are You? and live coverage of “The Oscars” with Barry Norman.

John runs his own production company Archie Productions which he launched in 2008. Prior to setting up his own indie, John enjoyed a wide and varied career in television will creative roles at Talent Television, Planet 24, Carlton Television and Walt Disney UK. John’s broadcast media career started in his native Northern Ireland as a radio host.

Godsend is the follow up to John’s debut novel, Standstill in which we first met master thief Danny Felix.





#BlogTour! #Extract – A Grand Old Time by Judy Leigh (@JudyLeighWriter) @AvonBooksUK

A Grand Old Time - Blog Tour

Judy Leigh is having ‘A Grand Old Time’ today! Not bad for a Monday at all! It’s my turn to host Judy and her new book today, as I share an extract from ‘A Grand Old Time’. Thank you to Avon for the blog tour invite, as well as a copy of the book.


An uplifting, feelgood comedy that proves it’s never too late to have the time of your life.

Evie Gallagher is regretting her hasty move into a care home. She may be seventy-five and recently widowed, but she’s absolutely not dead yet. And so, one morning, Evie walks out of Sheldon Lodge and sets off on a Great Adventure across Europe.

But not everyone thinks Great Adventures are appropriate for women of Evie’s age, least of all her son Brendan and his wife Maura, who follow a trail of puzzling text messages to bring her home.

When they finally catch up with her, there are shocks in store . . . because while Brendan may have given up on life and love, Evie certainly has not.


Evie was oblivious to the changes outside as the plane started its descent. Paul was asleep, his trout mouth puffing out air. Danny, noticing the plane’s trajectory, looked furtively at Evie to check she was calm and then began extolling the virtues of Steven Gerrard’s free kick and how his slip-up against Chelsea had cost him the Premiership title before he retired. Evie was smiling, but there was a whistling sensation in her ears and a nagging feeling that she might find her route out of Liverpool Airport a little difficult to negotiate.

‘I liked him, that John Lennon one,’ she mused. ‘It was a bloody shame they shot him.’
‘Whereabouts you going in Liverpool, Evie?’ Danny raised an eyebrow, pushing Paul upright, before his head flopped onto Danny’s shoulder.
‘I need to find myself a hotel for a few days. Can you recommend …?’
‘Yeh, no probs – we’ll get you a taxi to the city centre when we get out, won’t we, Paul?’
Paul continued to sleep, a snore rattling in his mouth. The wheels on the plane bumped against the runway; the brakes came on and Danny took up the conversation quickly. ‘So, you doing anything special in Liverpool, Evie? Besides shopping.’
Evie wasn’t sure. So she said, ‘Yes. I’m visiting my son.’
‘Oh? Does he live in Liverpool?’

She considered for a moment. ‘No, he’s meeting me there.’ She had drunk too much and suddenly mischief popped like a champagne cork in her head. ‘He’s a rock star.’
Danny looked directly at Evie. ‘A rock star? Anyone famous?’
Danny’s face loomed drunk and earnest. It was time for another small performance. Evie sat upright, stretched her arms and swept a hand through her hair. ‘Oh yes, my son’s quite famous. I’m sure you’ll have heard of him. He’s a singer and he plays with his band all over the world. He’s called Bono.’
Danny sat up straight, jerking Paul to a seated position. They stared at each other. Paul blinked and Danny poked him with his elbow and gave a little laugh.
‘Bloody hell, Paul,’ breathed Danny. ‘We just got drunk with Bono’s ma.

Buy now!

#BlogTour! #Extract – The Rebel by Jaime Raven (@JaimeRaven1) @AvonBooksUK

The Rebel Blog Tour
I’m feeling all rebellious today! Are you a rebel, or are you THE REBEL?! I am delighted to be hosting Jaime Raven’s latest novel, ‘The Rebel’ today as part of the blog tour organised by Avon. Whilst I am not reviewing the book today, please don’t fret as it is on my TBR list where I’m sure a review will follow as soon as its read. I am however, excited to be sharing an extract from the book. Big thanks to Avon for the ARC and the blog tour invite!


Sometimes you have to take the law into your own hands…

DI Laura Jefferson will do whatever it takes to bring down London’s most notorious crime boss. When her team receive a deadly threat – stop their investigation or the police and their families will be targeted – but they aren’t willing to back down…

Then the killings begin.

A new body is turns up every day, and with no leads, Laura knows she has to take action. Her family is innocent and she’ll stop at nothing to protect them.

When someone close to her is hurt, she’ll break every rule in the book to get vengeance.


So the die was cast, and Roy Slack wondered how long it would be before the cops came knocking on his door. He was sure to be their prime suspect, but since there was no hard evidence linking him to the message all he had to do was deny knowing anything about it. Before sending the text, Danny had asked him if he was sure it was the road he wanted to go down.

‘I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,’ he’d told him. ‘The bastards have got this coming. And it won’t be enough to kill a couple of detectives. I want to put the Met itself on the spot. I want the world to see what a useless bunch of tossers they really are. And this is the only way I can think of doing that in the time I have left.’
That conversation had taken place an hour ago. Now Slack and his eight top lieutenants were sat around the long table in the conference room above the pub in Rotherhithe. These were the men who effectively ran his businesses. They carried out his orders and were paid handsomely for their loyalty. There was a hierarchy of sorts and even an organisational chart. Danny Carver was second-in- command and had a roving remit.

The others oversaw different parts of the operation. Frank Piper took care of the drugs. Billy Lightfoot was in charge of the clubs and restaurants. Adam Clarke ran the brothels and protection rackets. Clive Miller looked after the warehouses – and so on.
Below them was a small army of enforcers, bean counters, lawyers, bent coppers and a bevy of corrupt local authority officials. Slack kicked off the meeting by telling them what they already knew – that they were now in the Old Bill’s line of fire.
Frank Piper voiced the concerns of all of them when he said, ‘After what’s happened to Fuller and the others we’re all worried, boss. The bastards are really gonna put the squeeze on us.’

Slack leaned forward, elbows on the table, and a spark of irritation flashed in his eyes.
‘There’s no need to get your bollocks in a twist, Frank,’ he said. ‘We’ve known for a while that this was coming and we’ve already put some measures in place to protect ourselves. You guys just have to keep your nerve and avoid making any stupid mistakes.’
He wasn’t going to tell Piper and the others what he planned to do and why. It’d serve no useful purpose. Unlike Danny they wouldn’t understand and they couldn’t be trusted not to turn against him when the killings began and the pressure really stacked up.

He didn’t care if they refused to believe that he wasn’t responsible. All he cared about now was using this opportunity to go out with a bang, and to punish the Old Bill for what they had done to him. It was why he was willing to shell out three million dollars to a Mexican drugs baron in order to get the job done. Throughout his life he’d been in conflict with the police. He blamed them for what happened to his Julie and the last straw came when they killed Terry Malone. It was the reason he hated them with every fibre of his being. And why he wanted to settle the score before it was too late.

Buy now from Amazon

#BlogTour! #Review – The Summer Theatre by the Sea by Tracy Corbett (@TracyACorbett) @AvonBooksUK #Extract

Blog Tour (4)
It may be a dreary start to a brand new week, but today I have the pleasure of reviewing a book with a cover that will bring some well needed sunshine to your Monday. For my stop on Tracy Corbett’s blog tour, not only will I be bringing you a review of ‘The Summer Theatre by the Sea’, I will also be treating you to a little extract from the book itself, just to whet your appetite. What more could you want on a Monday? As always, huge thanks to Avon for the blog tour invite, as well as the ARC of the book. Here is my review:


A summer to remember…

Charlotte Saunders has always loved the buzz of city life. So, when she finds herself abruptly fired, dumped and forced to leave London to move in with her sister Lauren in Cornwall, she thinks the world is ending.

To keep herself busy in the quiet coastal town, Charlotte agrees to help the local drama club. Designing sets for their performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, just for the summer, while she figures out her next career move. But could days at the beach, new friends and a dashingly handsome doctor, change Charlotte’s mind? Suddenly Cornwall doesn’t look so boring after all…

What does TWG think?

I wasn’t too surprised to see that this book was set in Cornwall, although my eyes did roll a little bit! Just to clarify, I don’t have anything against Cornwall – I have never physically been there! Thanks to the wonders of fiction however, I have maybe visited Cornwall once to twice….it certainly is a popular setting for books these days, that’s for sure!

Thankfully, whilst the setting was a big deal for the overall storyline, it didn’t overshadow the characters at all which I loved as they stood out a lot more. They were allowed to shine in various different ways and I must say, I was thoroughly entertained! ‘The Summer Theatre by the Sea’ does contain a lot of characters so if you can keep up with a bit of character switching, you really would adore this book! Sisters, Charlotte and Lauren, could not be more different. Both live such different lifestyles, and both have incredibly different views on how to live their live. Having lost the closeness of their relationship over the years, the sisters now have a chance to re-build those bridges and make up for lost time. It’s just a shame that people had to get ‘hurt’ in order for them to realise what they needed to do…

I genuinely thought this book was going to be light, fluffy and picturesque. Whilst the author nailed the latter no bother, I couldn’t help but be surprised when the storyline engulfed me in such turbulence and emotion. I didn’t see it coming at all but I loved how the dynamic of the storyline changed over the course of the novel.

Being a single mum myself, I had my pom poms out for Lauren from the get go! My heart couldn’t have felt more sorry for her if it had tried – it was such a shame to see her in such a predicament, especially when pride had gotten in the way to stop her from becoming embarrassed. Asking for help isn’t a bad thing, but for Lauren, asking for help would have been the most disastrous thing she had ever done. I LOVED Flo and Freddie, they had me in hysterics more than once and, despite being a work of fiction, I thought that Lauren had done a fantastic job bringing up two grounded, charismatic and loveable children, all whilst dealing with a situation which ended up removing parts of her own personality. Tracy Corbett is a star in my eyes for the way she has portrayed a single mum and I really do thank her for that.

As for the rest of the book – there was so much happening! I won’t divulge details, but ‘The Summer Theatre by the Sea’ really does have something for everyone. I thoroughly enjoyed reading about many colourful characters such as Barney Hubble and Dusty! They may seem like two people who don’t fit in, but I can assure you that the story wouldn’t have been the same without either of them.

Tracy Corbett had me giggling, sighing and feeling emotional, all thanks to her joyful and impassioned storyline which, despite having many laugh out loud moments, ended up highlighting such an important message. You only get one chance at life, why spend it doing something you hate? Why spend it living your life for other people? Why spend it feeling guilty for making decisions based on your own circumstances, rather than going along with someone else’s choices because they prefer it? Many of the characters in this book stepped out of their comfort zones by attempting new things, changing their ways, or by finally listening to their own intuition.

It may have been a ‘Summer Theatre by the Sea’, but it was a story which resonated with me and made me think. Such an enjoyable, heartfelt and cosy read –  I highly recommend curling up with a cuppa, a bar of chocolate, and a dose of the ‘The Summer Theatre by the Sea’.

Buy now from Amazon


Barney Hubble leant against the iron railings and drew in a breath of salty air as he watched a fishing boat drag its nets from the water. There was nothing remarkable about this particular Tuesday evening in May, and yet the sight of the water sparkling under the fading daylight and the rush of waves ebbing and flowing over the sandy beach below, was strangely hypnotic. How different his life was now compared to back in London.

For a start, he walked everywhere. He’d never walked anywhere in London, other than endlessly marching up and down hospital corridors. And he swam most days, relishing the battle of challenging riptides and the exhilaration of diving into freezing-cold water, feeling his skin contract beneath his wetsuit. He was also able to indulge in his passion for music. He didn’t earn much from his gigs, but he enjoyed it and it made him feel alive … unlike when he’d worked on the hospital wards and he’d felt permanently dead.

As a kid, he’d learnt both guitar and piano at school before progressing to singing in bands. He’d never ventured into acting before, but last summer his housemates had coerced him into joining the local amateur dramatics group. Despite his initial reluctance, he’d discovered that it was a great way to make new friends and ingrain himself into the local community. Something he hadn’t even known he’d wanted, and certainly something he’d never experienced in London.

His parents had never been big fans of hobbies. It was all work, work, work, for Henry and Alexa Hubble. A philosophy they’d tried to instil into their son. Not that he was against hard work, he just wanted more from life. Maybe it was selfish, but specialising was his parents’ dream, not his. He’d given med school his all, but nothing had prepared him for the relentless onslaught of being a junior doctor.