Monday, 11 September 2017

AVAILABLE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!

Blurb:

Life is full of decisions and it’s the split-second ones that change your world forever.

Nick Shepherd made such a decision on the day his son, Jesse, was taken from a Christmas market in Naperville. The woman looked normal and had a son of her own, and he was only going to be a minute. But that minute was all she needed. His son was gone. 

A year later, the task force is being downsized and they are no closer to finding Jesse than they were the day he disappeared. At his wits end, Nick is given a number and a name by the lead on the case.

Ex-detective Frank Ford has issues, several of them. Two steps shy of a full-blown alcoholic, all he wants is to bury himself in the bottle. He’s doing a pretty good job of it, too, when Nick Shepherd asks for his help. Does Ford want to help? No. Is Ford going to help? Hell no. Until four words resonate deep within him.

“She took my son!” 

BUY LINK: Amazon


Blurb:

Little Mowbury is a sleepy English village deep in the Cotswolds. The kind of village where you’re only a local if your lineage can be traced back to the dinosaurs. Where you can find everything in the single shop from morning newspapers to dry-cleaning, and getting your shoes mended. And, of course, where everybody knows everybody else’s business. It’s easy to find… you can’t miss it… just ask anyone and they’ll tell you… “It’s left at the crossroads.”

After being dumped on graduation day by the love of his life, Harry Boyd, Micah Lewis returned to the sleepy village he grew up in. Living next door to his mother wasn’t his best idea, granted, but when your heart was broken, there really was no place like home. 

Six years later, secure and content in his job as midwife for a local birthing centre, the last person he expected to move into Lilac Cottage across the street from him was Harry Boyd. Seeing Harry again sends Micah into a tailspin and opens wounds he thought had long since healed. Although, Harry himself isn’t the only issue Micah has to face. That would be Harry’s very beautiful and very pregnant partner, Selena. But is everything as it seems?

BUY LINK:  Amazon


Blurb:

Little Mowbury is a sleepy English village deep in the Cotswolds. The kind of village where you’re only a local if your lineage can be traced back to the dinosaurs. Where you can find everything in the single village shop from morning newspapers to dry-cleaning, and getting your shoes mended. And, of course, where everybody knows everybody else’s business. It’s easy to find… you can’t miss it… just ask anyone and they’ll tell you… “It’s left at the crossroads.”
Oliver Bradford has had enough of the hustle and bustle of the A&E department in a big city hospital. Not to mention the tension caused by the break-up of his three year relationship with one of the hospital’s top surgeons. When his sister urges him to apply for the position of GP in the quiet village of Little Mowbury, he wonders if this might be just the fresh start he needs. Unfortunately, hitting the post-mistresses’ dog with his car isn’t the best introduction to his patients.

A solitary soul, Deano Wells grew up in Little Mowbury and has been having lunch at the Thatcher’s Arms on a Thursday for the last thirty-five years. First with his father, who brought him to the pub at the tender age of ten after a hard morning in the fields, and then by himself after his father passed on. He runs the farm with a practised hand and minds his business mostly, but that doesn’t stop Oliver from being drawn to the big, quiet man and he knows the feeling is mutual, so why does Deano keep pushing him away?

BUY LINK:  Amazon

Blurb:

2nd Edition - re-edited with additional and expanded scenes.

The Downe's Valentine's Day Masquerade Ball has been an annual event for over a hundred 
years and where, four years ago, Gabe met Mike. It's been over six months since Mike's death and Mike thinks that Gabe is ready to move on. How does Gabe know this? He receives a letter and a ticket to the ball, from Mike. Gabe isn't sure he'll ever be ready to move on, but in deference to Mike's memory, he attends the ball. 

What Gabe doesn't know, is that his best friend, Tom, the one constant in his life since college, has also received a letter from Mike. Will Gabe be able to move forward and remember a long forgotten love, or will his world come crumbling down around his ears, again?

BUY LINK:  Amazon

Saturday, 9 September 2017

FIRST WEEK IS OVER!

I know, in the grand scheme of things, my week has certainly not been as eventful as other people's, but I've been dealing with a few emotional and stressful changes in my home life.

As most of you know, the glamorous assistant I refer to on my blog, the picker of competition winners, is my 11-year-old daughter, my baby. For said baby, and her nervous mother, this has been a big week.

She started senior school (high school).

Here she is, all dressed and ready for her first day in her brand new grown-up uniform with her big brother who is going into 9th grade.

Was she worried? No. Was she upset? No. Was she a gibbering wreck of a child who wanted to climb back into her mummy's arms and tell her everything was going to be okay? No. That was me!

She was meeting one of her friends at the end of the road Monday morning, then they were picking up three more on the way, so I knew she was going to be alright. Of course, I asked her if she was okay to walk down the road on her own, or did she want me to walk with her and wait for Kira? Did she look at me with tear filled blue eyes and a wobbling lip, giving me the only answer I needed? Good God no. Her response, as she looked at me as if I'd dribbled on myself, was....

"You can if you want."

Not quite the Kodak moment I was hoping for but, of course, I was going to go anyway, whether she wanted me to or not. So we walked sedately along. Me, unwashed and hair unbrushed (I didn't have time for all that. There was too much panicking and checking to be done) her with perfectly coiffed barnet, pressed uniform, backpack slung over her shoulder and a crease in her pants so sharp I'm surprised she didn't cut herself putting them on. The hubby trailed behind us with a rueful smile on his face, knowing he was there to make sure I didn't make a complete tit of myself by bursting into tears in front of anyone. My ability to hold back the emotion was sorely tested when, for the first time in her entire life, she refused to hold my hand as we walked along, but I held it together.

We waited for her friend. I checked her backpack three times and asked her if she had her lunch twice, even though I'd just seen it in the backpack I'd checked a nano-second earlier. She rolled her eyes at me. Hubby reigned me in. Not a moment too soon, as I brushed her fringe from her eyes for the eighteenth time and tried not to punch her when she pushed it back for the eighteenth time, Kira arrived and off they went. Hubby, very wisely, herded me back the two hundred yards to our house and pushed me inside. Which I was eternally grateful for, because if he hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to jump into my car the moment his was out of sight as he headed to work, and drive after them to make sure they were alright. (But don't tell anyone - it's just between us!)

The first day was torture as I thought of my tiny tot weaving her way through the crowds of big kids, getting pushed this way and that. I tried to work but didn't get very far, so ended up scraping wallpaper off the hall wall to keep myself occupied.

Of course, you all know the ending to this story - she came home full of everything, her new form, her new classes, her new friends. She even said she'd seen her brother in the dinner hall and they'd nodded at each other - they didn't speak, obviously, cause that wouldn't have been cool.

She's been absolutely fabulous the rest of the week, too. And I was surprised to note that, at half nine on a Friday night, she was snoring away in her bed. I'm liking that bit! And four days into her first week she got her first class merit - she's so chuffed.

I know we have to let them go, find their own way and we can't wrap them up in cotton wool and, to be honest, I never have been a clingy mother. And I know I joke about them a lot on facebook, but I do like them really. They're the best thing I've ever done. And when I tucked her in tonight and said, "I'm so proud of you for doing so well in your first week at big school. You're not my baby anymore." Her response was a bit better than the one I got Monday morning. She said, "Doesn't matter how old I get, you silly. I'll always be your baby." I should have grabbed that Kodak moment and ran from the room with it clenched in my sweaty little palms, but I paused for too long and she added, "Until you're dead." *Shakes head* That's my girl!

Tuesday, 5 September 2017

CHRISTMAS PLANS

Sue Brown and I have plans for Christmas.

No, we're not spending it together - although that would have been lovely - but our families won't let us bugger off to somewhere hot while their left to cook Christmas dinner and listen to the Queen's speech.

In lieu of this, we decided that we'd do something even more fun..... writing the fourth instalment of the Left at the Crossroads series!

Due for release the first week of December, here is the cover for In-tuition, by the lovely as always Meredith Russell. I can't wait!


REVIEW: DISH OF THE DAY BY CLARE LONDON

Blurb:

Three men together. Diverse tastes ... one common love.
Richie Morton’s sunk all his hopes and savings into a new restaurant in South London promoting British ingredients and recipes. Yet on opening night, it all seems to be heading for disaster. Lost ingredients, manic chefs, no sign of the customers ... he’s in despair. And where are his best friends Craig and Ben, who’ve been helping him set up the new venture? The least they could offer is moral support.

When they do eventually step in, though, they offer support of a very different kind. They tell Richie some home truths -- that he pushes himself too much, and must learn to share and trust his life with others. With them, specifically. And then, when Richie’s still unconvinced, they decide to let actions speak for their love instead. They’ll help him relax and dish up a caring, sexy, and far more intimate menu.

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

    “We like things that are comfortable, don’t we, Ben?” Craig grinned and hugged Richie even more warmly. Richie wondered guiltily about personal space issues. But as his friends had made plenty of comments tonight about his reserve, he didn’t want to be the one to cause a fuss if they were now too close. And who was to say it was too close?

    “Yes.” Ben agreed with Craig. “Those are the things that we like, indeed.” His eyes sparkled. “And we’d like to share them with you, Richie.”

    “Share what?” Richie asked, rather rudely. He’d only just swallowed another mouthful of wine and was still enjoying the aftertaste on his tongue. But so was Ben, it seemed. He was sipping deeply from the same glass that he’d offered to Richie. His eyes shone at Richie over the rim as if they were sharing a secret, rather than a wine.

    Richie sighed, leaning back in his chair. Craig’s arms tightened gently around him. It also felt as if Ben rested a hand at the back of his neck -- an unusual place to comfort a friend, perhaps, even one facing bankruptcy and ruin.

    “Got an investment to protect, eh, Ben?” Craig laughed softly. Richie could smell his warm, spicy cologne. Craig always smelled good -- he exuded hot, sexy strength. Richie blinked, wondering where the hell that thought had come from. Or, even if he admitted he knew the answer to that, he didn’t know what had let it loose to frolic in the forefront of his mind. It must be the wine. Must be. His senses were in overload. Could he get drunk, just from a glass or so of quality wine? He’d never suspected his tolerance was that low. His shock must be much more severe than he imagined.

    “I don’t need protection,” he said. His voice sounded rather weak.

    Ben just smiled. “Sure, Richie. Craig still thinks you’re too skinny, though. Let’s eat first, then discuss anything else later, right?”

    Richie was about to protest that there were no staff -- that the soup was ruined -- that the whole evening had collapsed into disaster and amazement around him -- that Craig had already eaten most of the bread --

    But his friends ignored him.

    “So what do we have to tempt us?” Ben ran his eyes over the plate on the table beside him, full of the food Craig had brought out from the kitchen. Craig laughed softly, a lazy, sexy smile lighting up his face. He leant across Richie, and his long, slim fingers picked up a spear of asparagus, poached gently in butter. A drop of the warm, pale yellow coating dropped back into the dish with a plop.

    Richie wriggled on his seat. He felt awkward, suddenly, squashed between them. Their bodies were both pressed against him and he could feel the two heartbeats, beating in different rhythms to his.

    Craig pointed the asparagus across Richie and up towards Ben’s face, as if beckoning him. Their eyes met. Craig smiled and reached further forwards, the tip of the spear teasing at Ben’s mouth.

    “Mmm.” Ben’s voice was like a purr. “My favourite.”

    Richie watched the slim, green finger of food slide into Ben’s mouth. In fact, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Ben was the only thing he could focus on. The generous lips were round and moist around the asparagus. Ben sucked, and the tip slipped in smoothly. It was a very messy food. Of course it was. Richie stared as a generous dribble of melted butter ran down on to Ben’s chin. He reached out instinctively, and wiped it off with his fingertips.

    “Thanks.” Ben’s voice was very soft, the tone amused.

    Richie flushed and clumsily snatched his hand back. Ben’s skin had been soft and very warm, with barely the hint of evening stubble. The small, still sane part of Richie’s mind was appalled at how intimate his gesture had been.

    But Ben’s sigh was one of pleasure. He caught at Richie’s retreating hand, the fingers damp and glistening with the greasy traces of butter. “It’s very good,” he said. “You’re a brilliant chef. You produce the most perfect tastes. Is it surprising I want more?” He gently twisted Richie’s unresisting wrist, and brought Richie’s fingers back to his lips. Then he started to lick between the digits, slowly and lasciviously, lapping up the remains of the melted butter.

    Oh good God. Richie’s mouth opened wide to protest, but no words came out. The caressing tongue was rough like a cat’s, yet smooth like the pure, slick muscle it was. He couldn’t believe how exciting this was. “English,” he said, the word popping out without any forethought. “It’s the best English asparagus I could afford.”

    Ben nodded and smiled, and moved closer to him. His breath was now a seductive breeze against Richie’s cheek. “You should taste it yourself,” he murmured.

    Richie watched Ben’s nimble fingers wipe the residue from the corners of his perfect mouth, and then those dampened fingertips were reaching for Richie’s mouth, and they were pressing firmly in, and Richie’s lips were closing around them, instinctively -- hungrily.

    “Suck them,” Ben whispered softly. “I want to see you lick them all.”
REVIEW:

Dish of the Day is certainly what I'd pick off the menu! Short, sweet and hot, hot, hot!

Loved it, what more can I say? No one rights hot threesomes like Ms London and Dish of the Day will leave you full up and contented... but it's a bit like having a Chinese... a couple of hours later you want to read it again!

AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER NOW AT:  JMS BooksAmazon.com and Amazon.co.uk

Sunday, 27 August 2017

UNDENIABLE IS FREE FOR 5 DAYS AT AMAZON!

Blurb: 

Little Mowbury is a sleepy English village deep in the Cotswolds. The kind of village where you’re only a local if your lineage can be traced back to the dinosaurs. Where you can find everything in the single village shop from morning newspapers to dry-cleaning, and getting your shoes mended. And, of course, where everybody knows everybody else’s business. It’s easy to find… you can’t miss it… just ask anyone and they’ll tell you… “It’s left at the crossroads.”


Oliver Bradford has had enough of the hustle and bustle of the A&E department in a big city hospital. Not to mention the tension caused by the break-up of his three year relationship with one of the hospital’s top surgeons. When his sister urges him to apply for the position of GP in the quiet village of Little Mowbury, he wonders if this might be just the fresh start he needs. Unfortunately, hitting the post-mistresses’ dog with his car isn’t the best introduction to his patients.

A solitary soul, Deano Wells grew up in Little Mowbury and has been having lunch at the Thatcher’s Arms on a Thursday for the last thirty-five years. First with his father, who brought him to the pub at the tender age of ten after a hard morning in the fields, and then by himself after his father passed on. He runs the farm with a practised hand and minds his business mostly, but that doesn’t stop Oliver from being drawn to the big, quiet man and he knows the feeling is mutual, so why does Deano keep pushing him away?


BUY LINK: Amazon.comAmazon.co.uk

Tuesday, 22 August 2017

REVIEW: COINS NOT ACCEPTED BY CHRIS QUINTON

Blurb:
"Bring me the contents of the security box from the bank, and make sure you're not followed." Miles Carter carries out his grandfather's instructions, and finds himself caught up in a dangerous tangle of family mysteries - and the unexpected return of Allan Warwick, his childhood friend. Add to that a parallel world and a plot to overthrow its government, both of which seem to involve his grandfather and Allan. Miles' life will be changed irrevocably, but only if he and Allan can stay together and survive the coup.

Excerpt:
He opened the message, and straightened in his chair. I have sent you a letter and two keys. Take all precautions to make sure you are not being watched, and do not trust strangers. Follow the instructions and email me when you have them. Bring the items to me, but secretly. Leave your car at the Blue Bowl Inn in West Harptree and walk to the house via the footpaths and bridleways. Make sure no one sees you, and keep out of sight of the road. Come in by the back door. I will explain all later. Miles hadn't seen his namesake in the flesh for twelve years, not since the monumental dispute between his parents and Miles Westerman. They'd left Westerley Court and East Harptree for the Norfolk coast the same day, and rented an apartment until they bought a house in the village of Hemsby. His mother had been adamant that the rift remain, and nothing he or his father said over the years persuaded her to soften her resolve. "Like father, like daughter," his father had muttered, "stubborn as Army mules," but the family remained estranged. She had been equally resolute in refusing to say what the issues were, and the echo of Cecelia Carter's normally soft-spoken voice cut into his memory: "There is nothing he can do or say that will change my mind. He is paranoid and delusional and I will not have my children involved in his madness. I don't care how rich he is, Miles Westerman is certifiably insane." An old guilt twinged Miles' conscience. Ever since they'd left Somerset, he had maintained a clandestine contact with the old man, who'd advised him to keep it that way even after Miles moved into his own place in Great Yarmouth. His grandfather also turned down every suggestion that they meet. They kept in touch by email and phonecalls, talking about nothing much in particular - the Harptree gossip and news, keeping Miles up to date with the village goings-on. Miles Senior studiously avoided all mention of what had caused the rift with Cecelia, and had shown no sign of paranoia or delusions that Miles could recall. Until now.

Review:
Wow - what just happened to me? The world building Chris Quinton does in this book is spellbinding. I was completely engrossed in the parallel world she'd created and wondered how the hell she came up with this stuff! Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Tense. Cerebral. Romantic. It was all in there and left you feeling completely satisfied at the end, but if there is a sequel, I'm right on it!

And I tell you something, I won't be able to look at a telephone box the same way again! Quick, go get your copy!

Buy link: Amazon

Sunday, 20 August 2017

STEP BACK IN TIME SUNDAY!

It's still Sunday here... for another five minutes... so I have time to squeeze in this week's group.
I must confess that this has always been a favourite of mine - even more so since I walked down the aisle to it at my wedding eight weeks ago!

I hope you enjoy - I know it did quite well over the pond, too!