About Me

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Clare writes inspirational romance, usually of a suspenseful nature. Her books are available through her publisher Pelican Book Group and Amazon. She is married with three kids and lives in the UK. She loves watching sci-fi, crime drama, cross stitching, reading and baking.

Friday, 5 August 2016

Forget me nots in September


Today sees the release of book #9 in the Flowers Can Be Fatal series.. I can't believe its time for this one already.


Blurb: On his third tour of duty in Afghanistan Lt. Col. Bev King signs up for the parcel service. He likes the contact from home, appreciates the generosity and thoughtfulness of his benefactor, and is intrigued by this woman who lives in the same town as his grandmother.

Jude Travis loves sending care packages to servicemen and is thrilled when "her squaddie" replies. A rapid letter exchange follows, and when he comes home on R&R they meet.

But Jude is being stalked, and Bev might just get snagged in the crossfire. Will this whirlwind romance cause repercussions? Could coming home be more dangerous for Bev than staying in a combat zone?

extract:
“Please. Talk to me, Jude. You’ll feel better for telling someone, I promise.”
“OK.” She paused, wondering how to say it without it making her sound like an idiot of the first degree. “I keep seeing the same car all over, but then it’s a small town, so you would. And I see the same people at the same time each day. But again, that’s only normal in a town like this one. It’s just me being stupid, that’s all.”
Bev pulled away from the lights. “That doesn’t sound stupid to me and someone breaking into the shop in a mask isn’t normal, no matter how you try to pass it off. What does this bloke look like?”
“Tonight the guy was in a mask but the man I’ve been seeing is tall, has a beard and dark hair,” she said automatically. “He’s just everywhere I am. Follows me when I go for a walk, or go shopping, stuff like that.”
He frowned. “Have you reported it?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“You should.” He stopped at a junction before turning right.
“And tell the police what?” Jude pushed a hand through her hair. “That I think I’m being followed by a bloke who probably lives in the same street I do? He’s undoubtedly a customer or something, and what if I’m just being paranoid?”
“Paranoia aside, there’s no harm in asking for advice,” he told her bluntly. “I would in your shoes. They won’t call you silly or ignore you. They’d rather give advice and chase up something that turns out to be nothing, than have to inform a family of a death or something. Call 101 when we get back. Better still, do it from Gran’s while I check out your place. I don’t want you getting in to find someone hiding in the lounge with a crowbar.”
“OK, thank you. I don’t have my phone. It’s at home in the kitchen charging up.”
“You can use ours.” He parked and opened the door for her. His hand rested against her back in a protective motion as he guided her inside. “Gran?”
“In the kitchen.”
Bev led Jude down the hallway. “Someone broke into the shop and Jude needs to call the police. I said she could use our phone while I check out her place.” He held a hand out. “I’ll need your keys.”
Jude reached into her bag for them and managed a grin. “Bossy.”
“No, just used to giving orders.” Bev winked at her. “And that’s Lt. Col. Bossy to you.”
“I’ll put the kettle on and make you some sweet tea,” Mrs. Bowen said. “The phone is in the lounge, dear. Bev will show you.”
Bev led her into the lounge to make the call. He handed her the phone. “You’re perfectly safe here. I’ll be right back.”
“OK.” Jude took the handset and debated calling 101 or Milly. 101 would connect her to the local nick, but Milly was a DI and a friend and would tell her not to be so stupid as to let her worries and idiocies get to her. She plumped for Milly.
The phone rang twice. Milly answered as the doorbell rang. “DI Jenson.”
“Milly, it’s me. Something happened at work and I was told to report—” She broke off as a familiar voice came from the hallway. She peeped around the door. A man stood there, peaked cap hiding his face, clipboard in his hand.
“I’m really not interested,” Mrs. Bowen said.
“I’ll just leave you some information—”
Jude backed away, pressing into the wall behind the door.
“Jude?” Milly’s voice echoed from the phone. “Jude, are you there?”
Jude cut off the call and dropped the phone. She buried her face in her hands. Bev said she’d be safe here, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t safe anywhere.




Amazon UK
Amazon US
Pelican Book Group

Friday, 11 March 2016

Sweetpeas in April by Clare Revell


Blurb: Adam West, a high powered lawyer gets the shock of his life when he arrives to meet a new client. She’s the wife he hasn’t seen since they separated ten years ago.
Sam Reece doesn’t need the added complication of working with the husband who abandoned her a decade ago. She’s tried hard to put her failed marriage behind her, going back to her maiden name even though they never got divorced. The situation is bad enough as it is, but it seems Adam is the only person who can help.
Can they ever move past the tragedy of the past or will its long shadow prevent them ever working together?

extract:

His shirt sleeve brushed her cheek as he explained. “I took the files from your computer via a USB pen and ran them through a particular piece of software I have. The red line is the account run by Max Holder. The blue is the account run by Troy Branning. This is the amount of money missing, where it went, and so on.”
“What’s the yellow line mean? Other than the circle line on the Underground?”
“Cute.” There was a faint smile on his voice before it turned serious again. “The yellow line is a huge problem. It’s a vast amount of money that I can’t trace.”
“What?” Sam straightened so fast the back of her head collided with Adam’s shoulder.
He hissed in pain and stood properly.
“Sorry,” she apologized, as he rubbed his shoulder. “Where did you get that from? Is there a third person involved here?”
He dragged his chair around to her side of the desk and sat. “I’ve been here since three o’clock this morning extrapolating data and following the money.”
Sam looked at him, dismay coursing through her. “How could I not have seen this?”
“It’s well hidden.” Adam massaged his shoulder again, then let his hand fall to his lap. “You probably weren’t meant to see it. Or find it until it was too late.”
“I need you to show me exactly where you found this data. I want to build my own model.”
“OK. But I don’t want you do it on your work computer.”
Her head jerked up to stare at him. “Why ever not?”
“Because your whole computer system is networked. Anyone can access anything anywhere on the system. As soon as you open a file, someone will be able to read it and see any changes you make to it, especially if they are monitoring the system, which they’d have to be to remain undiscovered this long.”
She pointed to his laptop. “What about yours?”
“It’s my work one. It has six firewalls and the password is double encrypted.”
She scowled. “Bet I could guess your password.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Says the woman whose password is always incorrect. That’s how I managed to get into your computer and lift the files in the first place.”
“Hey,” she said, defending herself. “At least that way if I forget it, the computer reminds me and says, ‘your password is incorrect.’”
Adam sighed. “Pick a new one. Something no one—including me—will guess.”

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Thursday, 3 March 2016

Touches of Time by LoRee Peery


Blurb:
A decades-old unsolved homicide.
A grieving single mother-to-be.
A cold-case investigator.
Sarah Bishop goes through her deceased mother’s belongings and becomes immersed in the details of her grandfather’s unsolved homicide. Determined to find who was responsible, for the sake of her unborn baby, Sarah vows to seek out the answers her mother had failed to find.
Cold Case Investigator Ford Melcher is intrigued by Sarah’s dogged drive to solve the old mystery. His current case has reached a frustrating dead end, but he comes to believe it is somehow linked to Sarah’s quest. His desire to protect her from further hurt is put to the test, especially when he has secrets he’d rather not disclose.
Answers could remain elusive as to who struck Sarah’s grandfather and left him in a ditch. Will the search for those answers open doors for her to discover the life God planned? Can she accept that plan if it includes a man who wasn’t forthright with information?


My Review:
Another winner. 5 stars.
Sara is expecting her first child and going through her late mothers things when she becomes determined to track down her grandfather’s murderer. A chance encounter with cold case investigator Ford is almost too good to be true, and when he takes on the case, they go through the evidence together, finding links in unexpected places.
This is another gripping read from LoRee Peery. It pulls you in from the start and won’t let you go. I both laughed and cried while reading this. Unputdownable is a word quite often bandied about these days, but this book really does that. The fact it is based partly on the author’s own experience, makes it an even more powerful and cathartic read. If you only read one book this year, make sure it’s this one.

You can buy a copy of the book HERE


In LoRee’s own words:

The cold case alluded to in Touches of Time is based on my father’s unsolved homicide. The old documents portion of the story is recorded in my own journals and notebooks.
The account of my father’s murder has been written twenty different ways. After all, I only know the event from my perspective at the time it happened. The rest is conjecture and left up to my imagination.
Over the years I got worked up enough to attempt to get things moving in the investigation. The quest for answers caused me to struggle with many uncertainties. Going through my files always stirs up myriad emotions as my mind travels back. Some memories have grown dim with time, yet others may carry the impact of immediacy forever.
I’ve imagined all kinds of conclusions to close this albatross that hovers over my family. I can still get riled over what I view as handled wrong initially. I’ve pictured a scene of death and a scene of justice for each alleged speculation.
My whole family has faced and dealt with the absence of resolution, or not.
As Sarah’s mother expressed in Touches of Time, I believe faith involves living without answers. God holds those answers, as well as control of the justice that belongs to Him alone. I know that. Yet, also knowing a killer went free has never left the back of my mind.
I have entrusted God with the long chapter of my life story that has an ending known only to Him. Even though there will always be questions regarding my father’s homicide, the ultimate answer is in the Lord’s hands.
This version of my story, a love between Sarah and Ford, ends with a happy ending, as all true romances wrap up. I praise my Lord for victory through grace.

I also thank my talented author friend Clare for the generous spot here today.

Tuesday, 16 February 2016

Remaining release dates for the flowers can be fatal series.

I now have release dates for the rest of the books in the flower series.


The series name is Flowers Can Be Fatal. All are available from the usual places plus direct from the publisher.

Carnations in Jan - out now
Violets in Feb - out now
Daffodils in March - out now
Sweetpeas in April - March 11
Lily of the Valley in May - April 4
Roses in June - May 20
Waterlilies in July - June 10
Gladioli in August - July 7
Forget me nots in Sept - Aug 5
Marigolds in Oct - Sept 9
'Mums in Nov - Oct 21
Holly in Dec - Nov 4
Dutch Crocus - TBA (still not galley'd yet)

And here's the series poem - the tagline of each book being the relevant line of said poem.

Carnations in January shake the foundations
Violets in February are an aid to salvation
Daffodils in March bring betrayal and loss
Sweet peas in April consume all the dross
Lily of the Valley in May brings danger untold
Roses in June show hope in a heart filled with gold
Water lilies in July a town will submerge
Gladioli in August love from the ash will emerge
Forget-me-nots in September are on the front line of fear
Marigolds in October will test her career 
Chrysanthemums in November show the burden of choice
Holly in December lets a broken family rejoice

Saturday, 13 February 2016

Adventures in crochet continue

For some reason I can't add photos from the iPad or phone. It tells me to download an app and then promptly tells me the app isn't available. Oh, the miracles of modern technology. So I shall email the photos to myself, download them onto the comp and edit this post later.

So today's blog is about my year long crochet project. A temperature blanket. There are loads of variations of this around right now, but I opted for a simple one. Using the basic granny square stitch,  a set of 3tc, c1, 3tc (for US ppl that's 3dc, c1, 3dc) with a foundation chain of 188 so it's wide enough for a double bed.

The colour depends on the average temp of the day, with a bit of white rows in if it snows. So far it's been from black, or below freezing, to pale green or 13C.

OK and having emailed a pic from the ipad to the comp, here it is.


Friday, 12 February 2016

Daffodils in March by Clare Revell


Blurb: Only given a week’s notice in her current job, Eden Jameson is desperately looking for something new. Being a nanny for her best friend and sister in law, Hanna, is the ideal solution to both their problems.
David Painter has other ideas. Having a stranger in the house could ruin everything he’s worked so long to achieve. He needs to get rid of this nanny and fast.
When Hanna dies unexpectedly, the reading of the will is a shock–Eden and David have been left joint custody of the baby and joint ownership of the house. Can they overcome their differences or is it too late?

Extract:

Eden made her way downstairs, and paused as hushed voices drifted up from the kitchen to meet her.
“Hanna, I can’t have someone else, another woman, in the house. How many times do I have to say this?”
“Am I one woman too many?”
“That’s not what I meant—” David’s voice rose.“—and you know it.”
Eden reached the foot of the stairs. She didn’t want to listen, yet fancied interrupting them even less. Caught between the metaphorical devil and the deep blue sea, she stood in the hallway, the conversation ringing in her ears and burning in her stomach.
“Well, it’s tough, David. Eden’s my friend as well as being Marc’s aunt. Therefore she’s not only a qualified nanny; she’s family and the ideal solution. I don’t see what your problem with her is. You two got on well enough once.”
“Not anymore, Han.”
“What went wrong between the two of you?”
“That is between me and Eden and no one else.” There was a long pause; presumably, he was pacing the room like he always did when he was angry or irritated. Then, he started speaking again, his voice too low to hear.
Really? He hadn’t even given Eden a good reason for them breaking up. One minute things were fine and the next he wanted nothing to do with her. Problem was her emotions didn’t just switch off as easily as his. Part of her still loved him and probably always would.



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Thursday, 11 February 2016

Violets in February by Clare Revell

blurb

When uptight missionary, Lucy Boyd is injured her only ride to the hospital 200 miles away is the scary looking guy who delivers their supplies every two weeks. Not only is he scary, he's obviously quite heathen based on the earring in his ear, the heavy metal music blasting from his truck when he pulls into the compound, and his salty language. Jed Gorman doesn't like people, especially Christians. Shuttled from foster home to foster home after the death of his parents, he's had enough "Christian Charity" to last a lifetime. The last thing he needs is that uptight missionary woman as a passenger. But when he sees that her knee is the size of a football he can't say no. It's going to be a rough ride, his truck is old, the monsoon season has hit, and there are guerrillas in the jungle...

extract:

Heavy booted footsteps clomped up the wooden steps outside and across the verandah. The door swung open, and he crossed the room, no doubt bringing in dust and sand to cover her newly swept floor. She could smell him from here. The intoxicating mix of pine and woods and mint that almost conflicted with the tough guy image Jed Gorman held out around him like a shield.
“Dr. Boyd.” His Australian accent rang through the clinic. “What’s a good looking sheila like you doing in back o’Bourke hole like this?”
“Working, Mr. Gorman. The same thing that you are.” Her answer, just like his greeting, never changed. She turned and ran her gaze over him. His sleeves were rolled up to just above his elbows, exposing well tanned, muscular arms wrapped around a crate. There was something about the man’s arms and the way the long vein from elbow to wrist stood out, that set her heart pounding.
But enough of that. Her mind shouldn’t go in such directions. Besides, Jed Gorman didn’t count as a man or eye candy or anything other than a menace.
He grinned at her. “Where do you want me?”