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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, 24 October 2014

Weep in the Night by Valerie Massey Goree


Weep in the Night by Valerie Massey Goree 
Blurb:
After three years in the witness protection program, Sadie Malone’s life in Texas is bland and humdrum—until she meets a new co-worker. Bowen Boudine ignites a flame in Sadie’s long-dormant heart, but when she discovers he knows her true identity, she attempts to flee. He thwarts her escape and reveals the reason he’s been sent to locate her.

Bowen, a seasoned operative with International Retrieval Organization takes his job escorting Sadie safely back to California seriously, but quickly finds he’s falling for her. Can he maintain a professional relationship while he protects her from the crime boss her testimony helped to convict? 

Extract:
ONE
She ran her finger across the white plastic nametag. Blue letters spelled out Debra Johnson, but that wasn’t her name.
The light bulb above the sink crackled and died. She hated the dark. Backing out of the bathroom, she leaned against the wall and flipped on the hall light. Shadows scuttled away but left a trace of unease in her gut.
Tears blurred her vision as she pinned the name tag on her shirt. It took two attempts to snag the pin in place. Get a grip, Sadie. You’re safe.
Although she’d been in the Federal Witness Protection Program for almost three years, she still thought of herself as Sadie Malone. Sometimes her past latched onto her soul and yanked her down to the depths of grief like a meteor plummeting to earth. Today would have been her husband’s thirty-seventh birthday. She closed her eyes. The faces of Aaron and Hannah, her four-year-old daughter, floated in and out of a gray mist. Gone. They were both gone.
A shiver took control of Debra’s body as ice crystals formed in her heart.
She would not succumb to despair.
Clenching her jaw, she hunted in the closet for a new bulb and installed it. Light cascaded as she glared in the bathroom mirror, chest heaving, and the corners of her mouth pointing south. The hall clock chimed the hour. Nine o’clock. Debra squared her shoulders and opened her cosmetic bag. No matter her emotional state, she needed to leave soon.
Miles Griffin, her local WITSEC contact, had found her the job and would be disappointed if she got fired. Dabbing on makeup, she paid special attention to her red-rimmed eyes. Couldn’t have curious co-workers bugging her with questions.
Sadie brushed her hair and arranged the short blonde curls to cover the dark roots. Time to schedule an appointment with Yolanda, but it would have to wait until her next day off. Dyeing her hair took time and money, which she sacrificed without complaint to keep her whereabouts secret.
Satisfied with the makeup’s camouflage, Debra headed to the kitchen for her salad sack lunch. She’d much prefer to eat a burger and fries, but patted her flat stomach and closed the refrigerator. No way would she gain back the weight she’d lost since being in WITSEC. Dressed for work in blue jeans, aqua T-shirt, and sneakers, she slid the nonprescription glasses on her nose and glanced in the hall mirror. The wire-rimmed frames changed her appearance. She sure didn’t look like Sadie Malone anymore.
When she stepped out of her corner, ground-floor apartment, she scanned the area for loitering strangers or anyone out of the ordinary. The whine of a power mower filled the air with the sweet smell of cut grass. Mrs. Gaffney watered plants by her front door; Lloyd Kaiser tinkered with his bicycle in front of his apartment, three doors down; Jodie Powers walked her pug. All familiar, all OK.
With a satisfied nod, Debra took the sidewalk to the parking area and climbed into her white mid-sized sedan. The economical, inconspicuous vehicle matched her circumstances. In it, she could be as invisible as possible. At times, she missed her SUV, but with no little girl to buckle into a car seat and no husband to laugh and talk with, the smaller vehicle suited her needs.
As she drove to Rhodes DIY Headquarters, a local home improvement store, she fingered her nametag. Debra Johnson wasn’t the only name change she’d had. Right after the trial in Los Angeles, still grieving for Aaron and Hannah, she’d been whisked to Seattle, known there as Sadie Mason.
She parked in the employee lot and glanced at her short nails as she removed the key from the ignition. At least in Seattle she had an office job. But her identity there had been compromised. Now, here in Austin, Texas, she worked at Rhodes in the garden center. Dirt under her nails, rough hands, aching back––nothing like her original job in technology. Computer expertise led to her placement in WITSEC. That meant no jobs in the computer industry for her ever again.
At least she had friends at Rhodes and that was important. She took a deep breath of the crisp morning air, still earthy from the overnight rain, and entered the store. Once in the break room, apron on, Sadie clocked in. Several people milled about.
“Hi, Debra. How was your weekend?”
Used to the name, she turned. “Hey, April. Great. It was nice to have two days off. How’s Victor?”
“So-so. He took me to meet his parents yesterday. Then he asked me to move in with him, but I told him no.” April, in her mid-twenties, a decade younger than Sadie, closed her locker and tied her apron around her slender waist. “I told Victor what your pastor said about marriage.”
April still referred to Reece Patterson as Sadie’s pastor, although she’d attended Hillcrest Church for six months. Sadie had only been going there a few months longer. Her church activities had ceased two and a half years ago when her family died. Attendance now wavered between enthusiastic and perfunctory, a result of guilt and a gnawing vacuum where her soul used to be.
“Good for you. Considering marriage is a serious commitment.” Stop, Sadie. Don’t get involved in a discussion about marriage and family. She closed her locker before adjusting her fake glasses. “Are you ready to go?”
With a nod, April held the door for Sadie, and they left the room together.
“Have you met the new guy? Ooh, muy caliente. If I didn’t have my Victor, I’d set my sights on him.”
“No, I haven’t seen this new, hot guy.” After all that had happened, meeting men, good-looking or otherwise, was not high on Sadie’s priority list. Since the car accident that killed Aaron and Hannah, she had little interest in a romantic life. Her routine consisted of work, developing a few friendships, and most important, staying safe.
A jab in the ribs brought her back to the wide store aisles. “There he is, Debra. Over there.” April pointed to a group of men examining a stack of cedar fence posts.
To appease her, Sadie asked, “Which one? I recognize Oscar and Greg.”
“He’s the one in the blue shirt.”
The men concluded their discussion and the new guy turned, heading down the aisle.
Eyes on the approaching figure, Sadie had to agree with April. Muy caliente indeed. About average height, thick black hair—a stray curl flopped on his forehead—and an athletic body. He beamed a hundred watt smile at April. “Hi.” His deep voice complemented his physical appearance.
Before April could respond, her name echoed through the store. Paged by the appliance department, she shoved Debra toward the new guy. “Got to go. Meet my friend.”
Sadie frowned at April’s retreating figure.
The man turned to Sadie. A dimple in one cheek enhanced his rugged face. “Hi, April’s friend. I’m Sam.” He extended his hand.
His name ricocheted through her heart. Automatically, she shook hands and mumbled, “I’m Debra.”
Eyes as blue as a jay bird raked her face. “Nice to meet you. Which department do you work in?”
“Garden. And I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat. I have a load of star jasmine waiting for me.” She sent him a plastic smile she was sure never touched her eyes and hurried away.
Sam. His name was Sam. A lump of sadness slid down her throat. Because of her initials, her husband’s nickname for her had been Sam––Sadie Aretta Malone.
Although the arrival of plants and other spring merchandise kept Sadie busy, she couldn’t shake the recurring waves of melancholy that shadowed her. No matter how much she tried to avoid the new guy, he appeared at every turn, reminding her of happier days. Why did his name have to be Sam? He attempted to strike up conversations, but the early spring rush provided believable excuses for Debra to escape.
Her ploy worked until lunchtime. She opened the break room door and scanned the crowded area. Oscar munched on popcorn, the charred, nutty aroma announcing he’d burnt it again, and someone had heated a fishy meal in the microwave. Sadie wrinkled her nose.
Where could she sit?
Sam sat alone at a small table wedged beside the counter. A pile of sandwiches spilled out of his lunch box. One foot rested on the single unoccupied chair. With eyebrows raised, he glanced her way. “Hey, Debra. Want to join me?” He set his foot on the floor.
She had no choice. “Sure.” With great reluctance, she collected her sack from the refrigerator and sat in the chair he scooted out for her. “Thanks.”
Salad bowl open, she mixed in Italian dressing. Stay away from his eyes. But she couldn’t help it. Their blueness intrigued her. Were they real or did he wear colored contacts?
Focusing on her bowl, she chomped on lettuce, the tangy dressing enlivening her taste buds.
Sam picked up another sandwich and set his elbows on the table. “So, Miss Debra, how long have you worked here?” His dimple appeared again.
Always cautious when questioned, she kept the answer vague and brief. “A year or so.”
“And where are you from? I don’t hear a Texas twang.”
Getting too personal, mister. She took a swig from her water bottle. “I moved around a lot as a kid. Don’t claim any one state as home.”
“I can appreciate that. My brother and I were raised in foster care, but I was born in Dayton, Ohio.”
Thankful her eyes were focused on the last of the salad, Sadie kept her head down. First, his name brought back memories. Now, two more troubling coincidences. She’d been raised by foster families and moved more times than she could remember. And she was born in Dayton.
She gulped hard to keep from choking on little bits of fear infused in her lunch. “You don’t say.” Salad bowl snapped closed, she gathered her things together. “Got a few phone calls to make before I return to the garden. Good-bye.”
Anyone observing her exit would have thought Freddy Krueger chased her as she ran from the break room. Not knowing what else to do, she punched Miles Griffin’s speed dial number on her cell phone.
Griff listened to her concerns about the new guy. “Good instincts, Debra. Glad you called. Find out his last name and any other personal information you can scrounge. I’ll do a bit of checking.” Talk about a Texas twang. Griff’s words drawled out as if he had a limited number and had to make them last all day.
Sadie slowed as she neared the garden center. Sam did not have on a nametag. “I’ll see what I can discover.”
“In the meantime, young lady, stay cool and keep your eyes open.”
“Always do. Thanks, Griff.” She slipped her phone into her apron pocket.
Oh, joy. Now she’d have to talk to the new guy again or find another way of snooping for information. And she’d have to call him Sam—he couldn’t be the new guy forever.
Opportunity came when Sadie clocked out at ten after six and had the break room to herself. Rhodes still used time cards, which were listed alphabetically in the metal holder. After returning hers to its slot, she checked for Sam’s. It took a while but she located a card for Sam Boudine.
She tugged her purse and lunch sack from her locker and jotted down Sam’s name. As she turned to leave the room, he entered.
“Hey, Debbie. Your shift over?”
The name grated like screeching metal. If she couldn’t use her real name, then at least she’d have one she could tolerate. “It’s Debra.” With her purse in hand, she couldn’t deny her intentions. “Yeah, I’m leaving.”
“Sorry, Debra. I’m on my way out too. Hold up, and I’ll walk with you.”
Every fiber in her being objected, but she waited for him to clock out.
On the way to the exit, she fudged on the truth. “April told me your last name. There can’t be too many Boudines in Ohio.”
“My grandparents were from Louisiana.”
While considering other questions she could ask to garner personal information, he continued the conversation and provided a cache.
“I really like Austin. Never lived in Texas, before. Got pink-slipped up north and thought I’d give the south a try.”
“So you don’t have any family down here?” Now outside, she elongated her stride to keep up with his long legs.
“Nah. It’s just little ol’ me.” His shoulders drooped, which caught her attention. “Had a wife and little girl.”
Antennae now on full alert, Sadie rummaged in her purse for her keys. “What happened?” She expected to hear about a divorce, but his next words stunned her.
“They were killed in a car wreck.”
Just like her family. Goosebumps pinpricked her arms. To hide her alarm, she pressed the car remote.
“Allow me.” Sam opened her door.
“That’s really sad.” Sliding into the car, she threw her purse onto the passenger seat.
“Two years ago.” Sam lingered by her door. “Want to see a picture?”
With his wallet already out, she had little choice. An attractive brunette holding a dark-haired toddler stared back at her.
Words clogged her throat. She glanced up at him and her heart twisted at his pained expression. Guilt for her earlier rudeness and for talking to him only to collect information needled her conscience. But her heart did more than flutter at his next words. It jerked to a stop.
“I still miss ’em. My baby, Paige, and my wife, Sadie.”

Buy Links:

Friday, 17 October 2014

New Release - Vegas Vacation




Former protective services officer, Sgt. Martin Ames, is five weeks short of medical retirement from the Vegas PD when he lands one last case: spoiled English heiress, Lady Tamlyn Bradshaw, whose bodyguard is hospitalized with suspected food poisoning.
Tamlyn  is on holiday, her first without her father and his ever present bodyguards. She wants to have fun, not spend the time stuck in a hotel room with a disabled cop, even if he is tall, dark and disturbingly handsome.
When food poisoning becomes murder, passions and tempers flare as Martin attempts to keep Tamlyn  safe from the assailant who gains everything on her death.


extract

“Martin, you’re the only person in the department with the security clearances and the experience to do this.”
“I haven’t worked protective services for over three years and for good reason. I’m five weeks from early retirement, and I don’t want to spend them running around after a spoiled heiress.”
“Did I ask what you wanted? This woman’s father is royalty and I just got off the phone with him—”
Tamlyn cringed in her seat, her cheeks burning. This was a bad idea. She’d go back to the hotel and trust God to protect her. No one knew who she was; she was just one more tourist in a city of thousands.
The angry voice continued its tirade in the office. “Royalty? In that case, I’m sure she can afford a replacement bodyguard. Even better…ask the British Embassy to provide one. My days of babysitting people are over.”
“Unless you want to be fired five weeks before your retirement date, your assignment for the next three weeks is to be Lady Bradshaw’s bodyguard. There’s the door. She’s by your desk waiting for you.”
The door flung open, and Tamlyn  glanced down. She focused her gaze on her fingernails. Maybe she could just pretend she hadn’t  heard.
Heavy steps crossed the room as muted conversations started up again. They stopped by the desk. “Lady Bradshaw, I presume?”
She looked up into the most intense, glittering pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. His hair was pulled back in a long black ponytail, and he leaned on a cane. They had to be kidding. A disabled cop? His navy blue shirt and tie at least gave an appearance of professionalism. Although the gun holster on his shoulder made her shiver.
She stood, grateful he couldn’t  read her mind, because she was already regretting that first thought about his gorgeous eyes. She held out a hand. “I am. You must be Sgt. Ames.”

link:

And because I know you want to know, here's my cast list -

 

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Thursday, 9 October 2014

Shadow Remnant by Michael Duncan

 Today on my blog I’d like to welcome back Pastor Michael Duncan. He wrote the Book of Aleth series you can find on Pelican BooksBut today I want to tell you about his new book, Shadow Remnant.
 

Blurb:
When truth is lost, liberty dies.

For a hundred years the United States has been gripped by martial law, with freedom and faith a forgotten memory. In the summer of 2132, Peter Sheridan learns this the hard way when he finds himself on the wrong side of the government–but the right side of freedom.

All he wants to do is escape the notorious education center and find his parents. But when he is shot and left for dead, he is rescued by a mysterious recluse and finds himself drawn into a world of chaos and intrigue.

Racing against time and the government to try and complete his father’s mission—Peter must reignite the call for freedom. To do so, he turns to the last hope for America, the mysterious group known as the Shadow Remnant.


Review:
An amazing read that keeps you gripped to the pages. I laughed and cried and read long into the night on two occasions. Mr. Duncan has crafted an incredible story with plot twists a plenty, as Peter discovers the truth and then tries to keep the truth from being buried again.

Interview:
Welcome to the blog, Michael.

M: Thank you! It is great to be here.

Are you a plotter or a pantser when you write?

M: Actually… a little bit of both. I begin a new story with an overarching theme that I want to explore, then put a setting together and stick characters in it. After that, it’s all “by the seat of your pants” writing – exploring along with the characters. I often feel as if I’m simply watching the story unfold page by page, and just writing it as I see it.

As a pastor do you find it hard not to preach when you write fiction, or is writing fiction a welcome respite from sermons? ;-)

M: Not really. I don’t find it hard to preach when I’m writing fiction – because I’ve been doing both for so many years. I’ve been preaching for over 25 years, and it is what God has gifted me to do. But I am also called by God to write – and my love is to write fiction. It does become a welcome respite, not from sermon writing (I love to do that), but from grappling with all of the other challenges of ministry.

Can you tell us briefly how you became a Christian? And a pastor?

M: I’ll try, but I’ve not ever been accused of being brief. As to becoming a Christian, it happened while I was serving in the United States Air Force. I was stationed in California, and my roommate was a Christian. Now, before this, I had heard of Jesus from a very close and dear friend who had prayed for me for many years (we knew each other in High School). So, this roommate of mine continually pressed me to come with him to a weekly Bible study that he attended. After several months of this, I finally relented and went with him. It was at the Bible study that I learned about the tragic state I was in without Christ, and, after several weeks of participating in the Bible study, I finally yielded my life to Christ and received His mercy and Forgiveness. I hope this was brief enough.

Now, for becoming a pastor, that is also a long story. It begins with the first Scripture I ever memorized, Colossians 1:28-29, “We proclaim Him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. To this end I labor, struggling with all His energy, which so powerfully works in me.” Who would have thought that such a statement would become the life-verse of all that God called me to become! So, while in the military, I began working as a volunteer with the base chapel. My chaplain saw in me something that I didn’t and he asked me to fill in for him—to preach at a rescue mission in a nearby town. Reluctantly, I agreed and went to the down-and-out of society and brought them the word of God. Three men came to believe on Jesus that night and my chaplain was there (he snuck in to listen). He came up to me and told me that he believed I was called and gifted to preach God’s word and that I needed to pursue the work of ministry. So, after several other confirmations from many Godly men, I embraced God’s call and started my long, arduous journey into the world of being a pastor. There is much more to the story – but I’m trying to be brief again.

Where did the inspiration for Shadow Remnant come from?

M: It came from the 2008 election cycle here in the United States. I hold very deeply to the ideals of truth and liberty and I began to witness both falling away with the state of our nation. So I began to write a story, depicting what America might become if we continue down a road away from truth and liberty. And, what would need to be done to reignite the fires of freedom in the heart of the American people. So, with that, I created Peter Sheridan, a young man who discovers the truth for himself and has his life thrust into a mission to bring it to light.

I love the way each chapter has a verse that summarises the events of that chapter perfectly. Which came first? The chapter or the verse? (that sounds very Biblical somehow lol)

M: The chapter did. I added those verses to the opening of the chapters to help the reader understand the Biblical underpinnings of all that I was writing.

You left the book on kind of a cliff hanger. Is there going to be a sequel?

M: Yes… the “cliffhanger” was intentional – because I wanted the final words of the first book to be the first words of the Constitution of our United States. There will be a sequel.

How long am I going to have to wait?

M: Years and years! Just kidding. I’m working on the sequel even now. I hope to have it done by next year.

What are you currently writing?

M: I am working on three novels right now and two non-fiction books. The novels are first, a sequel to my “Book of Aleth” series, second, a medieval mystery and the third one, of course, is the sequel to Shadow Remnant. The non-fiction books deal with the current issues facing the church.

Where can people find you on line?

M: Please come and visit me! You can find me, my books, sermons and other things at my website – http://www.michael-duncan.net.

Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to talk to us J

You can pick up a copy of the book here:

Buy links:



And while you’re there how about picking up A Life Worth Living for only a few pence




Many wonder about the significance of their life - is it really worth living. God has given us life, and He wants us to live with great purpose and vitality.

In this little book, you will discover the value of life and what might be hindering it. If you listen, you will hear God calling you to a life worth living.

Wednesday, 1 October 2014

Coming Soon...





Watch the series video





Former protective services officer, Sgt. Martin Ames, is five weeks short of medical retirement from the Vegas PD when he lands one last case: spoiled English heiress, Lady Tamlyn Bradshaw, whose bodyguard is hospitalized with suspected food poisoning. 
Tamlyn is on holiday, her first without her father and his ever present bodyguards. She wants to have fun, not spend the time stuck in a hotel room with a disabled cop, even if he is tall, dark and disturbingly handsome. 
When food poisoning becomes murder, passions and tempers flare as Martin attempts to keep Tamlyn safe from the assailant who gains everything on her death.


This releases on Oct 17th. Come back then for an excerpt, interview with the hero and heroine and for cast photos. 


Friday, 26 September 2014

Echoes of Edinburgh by JoAnn Durgin

Blurb:

To honor her dying father’s wish, Chicago stockbroker Shelby Harmon promises to hand deliver an envelope addressed to “Robert Nichols, Personal & Confidential.” Her quest to find Robert leads her to a most unlikely place—the Castlehill Gardens outside Scotland’s Edinburgh Castle. Who is this fiercely private man and what is his connection to Harmony Lane, her family’s horse farm in Lexington, Kentucky? Harrison Reed cautions Shelby against dredging up hurtful memories for his close friend, Robert. As they explore the city together, Shelby and Harrison find themselves increasingly drawn to one another. When the contents of the mysterious envelope are revealed, the answer gives her hope for the future of Harmony Lane. Is the time spent in Edinburgh with Harrison destined to be nothing more than a beautiful memory? Did Shelby lose her heart in Edinburgh...or find her way home again?


Review:
Shelby travels from Chicago to Edinburgh to hand deliver a letter from her dead father, little imagining the path it would take her on. Losing her balance lands her in a world she couldn't imagine in her wildest dreams, leading her to the last thing she expected. A lovely page turner of a story, set in a country that I consider a second home, which leads the reader content.

JoAnn Durgin’s Author Bio:

JoAnn is the author of The Lewis Legacy Series and Catching Serenity. Her novellas from Pelican Book Group/White Rose Publishing include Echoes of Edinburgh and three Christmas novellas: Meet Me Under the Mistletoe, Starlight, Star Bright and Sleigh Ride Together with You. A member of the American Christian Fiction Writers and the Louisville Christian Writers, JoAnn lives her husband and three children in her native southern Indiana. She loves to hear from her readers via her website at www.joanndurgin.com or on her author page on Facebook at  www.facebook.com/authorjoanndurgin.

Monday, 22 September 2014

Daed Ringer by VB Tenery

Blurb:
Mercy Lawrence is terrified.

Bermuda airport facial recognition software has identified her as missing runway star, Traci Wallace. Despite Mercy’s protests, Traci’s husband, ex-CIA agent Thomas Wallace, is convinced Mercy is the mother of his ill six-year-old son. With only his son’s welfare in mind, he abducts Mercy and takes her to a private island to care for the boy.

But Mercy soon discovers there are men much more dangerous than a father desperate to save his son. Her doppelganger has made deadly enemies—a relentless team of killers who now want her dead.

When Thomas is lured into a covert mission to rescue a CIA asset and uncover a government mole, Mercy is left isolated and alone—and Thomas finds himself stranded on foreign soil with a compromised mission and a wounded agent. Fighting against a rogue nation’s timetable for launching a nuclear strike, he has to escape Saudi Arabia alive and rescue Mercy and his son before assassins finish the job they started.

Buy Links:

http://www.amazon.com/Dead-RingerV-BTeneryebook/dp/B00K7S0PVY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1399747768&sr=81&keywords=dead+ringer+vb+tenery

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dead-Ringer-V-B-Tenery-ebook/dp/B00K7S0PVY/ref=sr_1_1_bnp_1_kin?ie=UTF8&qid=1399747934&sr=8-1&keywords=dead+ringer+by+vb+tenery



Extract:
CHAPTER ONE

Hamilton, Bermuda
Friday, May 5

Mercy Lawrence wouldn’t have noticed the large man standing by the silver Mercedes, except for the way he was dressed. Unlike the tourists on the sidewalk, he wore a light gray business suit and tie. Sunglasses hid the upper portion of his face, and the grim set of his mouth detracted from his otherwise handsome appearance. He stood beside the car’s open back door, arms crossed as if waiting for someone.
Not wanting to stare, she tore her gaze away. In jeans, T-shirt, and sandals, she blended easily into the vacationers along the boulevard. She’d spent the last five months in this wonderful country, recuperating from a head injury. Most of her memory remained intact after the accident, but dark recesses still refused to reveal their mystery.
But tomorrow, like a good soldier, she would return to Houston and report to her new job at Sabine Oil, the fulfillment of a goal she’d worked towards for the past six years.
The city’s main drag ran four lanes wide with a palm-tree-lined median, the sea on one side, shops and hotels on the other. A soft wind filled the air with the scent of sea kelp and brine, mixed with a light floral fragrance from the purple bougainvilleas hanging on the walls along the walkway. Seagulls swept low over the water, looking for lunch out past the rolling surf.
She shook her hair loose from the confines of its ponytail clip and turned her face to the balmy sunshine—mainlining vitamin D. Her path took her within four feet of the parked car.
The man moved onto the sidewalk and grabbed her arm. “Having fun, are we?” He spoke with a slight Scottish burr, the strange question more an accusation than a greeting.
She tried to jerk her arm away. “Let go of my arm.”
His grip tightened. “I’ll just bet you’ve been living it up.” His voice was harsh, his jaw tight.
No one intervened. Casual observers would think she knew him.
One hand locked on her arm, he shoved her into the backseat, slid in beside her, and slammed the door. His movements were so quick, so smooth, she had no time to struggle, no time to scream or put up a fight.
She swallowed the lump in her throat choking off oxygen. Women disappeared all too often on foreign soil, never seen or heard from again. “Who are you? What do you think you’re doing? Let me out. Now!”
He ignored her protests and leaned forward in the seat. “Airport, Fergus.”
Blood pounded a persistent rhythm in her ears. He couldn’t be police. They had to tell you the charges before making an arrest. Besides, she’d done nothing wrong.
Her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to run, but it was too late for that. Pivoting towards him, she drew back her arm and aimed the heel of her hand for an upward thrust under his nose. The move from a seated position lacked the needed momentum. He blocked the blow, slamming her back against the seat with a forearm of steel across her chest. “You dropped off the map six months ago. To do what, find yourself?”
 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She squeezed her eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. “This is kidnapping. My name is Mercy Lawrence and people are expecting me back at my bungalow.” She struggled against the vise-like grip, slapping at his hand.
“Stop it, and cut the crap, Traci, or I’ll slap you back. Taking a wife, a mother, home to the son she abandoned is not kidnapping. Besides, you’re not a kid.”


 BIO:

About the Author:
Author V. B. Tenery lives with her family in East Texas. Her passion is writing books with shinning characters and settings and plots so exciting readers come away feeling delighted with the experience. Not content to stay in one genre, her novels range from contemporary suspense and supernatural suspense, to an upcoming historical suspense set in WWII England.

Feel free to contact me at any of the following:
Website: www.vbtenery.com
Blog: www.agatharemembered.blogspot.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com
FB Author Page: www.facebook.com/vbtenery
eMail Address:  vbhtenery@aol.com

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Deadly Communications by Lillian Duncan


Deadly Communications Blurb:
Improving communication skills is never easy. In this case, it could be murder!
Maven Morris is a speech-language pathologist on medical leave–or as she likes to put it: out to pasture.
When she’s offered a lucrative position by one of the community’s most powerful men to help his traumatic-brain-injured daughter improve her communication skills, Maven discovers deadly secrets behind the iron gates of the mansion.

Now, she must find the courage to seek justice no matter who gets hurt–even if it’s her.


My Review:
This is a lovely, gripping story about what we Brits call a speech therapist. Maven, a beautiful but unusual name, which is exactly right for our heroine. I've never read a book with this profession as the lead character, but it's brilliant. It has characters that live through the pages and a mystery that drags the reader in and keeps them hooked. A real page turner.