Secrets, obsession and vengeance converge in this riveting thriller about an online dating match turned deadly cat-and-mouse game, from the New York Times bestselling author of Confessions on the 7:45.
Think twice before you swipe.
She met him through a dating app. An intriguing picture on a screen, a date at a downtown bar. What she thought might be just a quick hookup quickly became much more. She fell for him — hard. It happens sometimes, a powerful connection with a perfect stranger takes you by surprise. Could it be love?
But then, just as things were getting real, he stood her up. Then he disappeared — profiles deleted, phone disconnected. She was ghosted.
Maybe it was her fault. She shared too much, too fast. But isn’t that always what women think — that they’re the ones to blame? Soon she learns there were others. Girls who thought they were in love. Girls who later went missing. She had been looking for a connection, but now she’s looking for answers. Chasing a digital trail into his dark past — and hers — she finds herself on a dangerous hunt. And she’s not sure whether she’s the predator — or the prey.
My thoughts: this was really interesting and a compelling read. Balancing Wren’s past and present, while also giving tiny glimpses of the women she’s searching for – hoping she wasn’t in love with a serial killer. The things she learnt growing up, they might just save her life.
Wren is an interesting figure too, a woman with a past she’d love to forget, a past that’s snapping at her heels, despite how much she desperately wants to believe she’s moved on. Working as an anonymous agony aunt in print and podcast, she’s happiest helping other people. But then she meets Adam, he seems like her perfect guy, if a little mysterious.
But he disappears, leaving more questions behind him. And that’s where the book really gets good, as she teams up with a PI to find Adam and the women who’ve disappeared in his wake.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
Emily Copeland is a young teacher at an inner city school. And she’s good at it. One Christmas her mother shares a long held secret of a teenage affair with a French fisherman. Months later her mother is killed in a hit and run and Emily’s life is dislodged from its axis.
With the school summer holidays approaching, Emily decides on a cathartic journey to revisit the French seaside village where, all those years ago, her mother enjoyed her summer fling. Clutching a series of old holiday snaps, she sets off with the ambition of closure. However, the Camargue – where the mighty Rhône meets the Mediterranean – holds deep secrets. It’s a lawless place of cowboys and gipsies, of mudflats, lakes and meandering tributaries … and of black bulls and white horses.
Emily’s journey soon ends up being more than just a rehearsal of her mum’s past. As she traces her footsteps, the romantic memories she unearths of a previous summer paint an altogether more sinister picture of the present. And Emily’s trip turns out to be one of enlightenment and of deceit; and of abuse and of greed. Ultimately it’s a story that ends in death … and in love.
Chapter One Four months previously Emily had her back to the class, facing the whiteboard. She had to stand on tiptoes to reach the top. Some bright spark from maintenance had fitted the new interactive boards last summer and she was sure they had purposely put hers a few inches higher than the original. She wasn’t short. Not short, short. At 155cm she was hardly legs up to your bottom tall, but she always considered herself to be an endearing height. Whatever. It made reaching the top shelf in her kitchen cupboards a struggle without a stool. And – on her feet all day with her spine contracting by the hour – after lunch the top of the whiteboard was an effort. She bit her bottom lip as she wrote out, ‘Pythagoras’s Theorem’, in capitals. In blue. She underlined it. And then turned quickly on her heel. You didn’t want to have your back to Year 9D for any longer than was necessary. ‘OK, team, let’s recap …’ She stopped mid-sentence. Something was up. There usually was. There were sixteen pupils in this, the fourth maths set of five in Year 9. When the classes had been divvied out at the beginning of term INSET training, her class had been described by her head of maths as ‘lively’. That was like calling a great white shark, ‘a bit bitey’. But they were her Year 9 set. And, bless them, they weren’t nearly as bad as her predecessor had made out. Alison, who was now off on maternity leave, had taken most of Emily’s current class last year – and she hadn’t made it to Christmas. After weeks of staffroom tears, there had been an incident with a textbook that had mysteriously shredded itself and ended up out the window, its pages fluttering across the games field. Alison had, apparently, confronted a boy who was big for his age and had a tongue on him. The word ‘bitch’ couldn’t be ignored, even if it had been under the lad’s breath. As a result Alison had stormed out of the room leaving the class to fend for itself until the next door teacher recognised the noise of near-anarchy for what it was. Alison didn’t teach her Year 8 set again. So far though, Emily was keeping a lid on them. And they were learning something. Albeit in fits and starts. With some classes you often just had to let kids’ frustrations play out. Especially in the last period on a Thursday, having come straight from PE where stale sweat was a stronger essence than even the spray-on, carcinogenic board cleaner. Now looked like it was going to be one of those times. Emily’s nose twitched. It was an instinctive reaction. She looked up and down the classroom. Three rows of tables, each row broken into four so that she could navigate the room quickly and not get stuck top left when all hell was breaking out at the bottom right. Like most teachers she designed her own seating plans. There were unwritten rules, borne of previous teachers’ experiences of the same pupils. Who should not sit next to whom. Who had learning difficulties. Which children were classified as ‘Pupil Premium’ and, therefore, came from particularly disadvantaged backgrounds. They needed special care and attention both in terms of the questions you asked them and the tone you used. For example, it was no use asking Shaun to complete work using the internet as he lived with his gran, who didn’t have Wi-Fi … and, in any case, Shaun didn’t have a computer. Harriet, Mobina, Massimo and Darren couldn’t afford dinner money, let alone a calculator. And there was Lauren. She respected no one. As far as Emily knew, Lauren lived a half-itinerant life, moving from her aunty to a friend’s house, and back again. Her father was locked up for armed something or other, and her mother was either an alcoholic, or drugged up, or both, most of the time. So Lauren had no adults to respect. So she respected no adults. Emily included. But Emily was against wholesale, teacher-led segregation when it came to the seating plan. Other than her sixth form, where she allowed her students to sit anywhere they wished, she started the year with a best guess – putting kids in places she thought would suit them. And then she let the arrangement change as the year developed and friendships and conflicts emerged. With just sixteen in this class and thirty-five chairs – the sets got smaller the further down the ability ladder you slid – she had been able to group her Year 9 class into enclaves of reasonable behaviour, which in turn sometimes encouraged half decent work. It was never easy. Bless them, though. Apart from Madi, who should be moving up to Evan Jones’s set some time soon, maths was none of her class’s favourite. Every topic was a struggle. Every ‘x’ a smudge on the board. Every ‘y’ a question rather than a letter representing a variable. No wonder they misbehaved. ‘I’ve lost all my pencils, miss.’ It was Ben. An almost adorable short lad who was the class clown. On his left was Will, son of a bricklayer, who was brighter than he thought he was. On Ben’s right, Karim, a Sudanese lad with an incongruously massive afro, who was definitely brighter than he thought he was. ‘Shu’ up, Ben.’ Lauren’s surly retort cut through rising tension from the other end of the classroom. Triangulation was going to be difficult now. Ben was clearly making a play, which Emily would be happy to see through if it didn’t go on for too long. Lauren, who took no prisoners and scared the wits out of everyone in the class including the boys, was bored and might well kick off at any moment which would leave someone in tears. And Pythagoras was still asking for all of their attentions. Emily raised a gentle hand in Lauren’s direction. ‘Try not to use that language, please, Lauren.’ She shot the girl a half-smile and then almost in the same sentence, ‘Where are your pens, Ben? Tell me.’ Ben, Will and Karim were all smiles. Ben, who could be cute, cheeky and bloody devious all in the same breath, snorted, his eyes damp with suppressed laughter. Where’s this going? She had no idea. So she went on the offensive. ‘Can you borrow one? Say from Karim … or Will?’ Emily, armed with a straightened index finger, pointed at both boys, one after the other. More sniggering. ‘... grow up, morons.’ The first part of Lauren’s sentence was a mumble, but it might have included the words ‘fucking’ and ‘well’. Emily knew she was close to losing control and might have to resort to a sanction; maybe even ask someone to leave the room. Early intervention was key. But, for her, sanction was always a last resort and she saw it as a failure. On top of that it disrupted the class and always shattered any ambience she had managed to create. She waited for an answer. Ben, who even sitting down was nipple-height to the much taller Karim, turned to his friend and said, ‘Can I borrow a pen?’ Karim stared straight ahead impassively. Lauren tutted. Loudly. ‘Say please,’ Karim said. Will was also struggling to contain himself. Emily still had no idea where this was going, but so far it was pretty harmless … and might be very funny. They managed that sometimes. ‘Please,’ Ben replied, his shoulders lifting and falling below his soundless giggles. Karim, still looking straight ahead and with a deadpan face, lifted a hand and pointed to his afro. Emily could see it then. Karim’s hair was full of pens and pencils. She could see the red rubber of a pencil sneaking a peep from the black, curly mass of Karim’s 80s-style hairdo. Alongside it was the silver top of a biro. You could hide the stationery store in there. ‘Thanks,’ Ben said, gulping down a snort. He then stood and carefully and thoroughly removed six pens and two pencils from Karim’s hair. And still none of the three broke into laughter. But the rest of the class, who might well have seen the trick before, couldn’t stop themselves. Apart from Lauren. ‘My mum’s taxes pay your wages, miss. D’you wanna start earning them?’ ‘Sure, Lauren. Sure,’ Emily replied, smiling and shaking her head at the same time. As the giggles lost their momentum and Ben finished systematically collecting the contents of his pencil case from Karim’s afro, Emily put up both hands to try to bring some gravitas to the situation … … just as the classroom door opened. And the headmistress came in. ‘Miss Copeland. May I borrow you for a moment?’ The headmistress never visited Emily’s classroom. Behind her was one of the deputy heads. This was odd … and ominous. Emily’s brain spun … and she noticed the class had gone unnaturally quiet. ‘Sure.’ Emily shook her head for a reason she didn’t understand. ‘You might want to bring your things.’ The head nodded at her rucksack which was by her chair. What? Was she being arrested? Was the head here to sack her? Images of failed bankers pushing open large glass doors with their hips, their arms overloaded with boxes full of personal possessions, flashed through her consciousness. ‘Ehh. Yes. Of course.’ The head smiled, more a grimace than a smile. The deputy was already in the room. He was looking up at the board. ‘Pythagoras,’ Emily said, as she loaded her rucksack. ‘Got it,’ was his reply. He was now looking at the class with trepidation. ‘Good luck,’ she whispered, and then she slipped out through the door the head was holding open. The corridor beyond was dark and faintly oppressive. Emily heard the clunk of the door closing, stopped and turned back towards the head, who was a few feet behind her. The head’s face told the story. Whatever news was coming next was bad. The worst. Emily instinctively knew. ‘Who?’ she said. The head stuttered. She started to put her hands up to hold Emily by the shoulders, but the distance between them made the attempted hug impossible. So, she dropped her arms back to her side. ‘Your mum, Emily. I’m so, so sorry.’
I am an ex-British Army colonel with operational service in Bosnia, Sierra Leone and Afghanistan. I was subsequently a secondary school maths teacher for 8 years. And since 2014, my wife and I have been itinerant, driving around Europe in our motorhome, penning the Sam Green thriller series.
In 2020, during lockdown and on advice from a publisher, I wrote of Black Bulls and White Horses, my first and only non-Sam Green novel.
Book 2 in the Sam Green series, Fuelling the Fire, won a Kindle Scout publishing contract. And, the as yet unnamed, book 8 in the series will be published in 2022. Roland Ladley | Goodreads | Amazon
Enter for a chance to win the entire Sam Green collection (7 Books- Digital) International.
My thoughts: what starts as a gentle story about an English teacher retracing her late mother’s footsteps in Southern France becomes something much darker as Emily seeks out her mum’s former lover – Marc Dupont. Dupont is a restaurant owner with a hidden life, a career criminal involved with people smuggling on the Mediterranean. But while he’s a terrible man, his son Luis is not and between him and waiter Gbassy, with Emily’s help, they might just put an end to Marc’s crimes.
I liked Emily, she was resilient and resourceful, even when faced with some truly awful things, she finds ways to survive. Even when she’s warned off, she knows her mum’s involvement is innocent and is determined to get to the bottom of things, and even solve her mum’s death in a hit and run.
At first the story was a bit slow, but as Emily starts to dig into the goings on in this small French town, the plot picks up pace and pieces start to slot into place. I also really liked Gbassy, a good man caught up in terrible things, a man trying to help his home village and having endured more than most could bear, he continues to try to preserve his innate kindness.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
The inheritance of a lifetime… with a catch. When Sophie’s uncle leaves her a castle in the Italian Riviera in his will, she can’t believe her luck. The catch? She and her estranged sister, Rachel, must live there together for three months in order to inherit it. Having worked in Rome for four years, Sophie’s excited to revisit to Italy, even if it reignites memories of a cheating ex who soon learns of her return and wants to rekindle their spark. Sophie realises that distance does indeed make the heart grow fonder – but for her friend back home, Chris, who she discovers is more to her than just a friend. With the clock ticking, can Sophie and Rachel stick it out and heal old wounds, or are the sisters destined to go their own way at the end of the three months? And does Chris feel the same way about Sophie as she does for him? A beautiful story of romance and sisterhood, perfect for fans of Alex Brown and Lucy Coleman.
I’m a man. And a pretty old man as well. I did languages at university a long time ago and then lived and worked in France and Switzerland before going to Italy for seven years as a teacher of English. My Italian wife and I then came back to the UK with our little daughter (now long- since grown up) where I ran a big English language school for many years. We now live in a sleepy little village in Devonshire. I’ve been writing almost all my life but it was only seven years ago that I finally managed to find a publisher who liked my work enough to offer me my first contract. The fact that I am now writing escapist romance is something I still find hard to explain. My early books were thrillers and historical novels. Maybe it’s because there are so many horrible things happening in the world today that I feel I need to do my best to provide something to cheer my readers up. My books provide escapism to some gorgeous locations, even if travel to them is currently difficult.
My thoughts: I really enjoy T.A. Williams’ books, they’re joyful slices of escapism, full of drama and heartache, set in beautiful locations. And this is no exception. I read this book, set in sunny Italy while it was pouring with rain outside and felt completely transported with Sophie. I don’t have the best relationship with my sister so I empathised with her, having to find a way to spend several months with her estranged one – Rachel.
Throw in a complicated love situation with her best friend Chris (who’s back home in the UK), and it’s a real treat of a book. Plus there’s the lovely woofy Jeeves, which is an excellent bonus. A really enjoyable and relaxing read.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
For legal reasons, The Spy Who Inspired Me does not mention J-mes B-nd. Which is a shame, because it is a comedy based on the idea that I-n Fl-ming’s famously macho spy might have been inspired by a woman… It is April 1944, and chic armchair naval officer Ian Lemming (sic) is accidentally beached in Nazi-occupied Normandy. With no access to a razor or clean underwear, and deprived of his cigarettes, Lemming just wants to go home. But he is stranded with a young, though hugely experienced, female agent called Margaux Lynd, who is on a perilous mission to unmask traitors in a French Resistance network. So, as she bullies him across France, Lemming receives a painful crash course in spy craft, and starts to fantasize about a fictional agent – male of course – who would operate only in the most luxurious conditions, and lord it over totally subservient women. A world-famous spy is born … Stephen Clarke said: ‘In World War Two there really were female undercover agents who were ten times tougher and braver than Ian Fleming. I thought it would be great fun to send him (or rather, someone very like him) on a dangerous mission with one of these women who would show him what real spies got up to.’ Stephen Clarke has combined his knowledge of French history with a fondness for Ian Fleming’s novels (despite their old-school machismo) to create The Spy Who Inspired Me, set in the complex background of real Occupied France.
STEPHEN CLARKE is the bestselling author of the Merde series of comedy novels (A Year in the Merde, Merde Actually, Dial M for Merde et al) which have been translated into more than 20 languages and sold more than a million copies worldwide. Stephen Clarke has also written several serious-yet-humorous books on Anglo-French history, such as 1000 Years of Annoying the French (a UK number-one bestseller in both hardback and paperback), How the French Won Waterloo (or Think They Did), and The French Revolution & What Went Wrong. He lives in Paris. For more information about Stephen Clarke please visit: Website Follow Stephen on Twitter
My thoughts: this was a very funny, highly entertaining book and I loved how smart, resourceful and sarcastic Margaux was, not a woman any man could flirt into bed. She’s utterly ruthless when she has to be and ten times the spy a certain 007 claims to be. She’s definitely not going to talk, and won’t even tell her unwanted companion the real mission she’s on.
Lemming is a bit less useful, a military man with a nice desk job in London, the son of a former MP who has led a very nice life in the inter war years, all cocktails and tail coats, and is not exactly prepared for sneaking around behind enemy lines and avoiding Nazis. He gets completely thrown by Margaux’s brilliance and wishes for a different kind of woman, the fantasy kind who doesn’t laugh at him and efficiently murder people.
I went through a phase when I was about 11 or 12 where I watched all the Bond films from the beginning and got quite fascinated by the world they portrayed, a mostly made up one to be quite fair, of sophisticated men in dinner suits and woman who all appeared to have knee issues that meant they went all wobbly when a man in a tux appeared. I understood it was all a lot of nonsense and completely ridiculous. I knew there were women who worked as spies and resistance in conflicts all over the world. A man in a nice suit stands out, a woman, well she might catch the eye but you’d be less likely to suspect her. Besides James B needs to retire, he’s been doing his thing for so long, it’s time to collect his pension. Time for Margaux’s spiritual granddaughters to handle business instead.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
Once Upon A Crime… Nancy Hunter and her grandmother Jane Hunter run the Dedley Endings Bookshop, selling crime, thriller and mystery books, in a small, quiet Cotswold village where nothing ever happens… That is, until the wealthy and reclusive Roth family open up their mansion for the first time in twenty years, inviting the people of Dedley End to a lavish engagement party. While everyone is thrilled to finally look around the mansion on the hill, the festivities are quickly cut short when beautiful Lucy, recently married to young Harry Roth, is found dead after being pushed over the first-floor balustrade. But who among the guests could have been capable of her murder – and why? Nancy and Jane decide to investigate – after all, not only do they own a crime themed bookshop, they were also both named after famous literary detectives – but soon wonder if they’ve taken on more than they can handle. Especially when it seems the killer has worked out that they’re hot on their heels… Can they catch the murderer before the murderer catches up with them? Or will there be a deadly ending to this story? Join the unlikeliest detective duo for the killer opener of The Dedley End Mysteries series, by a major voice in women’s fiction.
Victoria Walters writes up-lifting and inspiring stories. She’s the author of the bestselling GLENDALE HALL series, which continues with its third book HOPEFUL HEARTS at GLENDALE HALL in September, as well as two other standalone novels – SUMMER at the KINDNESS CAFE, and THE SECOND LOVE of my LIFE. She has been chosen for WHSmith Fresh Talent and shortlisted for two RNA awards. Victoria was also picked as an Amazon Rising Star, and her books have won wide reader acclaim. Victoria is a full-time author. She lives in Surrey with her cat Harry, and loves books, clothes, music, going out for tea and cake, and posting photos on Instagram. Find out more about Victoria by following on Instagram on Twitter or by visiting her blog
My thoughts: this was a really fun crime caper that, despite being totally modern, harks back to the golden age of crime writing with its plot and diligent amateur sleuths. A sort of Agatha Christie for the 12st century!
Nancy, her grandmother Jane, and their friends are great, all very dedicated to getting justice for Lucy, but also buying books and eating cake. Warning: read with snacks, there’s a lot of food being enjoyed here. There’s also a dog and you know books with animals are automatically better by at least 50% so add that to an intelligent, highly enjoyable book and I can’t wait for the next case the staff of Dedley Endings and Co find themselves embroiled in.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
The Chronicles of Iona: Exile tells the story of the Irish monk and Scottish warrior, Saint Columba and Aedan mac Gabran, who would band together to lay the foundation of the nation of Scotland. They were a real-life 6th-century Merlin and King Arthur and their story has never been told.
The book begins in 563 A.D. The Roman Empire is long gone, freeing the region of Scotland from the threat of imperial rule but opening it to chaos from warring tribes vying for control. Columba, a powerful abbot-prince, is exiled from Ireland to the pagan colony of Dal Riata on Scotland’s west coast for an act of violence. There he encounters Aedan, the down-and-out second son of the colony’s former king, slain by the Picts.
Together, this unlikely pair travels the breadth of a divided realm, each in search of his own kind of unity. Their path is fraught with blood feuds, lost love, treachery, dark gods and monsters, but also with miracles and valor. Beset on all sides, their only hope is to become allies—and to forge a daring alliance with the pagan Picts.
How Columba overcame exile and a crisis of faith to found the famous monastery of Iona (one of the greatest centers of learning in Dark Age Europe) and, from it, the Celtic Church in the British Isles; and how Aedan avenged his father’s death and became, against all odds, the progenitor of Scottish kings and the greatest warlord of his age, begins here.
For both, what begins as a personal imperative becomes a series of events that lead to the foundation of Iona and the kingdom of Scotland—events that literally change the world.
Paula de Fougerolles has a doctorate from the Department of Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic, University of Cambridge, and has taught and published in the field. She has lived and traveled extensively throughout Scotland and Ireland, including a prestigious year-long Thomas J. Watson Fellowship in which she criss-crossed Europe in search of the physical remains of the so-called Dark Ages–research which ultimately led to this award-winning historical fiction series. To learn more, visit http://www.pauladefougerolles.com.
My thoughts: this was really interesting because I am a) a massive history nerd, and b) fascinated by the lesser known pockets of history. I’d heard of St Columba and Iona, which is still a holy isle, but I didn’t know much about the history of either.
It’s also interesting, to me at least, to learn about my long distant ancestors, the early Scots and Britons. It’s not a period of time you really learn much about at school – the early medieval ages are pretty much dismissed as “after the Romans left, not much happened….1066” which is obviously untrue and also really lazy.
Anyway, I really enjoyed this book, part historical chronicle, part adventure, replete with woad painted Picts, greedy kings, and Nessie. Columba can come across as a bit useless at times, despite being a warrior monk and pretty intelligent, as a prince, before his calling, he probably led quite an indulged life – he just seems a bit unworldly, but then monks hidden safely away in their monasteries probably were.
Aedan is an interesting chap – second son to a murdered King, a warrior bound by a prophecy he’s not too keen on, in love with a woman he can’t have (she’s married to his brother), sent here and there by his duplicitous cousin. He does have a lovely dog though, his companion and friend through it all. He might look like a big thug but he’s also clever and determined. A sharp contrast to Columba, he’s actually lived quite a rough and tumble life, out in the thick of things.
I’m quite keen to read the rest of the series and find out how these two unlikely individuals get on in their missions – to bring Christ to the heathen Scots, settle Iona and not die, and get revenge for his father’s death, outlive the prophecy and not die.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
I look at my daughter. My darling girl. I remember her tiny hand in mine, her first smile. I recall her tears when she’d tumble over, healed instantly with a band-aid and a little kiss. I have to keep her safe. Even if it means someone else gets hurt…
In the pretty, privileged college town of Milford, New Hampshire, everyone is friendly, everything is safe. And on this cold autumn day, as red and yellow leaves begin to fall from the trees, and everyone wraps up for the first time, it would be easy to believe nothing bad could ever happen here.
Until a screech of tires is heard, a thud, a child’s scream. The crash that sees Jenna’s six-year-old daughter Amy Rose being hit by a car driven by seventeen-year-old Maddie.
Maddie’s mother, Ellen—a college professor with a warm, approachable reputation—insists it must have been an accident. Her daughter is always safe on the road—and she’s vulnerable herself.
But as Amy Rose lies unconscious in hospital, the town begins to take sides. With Ellen, who just wants to defend her daughter. Or with Jenna, a single mother with a past, whose child hovers between life and death…
The truth is that both mothers have secrets they’re trying to keep. And, with Amy Rose’s life hanging in the balance, one of them will stop at nothing to protect the person she loves—her daughter.
An incredible, powerfully emotional and heartbreaking read, with a dilemma that will make everyone wonder what they would do, in either mother’s shoes. Perfect for fans of Jodi Picoult, Jojo Moyes and Diane Chamberlain.
Kate Hewitt is the author of many romance and women’s fiction novels. A former New Yorker and now an American ex-pat, she lives in a small town on the Welsh border with her husband, five children, and their overly affectionate Golden Retriever. Whatever the genre, she enjoys telling stories that tackle real issues and touch people’s lives. WebsiteFacebookTwitter
My thoughts: this starts with a shocking event and they keep on coming. It felt like I was reading a Jodi Picoult novel, with all the issues and drama, which I quite enjoyed. I liked the way the two mothers slowly come to terms with each other as they both deal with the emotional fallout of the accident and the events that followed.
Bits of the book are quite sad but the ending ultimately redemptive and the changes the characters made to their lives positive. You feel hopeful that this is the start of something good for all of them. I think William deserves a dog, he doesn’t get much attention and copes with being bullied and forgotten about rather well.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
When well-to-do Hester learns of her sister Mercy’s death at a Nottinghamshire workhouse, she travels to Southwell to find out how her sister ended up at such a place.
Haunted by her sister’s ghost, Hester sets out to uncover the truth, when the official story reported by the workhouse master proves to be untrue. Mercy was pregnant – both her and the baby are said to be dead of cholera, but the workhouse hasn’t had an outbreak for years.
Hester discovers a strange trend in the workhouse of children going missing. One woman tells her about the Pale Lady, a ghostly figure that steals babies in the night. Is this lady a myth or is something more sinister afoot at the Southwell poorhouse?
As Hester investigates, she uncovers a conspiracy, one that someone is determined to keep a secret, no matter the cost…
My thoughts: a creepy Gothic mystery, complete with ghostly visitors and terrible open graves full of dead women and babies.
This was really good, I liked Hester as a sort of Quaker detective. She starts out investigating her sister’s death but ends up drawn into this much larger, nastier scheme. Her associates in this investigation are a reluctant landlord and his cousin, Matthew and Joan, who help her because they know something isn’t right at the workhouse too.
A clever, twisted plot, full of creepy moments and people who aren’t at all who they seem.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
Grandad is up to something. When Bella wakes up to find him gone, she heads to the surface to look for him – but the world looks different. Can Bella conquer her fear of the unknown to find out what is going on? And where is Grandad? For bunny lovers everywhere.
Writing is a relatively new part of my life. When I go to schools and am introduced as an author it is still a bit of a surprise to me! It was the birth of my daughter (in 2016) that changed everything. I had spent many years building up my career in accountancy, accumulating business qualifications and generally working hard in that one field. Spending time with my little girl and reading hundreds of different children’s stories really inspired me. My first book, Nana Duck, was published in 2017. It did well and I found that I enjoyed visiting schools and nurseries. There is nothing like reading your story and getting great reactions from a class full of eager little children. Now, I’m having ideas all of the time. I’m so looking forward to bringing more stories into the world, to seeing my characters come to life through the talented illustrators that I work with, and inspiring more children in my local area and beyond.
Giveaway to Win 2 x Signed Copies of The Whisker Twitchers (Open to UK Only)
My thoughts: this book is adorable. I don’t have children but I do have a lovely goddaughter, who will love this book. The beautiful illustrations of bunnies in the snow, the lovely story about Grandad and Bella. My Grandad is pretty much my favourite person ever – he calls me his best friend and he’s my hero. So I loved the relationship here between Bella and her Grandad as she sets off into the snow to find him. Honestly this book is ridiculously cute.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
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Welcome to the blog tour for romantic historical fiction novel, The Colour of Rain: A Kansas Courtship in Letters by author John W. Feist. Read on for details and a chance to win a $25 Amazon e-Gift Card!
The Color of Rain
Publication Date: September 1st, 2021
Genre: Historical Fiction/ Romance/ Based on True Events
Publisher: Winter Wheat Press
Separated by a great distance in the 1890s, can a widower and a schoolteacher overcome the obstacles that stand in the way of their love and commitment? John Feist unfolds a true-love story, old-fashioned letter style, in his historical romance novel, The Color of Rain.
Handsome, well-respected local banker, now eligible bachelor, Frank Wilson is nothing less than a hot-ticket item with “the path to [his] home? a pilgrimage for unmarried women bearing casseroles.” He’s not interested in remarriage right away-except for Irene, a schoolteacher living two train connections away. A long-distance courtship commences. The lovers keep to weekly letter-writing since they barely have the chance to see each other, especially when trials and tribulations convolute their individual lives.
“Feist’s rich writing style stitches historical details, providing a seamless flow from letters-writing to narrative sections that capture everyday life’s realities amid unsettling times. A true-love historical romance that will have readers riveted to the page. Highly recommended!” -Chanticleer Reviews, five stars
Frank could not converse in the carriage Ethan Alton drove behind the green wagon to the railway station for his train home. Frank had brought Allie to the St. Joseph hospital twelve days before she died. Their family doctor had run out of anything meaningful to do or say about whatever it was that put her in bed a week before that. Between visits to her bedside, Frank had talked with the Altons about sickness and mortality until he, too, had run out of meaningful things to say. Today, the Altons did converse but accepted his silence. He looked from one side of the street to the other. A normal day. But the sun-splashed houses, buildings and people he saw were water-colored contrivances not from his world.
The Altons sat with him in the St. Joseph terminal until his train yanked him toward home, toward two sons, their thirty-seven-year-old father now widowed. Their mother would be buried beside two infant siblings in a graveyard which he was later to design as a more formal cemetery. It was now an unshaded patch of hill in the northeastern Kansas town of Horton, founded just ten years before.
The train crossed the railroad bridge over the Missouri River to the Kansas side and started to speed up its run toward Horton, putting soot into the cloudless sky. The tracks of the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railway would not pass such a waterway again in their transit of the vast Kansas wheat fields and prairie grasses. But, for the next three hours, Frank’s journey would be only fifty miles across wrinkled hillocks of sorghum, oat and corn fields, and over streams lined with willows and cottonwood trees. Soon farmsteads came into view that he knew by name. He had financed those farmsteads. He was banker to these farmers. Today he saw that his fields of collateral needed rain badly.
Seeing familiar crossroads and steeples brought back thoughts of the girl he fell in love with. The smile he fell in love with. Allie lived the love commandment. She held a constitutional belief in the goodness of others. She delighted in her encounters with everyone without reservation or exception. Whoever felt her smile felt improved. Frank did so daily. It was not some occasional, wordless expression to signal mood or assent. It was the emblem of her soul. Her smile was her distinctive song, regular as dawn, constant as breath.
Frank had seen life leave Allie. He had watched the swarm of nurses drift away while he stood stationed at the foot of her bed. A doctor he had never met before declared, unnecessarily, that she had expired. It hurt to hear it. It hurt to smell the still, sultry air. What exactly she died of had not been evident or ever explained. I’ll forever wonder why, he thought. No, please . . . not on the train. He stiffened. His mouth bent downward. He stifled himself. The whistle shrieked.
John W. Feist is the American author of a series of political thrillers, “Night Rain, Tokyo” (2018), “Blind Trust” (2019), and “Doubt and Debt” (2021), plus a literary novel, “Diamond Mornings” (eLectio Publishing, 2016). He is semiretired from a career in business law in California and government relations advocacy in Washington, D.C. His work experiences planted the seeds for his thrillers with their lawyer-protagonist, observations of Japanese culture, and high-stakes international business deals.
Having inherited from his mother, an Equity actor, a love of drama and literature, Feist has appeared on Washington, D.C.-area stages, and provided live audio descriptions of theatre and opera performances for The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. He holds a BA in philosophy from the University of Kansas and a JD from Stanford Law School. Feist lives in Falls Church, Virginia. He has two sons and two grandchildren who live in California.
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