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Shootin' From The Hip

6/16/2018

I’ve done it, occasionally still do it—shoot from the hip that is. I would love to be able to claim I’ve learned how to curb my unchecked impulses, but can’t, because I’m human, so far from perfect it’s laughable. I’m also prone to react like a firework on a short fuse—KABOOM! Further ‘alsos' by way of warning, include: my loathing for being told what to do, or what to think, and scare tactics—that sanctimonious advice (steely threats in a velvet glove) handed out on how writers should manage their on line presence for fear of putting their writing careers at risk.

Well, I exercised extraordinary restraint on the issue of trademarking generic words (cockygate etc), and book stuffing (grrrrr), but this pious lecturing about the dos and don’ts for authors reviewing books? DOUBLE KABOOM!

Why, as an author, is it bad form to leave a less than 4* or 5* book review? What happened to respecting honest opinion? Sure, I’m lucky enough to have been published, but I sure as hell don’t remember abdicating my rights as a reader in exchange for that privilege. I pay for the books I read. And I do read. A lot. Sometimes I’m even moved to share my opinion of a particular book, good, or not so good, with a review. Don’t silence me with half-arsed advisories on etiquette for writers. Don’t silence me with idle threats of career suicide should I choose to disregard the apparent ‘special snowflake’ status of writers.

I’m not advocating being nasty, I don’t hold with the deliberate sabotage of another writer’s work by getting clicky with the 1* and 2*s, because both stink. What I do defend is the right of an author who reads to hold (and share, if so inclined) an honest point of view free from threat, because no matter how small or ridiculous said threat, people, that is akin to bullying.

Review of Lindsay J Pryor's HAVEN

11/3/2017

Following on (fast) from yesterday's shoutout for Lindsay J Pryor's Haven, here's my review to dispel all hesitation:

Rich in intrigue, and twists and turns, Haven is a dark, dark PNR/urban fantasy novel of the first class. The world building is superb, so too, the action scenes—the frustration, despair and violence, scarily bold and graphic on the page.

Ember (heroine) steals the show. Here’s one woman who stands tall and brave in her own quiet way. Sure, she’ll appear to concede (when it suits her), but her intelligence always keeps her steps ahead of those who would do her, or those she cares about, harm. With Ember it's not her physical actions you have to watch, it’s her mind! Nate (hero) is a perfect foil for her, bringing to the fore as he does, her vulnerability. Nate’s not quite an anti-hero, but he’s pretty damn close, and umpteen times you will wonder how these two will ever arrive at the HEA they both deserve—big time.

No comment on the plot because of spoilers, but in a word, DEVIOUS.

So aside from the writing, the plot, the characters, what else raises Haven very much above the average? Well the politics, the social injustice, the raw indignation at how corruption triumphs—fact of life. But amid all that bleak there exists integrity and loyalty and love, keeping hope strong.

Recommended.

And thank you Lindsay for a fabulous read.

Buy Links for Haven: A Lowtown Novel

iBooks http://apple.co/2uOjXkl
Waterstones http://bit.ly/2un4iYI
Amazon UK http://amzn.to/2udfh5t
KOBO http://bit.ly/2tSm9Dj
Amazon US (for eBook) http://amzn.to/2vzifl4
Amazon US (for paperback) http://a.co/cT6hwyt
Amazon http://a.co/9hmDloA
Amazon ANZ http://amzn.to/2uN9CFW
Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/2yoeSxC
Amazon.ca http://a.co/eZ6XoQP
Indigo http://bit.ly/2jXHbRe

NEW PNR RELEASE - HAVEN

11/2/2017

Today, following in the footsteps of her fabulous Blackthorn series, Lindsay J Pryor brings her latest offering HAVEN. Still urban fantasy, still echoing the world of Blackthorn, but a new stand alone title introducing new characters. Haven hit my kindle last night, I can’t wait to crack open the pages—or whatever the equivalent is for an e-reader—in the meantime, here’s all you need to know about this eagerly awaited new release from Ms Prior, which promises to be as delicious as her earlier titles.

HAVEN – A Lowtown Novel

A spin-off from the bestselling Blackthorn series by Lindsay J. Pryor, set in Lowtown, the neighbouring district to Blackthorn. The product of a brutal class system, the dark, gritty world of Lowtown will grip you and never let you go.

Every few days the handsome stranger comes into the café in Lowtown for an hour a time. Most of the time he keeps himself to himself - one drink and he leaves. Sometimes people meet with him but about what remains elusive, the edge of mystery and danger adding to his allure.

Not that Ember is allowed to think about him. She's finally on the cusp of gaining her citizenship and escaping Lowtown for good, so she can't be seen to be involved with a vampire - evidence of one single bite would be the end of her prospects. But when those prospects are rocked by her links to the district's dark underbelly, the stranger she must avoid could be her absolution - and she could be his . . .

Reception so far:

Lindsay J. Pryor is the author of the Amazon bestselling BLACKTHORN series, her dark, complex and gritty urban paranormal romances having achieved numerous Gothic and PNR number ones in both the UK and the US. LOWTOWN, a spin-off from the Blackthorn world, is her upcoming urban fantasy series of standalone books.

Quickly deciding that fantasy was more interesting than reality, Lindsay has been creating stories since she was nine years old. She holds a BSc (Hons) degree in Psychology and Communication and is a qualified Psychology lecturer and English teacher. She taught for eighteen years before becoming a full-time author.

Lindsay was born and grew up in Wales and now lives in South West England with her husband, their rescue bunny and a plethora of wild woodland creatures.

BLACKTHORN is published by Bookouture. Her LOWTOWN novels are being published by Piatkus (Little, Brown Book Group).

To find out more about Lindsay and her books, please visit her:

Website - http://www.lindsayjpryor.com
Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/lindsayjpryor.author
Twitter - http://twitter.com/lindsayjpryor
Pinterest - http://uk.pinterest.com/lindsayjpryor
Instagram - http://www.instagram.com/lindsay.j.pryor

Buy Links for Haven: A Lowtown Novel

iBooks http://apple.co/2uOjXkl
Waterstones http://bit.ly/2un4iYI
Amazon UK http://amzn.to/2udfh5t
KOBO http://bit.ly/2tSm9Dj
Amazon US (for eBook) http://amzn.to/2vzifl4
Amazon US (for paperback) http://a.co/cT6hwyt
Amazon http://a.co/9hmDloA
Amazon ANZ http://amzn.to/2uN9CFW
Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/2yoeSxC
Amazon.ca http://a.co/eZ6XoQP
Indigo http://bit.ly/2jXHbRe

Date for your diary: 31st July

7/25/2017

July 31st, a must-do date for your diary, the must-do being to download Losing Game, the second title in Tracie Delaney's fabulous Winning Ace Series. Yes, the trials and tribulations of Tally and Cash continue--exercise your throat now, cos that's where your heart is going to spend much of its time, but trust me the sensation is worth it.

Haven't yet read book one, Winning Ace? Ye Gads, poor you. You can rectify that here.

What happens in Losing Game? This:

Cash and Tally return in Losing Game, the second novel in The Winning Ace Series
Can love overcome betrayal—or are some things broken beyond repair?

Too hurt to look into who might have sent photos of Cash Gallagher kissing another woman, Tally McKenzie flees to a secret hideout in Brighton and tries to forget her lover.

Stubborn to the last, Cash tracks Tally down and wins her back by confessing his darkest secret. Now he can only hope his demons don’t become headline news and threaten his role as the reigning bad boy of centre court.

Can Cash and Tally's deepening relationship survive all the challenges, or is the hot tennis ace about to discover that the prospect of losing his precious career is the least of his woes?

Book Blast: GREEK MILLIONAIRE, UNRULY WIFE

5/19/2017

HarperImpulse! present:

GREEK MILLIONAIRE, UNRULY WIFE - SUN CHARA
A tempestuous fling…a marriage…a betrayal?
When Michalis Leonadis’ bride jumps ship at the first sign of rough waters, he’s annoyed. When she costs him a marriage and a billion dollar deal, he’s furious; but when he discovers she ditched him whilst harboring a secret…he’s out for revenge.

Ex-model, Julia Armstrong gave up everything for Michalis but when she catches him with another woman, crushed, she jets out of his life. The proud Greek blasts back into her world seeking retribution—in exchange for a divorce, he demands she relinquish the one thing she cannot. Her daughter. Only one other bargaining chip remains…Julia herself.
A sexy, hip ‘n fun contemporary romance

BUY LINKS:
UK http://amzn.to/2odWWVE
US http://amzn.to/2oBJFT1
  http://hyperurl.co/a5rm8c
Amazon worldwide & all e-retailers
*Available also in paperback

About the Author
Sun Chara, a multi-published, JABBIC winner for Manhattan Millionaire's Cinderella, writes sexy, hip 'n fun contemporary romance, high adventure historical romance, and any genre that knocks at her imagination. Globetrotting for lore while keeping tabs on Hollywood leads, she loves the challenge of creating stories for book and screen. Designer frappuccinos with whipping cream/sprinkles on top make everyday a celebration!

Connect with Sun Chara:
https://facebook.com/suncharaauthorpage
https://www.twitter.com/sunchara3

Excerpt: Greek Millionaire, Unruly Wife
Chapter 1
“I’ll take that one.” “The green gown, Monsieur Leonadis?” “No, the model.” The man chuckled. “The model’s not for sale, monsieur.”

“You wanna bet?” Michalis Leonadis loosened his tie, lifted an arrogant eyebrow at the sales manager of the Haute Couture show in Paris, and geared up for battle...not with the manager but...with her. Tracking the model every step with his slitted gaze, he slipped a hand inside the pocket of his jacket and extracted a card, then a pen.

Julia, strutting down the runway and steaming up the ballroom in the Hôtel de Crillon had cost him a marriage, and a billion dollars in a Tokyo deal gone belly-up. As if that hadn’t been enough, his head of security informed him she’d recently given--

Applause broke out, splintering his thoughts, and spiking his fury...his passion. For revenge.

She’d ripped his heart out. Shredded his pride. Cost him.

Her untimely exit had rocked his sphere and his bank account. She nearly bankrupted him. He’d put everything on hold to search for her, and to clean up the legal mess his uncle’s amour had created when she’d charmed... er... scammed the old guy into signing half the Leonadis fortune to her and ultimately her heir. The fortune Michalis had slaved over years to amass.

He set his jaw, batted that distraction from his mind, and turned his laser sharp eyes back to the supermodel, his present dilemma.

When he found out Julia had been living it up in Paris, he’d shut her out, and scrambled to salvage his business and stay afloat— he’d waste no more time on her. He was better off without her.

A spike lodged in his aorta, but he ignored the sting.

He clamped his teeth, his breath rumbling in his chest and escaping through his nose in a hostile sound. How dare she keep that a secret from him? Cold, calculating bi—the expletive stinging his tongue was smothered by shouts of “Brava!” from the audience.

He scrawled a message on his business card, adrenaline pumping him to action.

She’d definitely pay. He curled his lip. His way.

Michalis slapped the card in the man’s hand. “Make sure she gets it.”

The man glanced at the bold insignia of the Leonadis Cruise Line on the card and inclined his head. “Oui, Monsieur Leonadis.”

Michalis tuned him out. He liked things simple. She’d been anything but. 

Wowzer! A rake in my office.

4/3/2017

Last week (see previous post) you met Brittany Carter, wild-child of 2017. She shared her impression of Mitchell Killgower, the rake of 1765. A match made in heaven or a collision of epic proportions? Well, Mitchell addresses that question now. Read between the lines of his admirably restrained responses and you find his character burns hot. Brittany is a loose live wire, snaking and leaping, daring predictable to define her. Yet Mitchell holds fast. He enjoys a challenge. He’s a man who once fascinated, never lets go. He manages. He handles. He defies—when a lesser man would surrender.

A knock, the door opens, I try not to stare. Mitchell Killgower, his very presence magnetic, takes ownership of the armchair opposite, his smile—devastating. I croak a welcome, and my first question, my throat having constricted:

Mr Killgower, were there any instances when you could have strangled Brittany?
Mitchell: Frankly? Every minute of every day she came my way. Where would you like me to start? When she landed in my son’s bed, when she thought we were all dead, when she wouldn’t tell me where she was from, when she ate all the food at the table, when she poured water on my etchings and drank her way through my brandy, when she wouldn’t get up and instruct the servants. When she wouldn’t get up and instruct the servants. Yes I know I just said that, but it happened more than once. Every time she lit up one of these damned cigar things and fugged the place out. Will I go on? Please don’t think these are all the instances. You did say any and these are but a few. As a rule my middle names are patience and waiting. But these things are impossible to hold onto within a ten-mile radius of Brittany. If all the women are like her in the future…well…. God help us men is all I can say.

Well, someone sure had his buttons pushed, I’m surprised Brittany still lives. And no, women are not like her, past, present or future. See, they broke the mould when Brittany was birthed.

Name three things that alarmed you about Brittany?
Mitchell: Only three? A lot alarmed me about Brittany. How long do you have, Mz Black? Her turning up from nowhere for instance, when she’d been gone for weeks, more soused than a barrel load of herrings, singing songs—at least, I think that was what she was doing—being sick in a chamber pot, that much I KNOW she was doing, and with some kind of stool stuck on her heel. Now, I have done such things in my time. Perhaps not the giving new meaning to the term foot stool but I have to say I was alarmed to say the least, by the utterly inebriated state she was in and her assertion the next day it was nothing out of the ordinary where she came from. Indeed that the world and its granny had seen her in worse. Then there was her ability to be more forthright than a cow’s backside. That didn’t alarm me so much as finding her more interesting that way than any woman I’d met when I couldn’t afford to. Forget everything that said she dropped from another galaxy; far more alarming was I’m not into emotional connections as a rule. I knew I’d be making the mistake of my life not to keep her at arm’s length but I couldn’t.

I salute your tolerance, Mitchell, and your way with words. More forthright than a cow’s backside, indeed!

Were there any instances when Brittany embarrassed you?
Mitchell: I told her she did lots. And I will confess, Incy—I may call you that, BTO I’m not into stuffy formality—at that first supper, I had to stop her drinking and eating everything in sight, because we were being spied on. I once had to stop her wanting to dance with my son. But also—BTO—deep down, oh very well, the hell with it, in the very pit of my soul, beyond where I told myself she was going to cost me my inheritance, it wasn’t really because she embarrassed me that I got into rows with her about these things. I’ve lain in too many gutters and made far too many cock ups to ever be truly embarrassed, you understand?

Ah, despite the centuries separating them, these two got on. Wild child (Writer) and the Rake—a match made in heaven.

What did you find most bewildering about Brittany?
Mitchell: Okay, well, her absolute refusal to answer a question about herself, even when I was only trying to help her. The fact she seemed to have some connection to this man called Morte. The fact I saw myself in her and I didn’t really like it, but I wasn’t really able to walk away either.

Told you the man refused defeat.

What three things would you change about Brittany?
Mitchell: The barricades she lives behind. Believe me, you’d need a cannon blast. This lovers and friends is vastly overrated stuff when she chews her nails to bits, smokes non-stop and it’s obvious she’s been eaten from the inside out. The fact she’s not good at acknowledging she’s ever been hurt and regards vulnerability as a sign of weakness. I think these two tie together. As for apologising? Forget it. But would that hurt occasionally?

I whistle softly and look away. Brittany is not one for saying sorry—but it’s not my place to point that out.

Were Brittany a colour, what colour would she be? And Why?
Mitchell: Bright blazing scarlet would seem the obvious choice because of the way she hurtles towards extinction but I also see her in terms of invincible and cool midnight blue. Very edgy. Very breathy. Very delicious.

I gape. Here’s a man smitten…and damn, does he have a way with words. No, I'm not seeing green. Me jealous? Phfffft.

Were Brittany a piece of furniture, what would she be? And Why?
Mitchell: Brittany would be one of these coat stands but with all the hooks broken. So you can’t pin anything on her, ever. You may think you can, it’s all agreed and then wham, everything hits the floor. She’s not flexible. She goes her own way.

Definite way with words!

Sum up Brittany—the good, the bad, the downright ugly?

Got a quote where you put Brittany firmly in her place?
Mitchell: Just one? Well, I could quote from the water pump scene, the supper party scene, the one of your other floozies scene, in fact, I could quote from every scene because putting Brittany firmly in her place is as impossible as riding a horse across the moon and she always has a come back. She also thinks she can manage everything to her satisfaction. But I think the Francis Dashwood scene—he ran the Hellfire Club, I was once a member of—was one I don’t recall her having a comeback for.

       “I hope you don’t mind me asking Mitchell, but just how far are we going? I mean I don’t know about you, but my feet are killing me.”
       “And that was why you allowed that tedious old bastard to feel them, was it? Did you think it would make them feel better?”

Hark, yet another hammering at my door, this one most definitely less polite. From the roll of his eyes, Mitchell knows full well he's been tracked down for a policing. "I'd best go," he says, pushing to his feet. "There's no saying what that woman might do, if I don't... It's been a pleasure, Incy. Albeit, a short one."
My delight? I receive another killer smile--before I scoot behind the sofa. Felled as I am by Mitchell, I'm in no state to field the ever enticing (and somewhat dangerous) Brittany.

Blurb: The Writer and the Rake

1765 had bugger all to recommend it.
He saw her coming. If he’d known her effect he'd have walked away.

When it comes to doing it all, hard coated ‘wild child’ writer, Brittany Carter ticks every box. Having it all is a different thing though, what with her need to thwart an ex fiancé, and herself transported from the present to Georgian times. But then, so long as she can find her way back to her world of fame, and promised fortune, what's there to worry about?

Georgian bad boy Mitchell Killgower is at the center of an inheritance dispute and he needs Brittany as his obedient, country mouse wife. Or rather he needs her like a hole in the head. In and out of his bed he’s never known a woman like her. A woman who can disappear and reappear like her either.

And when his coolly contained anarchist, who is anything but, learns how to return to her world and stay there, will having it all be enough, or does she underestimate him...and herself?

About Shehanne Moore
When not cuddling inn signs in her beloved Scottish mountains alongside Mr Shey, Shehanne Moore writes dark and smexy historical romance, featuring bad boys who need a bad girl to sort them out. She firmly believes everyone deserves a little love, forgiveness and a second chance in life.
Shehanne caused general apoplexy when she penned her first story, The Hore House Mystery—aged seven. What didn’t she work at while pursuing her dream of becoming a published author?

Visit her hamster run blog http://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/

What hasn’t she worked at while pursuing her dream of becoming a published author? Shehanne still lives in Scotland, with her husband Mr Shey. She has two daughters. When not writing intriguing historical romance, where goals and desires of sassy, unconventional heroines and ruthless men, mean worlds collide, she plays the odd musical instrument and loves what in any other country, would not be defined, as hill-walking.

The Writer and The Rake: get it here

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AUS
Amazon Canada

KABOOM!

3/28/2017

When the years 2017 (Ms. Brittany Carter) and
1765 (Georgian bad-boy, Mitchel Killgower) collided in Shehanne Moore's time slip tale The Writer and The Rake I anticipated sparks. A meteor shower worth of flash points and pointed flashes…and then I met Brittany, interviewed her actually, and all I can say from the experience is: Mitchell, you have my sympathies, she’s hilarious, but more than a handful.

This is what Brittany Carter had to say for herself.

Best brace!

What three items from 2017 (and unobtainable in 1765) did you most miss?
Brittany: Fags darling. Definitely fags and maybe even more fags. I mean I can’t smoke these disgusting bloody cigar things that they think pass for fags. And I’m telling you now, I don’t know Mitchell likes them either or he wouldn’t have kept pinching my humble stash of two, or three, okay it was twenty, packets. Was that three things? I’m really not very good at counting as such. Voddie was another consideration. I mean I know it existed then but not in England. Had Mitchell been a Russian count that would have been fine. What is it about you bloody authors that you can’t stop torturing your characters in such mean ways? When we are such nice people and never any trouble to you? Decent bloody shoes is another thing. I mean I know there’s shoes in 1765 but they were not as we know them.

(Well, that will make me popular with the anti-smoking brigade, writers, and cobblers. But a least the Russians come out reasonably unscathed.)

What three ‘inconveniences’ or conventions common to 1765, drove you insane?
Brittany: The bloody servants for starters. Do you know every morning the average Georgian housewife was expected to spend like two hours instructing them? It was why breakfast wasn’t held till God knows when, oh all right, it was 11am. You have no idea the run-ins Mitchell and I had over that stupid convention. Then there were the damned dinners with all these same bloody servants standing about like stuffed trouts, eavesdropping on every word—Mitchell and I had one or two, oh all right, maybe it was three or four—when he was very lucky to have me around, helping him with his inheritance problem. Also, did I tell you about the baths? I don’t know why they wasted time heating the water, because by the time that bath was filled, it was stone bloody cold.

(I felt it was prudent to smile (weakly) at this stage, and move on fast.)

Adjusting to 1765 would challenge the most competent of modern day women. What was the greatest challenge you faced?
Brittany: Well darling, can I just say it began with M and ended with L? But being so very competent—and I trust that is what you are saying—I daresay that biting my tongue was a challenge. Did I also mention the fact that women were shaped differently? I could never get the shoes on, or the dresses to fasten properly. I’d also have to say that contraception was a huge problem then. Have I mentioned more than one thing? And quite an important thing unless one has a few items in one’s handbag? To quote Mitchell, “for my behavior I do apologize.”

(Intrigued? Read the book!)

What three things irritated you the most about Mitchell?
Brittany: Just three? Oh well. Mitchell’s bossy. I mean they do say it takes one to know one, but not in this instance. I suppose that, in addition to being a man of his times, he’s a very confident, assured and powerful man of his times, so that makes him ten times your average bossy man. Even his son can’t relate to him because of that. Also, once he’s gone for broke he will do anything to obfuscate. Like he just doesn’t want to be thought lacking when it comes to being in control and you frankly just get to the point where you can do without it. And I wouldn’t call him helpful. You have no idea how I needed him to get rid of that Time Mutant Mort and he just wouldn’t do it. Or how I cut my foot and all he did was complain about the bloody mess on the carpet.

(Hmmm… Maybe the carpet was valuable. Mitchell is paying me a visit shortly after Brittany, I prefer that he turns up from his interview well-disposed towards me)

In your eyes, what three things redeem Mitchell?
Brittany: Now darling, this would mean giving spoilers. So, staying away from him and me, let’s say he does become kinder to his son. He tries to make out that he’s not father material, but you do see that underneath he respects Fleming and the fact they are just very different people. He actually accepts his own position with good grace and despite everything I’ve said above, he is absolutely the kind of man to take your back in every way.

What three things bewildered you about Mitchell?
Brittany: His pig headedness. I mean, there he was without a brass farthing to his name and he would still try to put me out. If that is not being pigheaded, when he needed me to stand any kind of chance of inheriting Killaine House AND he was desperate to inherit, I don’t know what is. Or why he’d do that either. Would someone kindly explain? Then there was his tendency to go for broke, meaning he tiresomely back pedaled more than a high wire artist’s bicycle several times. You think someone would learn, but no. Also, despite everything, I couldn’t quite get why his marriage had been such a mess. You know his wife hadn’t liked him at all? Not even a teeny tiny baby bit. She actually preferred anyone to him.

(Yikes, not a subject I’ll be touching on with Mitchell when he visits)

If Mitchell was a piece of furniture, what would he be? And Why?
Brittany: I think he’d be more like these fancy stag heads you see on walls, you know, tangle with them at your peril. I know that’s not furniture as such. Either that, or some of these vast, multi-drawered wardrobes. So complicated you don’t know which drawer to open first and when you do, you will wish you hadn't.

Sum up Mitchell--the good, the bad, the downright ugly.

Got a quote where you put Mitchell firmly in his place?
Brittany: Oh, how long have you got. The problem with Mitchell though, is his comebacks.
Still, I rather feel this was one where he was sort of silenced….. for a little moment anyway. It was after a run in over the servants.

“So as conditions go, it does not prevent you from sitting on your backside?”
“You know, I almost think you’re taken with my backside, the amount of times you mention it.”

Gluts... Well, I know where my eyes will be wandering when Mitchell visits. "Thank you for visiting Brittany… Yes you can help yourself to my vodka collection on your way out. And again, it’s been a pleasure."

Blurb: The Writer and the Rake

1765 had bugger all to recommend it.
He saw her coming. If he’d known her effect he'd have walked away.

When it comes to doing it all, hard coated ‘wild child’ writer, Brittany Carter ticks every box. Having it all is a different thing though, what with her need to thwart an ex fiancé, and herself transported from the present to Georgian times. But then, so long as she can find her way back to her world of fame, and promised fortune, what's there to worry about?

Georgian bad boy Mitchell Killgower is at the center of an inheritance dispute and he needs Brittany as his obedient, country mouse wife. Or rather he needs her like a hole in the head. In and out of his bed he’s never known a woman like her. A woman who can disappear and reappear like her either.

And when his coolly contained anarchist, who is anything but, learns how to return to her world and stay there, will having it all be enough, or does she underestimate him...and herself?

Party Party party

3/20/2017

Yes, it’s release day for Hard to Protect and that’s very exciting (scary, too), so I’m posting a few teasers to give you a flavour of what to expect from Will Berwick and Angel Treherne.

But…but…but… Hard to Protect is but one of seven fabulous books Entangled Publishing release today. A shout out is merited for each and every new title. Just click on each image for details. ENJOY!

Hellish Hard Getting heard

3/5/2017

It's hellish hard getting heard. That's one of the harshest realities authors face. Especially with the wealth of good advice out there on how to get your book noticed, because so sound is that advice that we all follow it. Which only adds to the din above which it is damn hard to be heard. Some beat back defeat by throwing coin--terrific, if you have sufficient to spare. Some shout and rely on the echo effect--book blogs and tours, the support of fans and friends to spread the word via Facebook shares, re-tweets, reviews. Others network their arses off at events and in groups, both in person and on line. Newsletters fly out, slumbering blogs get awoken; it's easy to get overwhelmed by the tsunami of 'must dos'.

But does any of this fervent activity work? Well, it certainly does no harm--though cautions abound about doing too much shouting. And it's these helpful cautions that niggle me. Because what is 'too much'?Where's the line that should not be crossed? Does anyone really know what's right or wrong about about getting seen and heard? Nope, not with any certainty. When faced with a marketing opportunity note the marked hesitation and the shuffling retreat if you ask for absolute qualification of success. You won't get a answer, not a straight one anyway.

Disheartened? Don't be, it a cacophonic world out there and the melody is discordant for most. So screw any mistakes you might make, screw whether you got the volume of your shout right, screw your own lack of harmony. Be brave. Whether by way of a serene whisper or an open throated bellow, embrace the need to be heard rather than the 'right' way of making your sound, because when it comes to getting noticed one certainty does exist: Silence isn't golden, its suicide!

Cover make-over

3/2/2017

The Hard to... or Black Ops Heroes series receive a cover refresh from my publisher Entangled Publishing in time for Book #3, Hard to Protect. Release date March 20th. Available for pre-order:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon Aus
Amazon Canada

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