This has been a very strange week.
Along with trying to organise the book launch for Ghost of a Chance and sending out the promo material for all those lovely people taking part; I have been battling with not feeling great. Coping with the new meds they have given me to help dissolve the blockage in my right coronary artery has not been a walk in the park.
My body doesn’t care for medications of any kind, never has, but I did hope this time might be different, considering what might happen if they don’t work. The thought of possibly having my ribs cracked and being opened like a filleted fish is scaring me silly.
I have endured a lot in my life, but something tells me this might be a bridge too far.
So, regardless of my fuzzy head, muscle cramps and nausea, I am determined to handle this problem my way. I have reviewed my diet and upped the amount of time I do yoga. At least I feel a little better with all these positive thoughts and actions!
This brings me to the reason for this post today.
A damaged detective, out of a job
A relationship on the rocks
What does the future hold for David Snow?
Just when he thought life couldn’t get any worse
A ghost with a grudge adds to his pain
A ghost hell-bent on stopping him from rebuilding his life…
Excerpt from Ghost of a Chance
It was pretty late when Alan Turner let himself in. He couldn’t hear the television, so he assumed making himself a cup of coffee was safe. Normally, he wasn’t allowed in her kitchen and forbidden to use the kettle, but he had been sitting outside in the car for the best part of an hour, and his mouth was dry.
The kettle had just switched itself off, and he was pouring the hot water into the cup when the voice of doom spoke from the doorway.
‘What the bloody hell are you doing in my kitchen?’
He didn’t answer or turn around. He figured she could see well enough what he was doing. It wouldn’t matter anyway, for she never liked anything he said. He casually picked up the cup and took a sip, even though it burned his mouth.
Before he knew what hit him, she had knocked the cup out of his hand, the hot coffee soaking through his clothes.
‘Clear that mess up and get out of my kitchen!’ She stood in front of him glaring, almost defying him to retaliate.
When he didn’t move, she raised her hand to hit him. Instinctively, he leaned forward and shoved her. He didn’t push hard, but she went backwards, striking her head on the door frame.
He expected all hell to break loose at that point, but she lay there, her eyes unfocused, making no effort to get up.
An old memory suddenly surfaced, and he saw his mother lying there, blood trickling out of her mouth and eyes, beaten to death by his stepfather. He was just seven years old and terrified of what would happen next. A neighbour had rescued him and called the police. Alan had spent the next few years in children’s homes, finally becoming free on his 16th birthday. His life continued to be unkind until he met his wife.
Looking down at the sprawled figure at his feet, he couldn’t bring himself to touch her to see if she was all right. If she wasn’t dead, he would know about it soon enough. He couldn’t stay in the house; fate had finally intervened, showing him the error of his misplaced loyalty. He left the house to sleep in his car, determined to find somewhere better to live in the morning.
In the guise of his mother-in-law, fate had decided he wouldn’t be leaving just yet. The following morning, desperate to use the toilet, he let himself into the house, praying she was asleep or still unconscious. Not only was she conscious, but she was smiling, and there was a cooked breakfast on the kitchen table, something she had never done before. Deciding to accept what appeared to be an olive branch, he waited to see what she was up to.
Over the bacon and eggs, she threatened to have him arrested for assault if he tried to leave. Not fooled for a minute by this new development, he wondered what game she was playing now. The obvious conclusion was that she didn’t want his torment or money to stop anytime soon.
It was a very subdued but disappointed man who went to work that day…
I know you are all busy and time is short, but if you could buy a copy; UK and the US and leave a few words on launch day, September 27th on Amazon, or Goodreads, you would make this old lady very happy.
Ghost of a Chance might be my last book (although I really hope not!), and I would love it to do well, just in case…
*** ARC copies are available on request in the comments ***