You will probably remember Milo. That adorable marmalade and white kitten who arrived unexpectedly just before Christmas?
Turned out to be a bit of a monster. Still adorable, of course. Very affectionate and all that, but still a monster.
There are times when we wonder if there can be such a thing as a cat with schizophrenia, as he does seem to have a split personality. He can leap from docile to demonic in seconds, and his temper has to be seen to be believed. He also has one hell of an appetite and has grown so much with no sign of stopping.
Milo had been desperate to go out for ages but had to wait until he was vaccinated and chipped. When we finally unlocked the cat flap, we thought he would sail through it, more than ready to explore. He had spent enough time looking out of windows, so his reluctance seemed odd.
We tried everything. We put his toys outside where he could see them. This didn’t work. He followed me everywhere, always hoping for food, so I went outside, expecting him to follow. Not a chance. Maybe he knew there was no food out there?
After a while, we gave him a little shove. We were getting a little desperate by then, as he still wanted to go out, but only if we opened the door.
He liked being outside, although he didn’t venture very far. When he had enough, he shot back through the flap like a bullet! To this day, he won’t go out through the flap but always comes back that way.
See what we mean? Milo is a very crazy cat. His temper is worrying us, though.
We first began to notice it in the mornings after our number one son leaves for work. Milo runs around the house like a ninja on speed, wrecking anything that gets in his way. We learned the hard way not to interfere or offer any condolences, to simply wait until he calmed down. I was badly bitten just by offering to console him, which hurt my pride somewhat.
His favourite pastime is trying to rip the roller blinds in the living room down. He can jump to reach the chains but also hangs on the bottom, managing to drag all the material from the roller. All carpets are his scratch pad, despite spraying them with a multitude of deterrents.
So you see, life with Milo is certainly different and not what we are used to. Well, mostly. When he is asleep or affectionate, he is lovely…
My mind is not in a good place this morning. Usually, on a Monday, I gather ideas and plan my week, but that hasn’t happened. I am trying to keep calm (sort off) while I wait for Thursday’s appointment to arrive, but on the inside, I feel a bit like the fellow in this morning’s image. Alone and lost in a strange situation that is beyond my control.
I hate not knowing my fate. I can cope with anything and have done on many an occasion, but this uncertainty drives me nuts.
I have tried everything, from housework… which failed miserably. Do I really care right now if the floor needs a wash?
Then writing… I struggled with it like a stranded fish, making me antsier. I can usually forget everything when I write!
By then, all I had left was twiddling my thumbs, driving the family nuts or knitting. An almost-finished sweater for my great-niece found its way onto my lap. I do a lot of thinking when I knit and have sorted out quite a few world-class problems that way.
I did manage a lot of knitting last night, but disappointingly, hardly any thinking occurred.
The only good thing at the moment is that my autopilot seems to be engaged, so routines are being followed after a fashion. I have a dentist appointment this afternoon that I wish I could cancel. I need new teeth, so I must turn up. The sun is shining today, although it is freezing out there, but the walk might do me good.
A family massacred. A village in mourning. Can anyone sleep safely while a killer is on the loose?
Laura Percival, owner of The Stables, notices something wrong at her friend’s house when out on her morning ride. Further investigation reveals scenes she’ll never forget.
While the police are quick to accuse, Laura is less so, defending those around her as she struggles to make sense of the deaths. And all the time she wonders if she really knew her friends at all.
A chance encounter opens up a line of investigation that uncovers a secret life. One that Laura is much closer to than she ever realised.
A Killer Strikes is a gripping domestic thriller. If you like character-driven action, suspenseful storytelling and dark revelations then you’ll love this exciting novel.
Georgia Rose is a writer and the author of the romantic and suspenseful Grayson Trilogy books: A Single Step, Before the Dawn and Thicker than Water. Following completion of the trilogy she was asked for more and so wrote a short story, The Joker, which is based on a favourite character from the series and the eBook is available to download for free at the retailer of your choice.
Her fourth novel, Parallel Lies, encompasses crime along with Georgia’s usual blending of genre and its sequel, Loving Vengeance, has now completed The Ross Duology.
Georgia’s background in countryside living, riding, instructing and working with horses has provided the knowledge needed for some of her storylines; the others are a product of her passion for people watching and her overactive imagination.
She has also recently started running workshops and providing one-to-one support for those wishing to learn how to independently publish and you can find her, under her real name, at http://www.threeshirespublishing.com.
Following a long stint working in the law Georgia set up her own business providing administration services for other companies which she does to this day managing to entwine that work along with her writing.
Her busy life is set in a tranquil part of rural Cambridgeshire in the UK where she lives with her much neglected husband and dog.
Our Review
The first chapter sets the mood and asks all the right questions but doesn’t quite prepare you for what is to come.
Unusually, the main protagonist is not a detective, and it was interesting to see the case from a layman’s point of view. I loved the chapter headings too!
One by one, every character in the story comes under suspicion, but I never figured it out, and the ending was really surprising. I have often wondered how I would cope if the same situation happened to me.
A Killer Strikes is the author’s first brilliant foray into the world of the psychological thriller, and I am really looking forward to reading Shape of Revenge, the next story in the Shade Darker Series…
It is supposed to be, but I think not. Not the way most people do it, anyway.
I have always hated imitation of any kind, for it always seems to take something away from the original. Why do we need to have substitutions when we already have the original? Why can’t they leave well enough alone?
It doesn’t seem to matter where you go, whatever field you are interested in, there will always be someone trying to copy or improve something.
My pet hate is the remakes of all my favourite films. I watched the new (and supposedly improved) Ben Hur with my family, (it was either that or revising!) But even with all of today’s wonderful new technology, it wasn’t a patch on the original film with Charlton Heston.
I love to watch all kinds of people at work. Artists, sculptors, craftspeople, even plumbers and mechanics. I think this is because my nosy brain just wants to know how things work. My favourite programme at the moment is Artist of the Year and I love watching how all the different artists go about creating original and unique pieces of artwork.
What I cannot stand about these programmes, are the so-called experts who try to tell the artists that what they have done is wrong and how they should have done it. Sometimes the thoughtless and callous way they pull the work apart is so cruel it makes me cringe.
To my mind, no one has the right to condemn or criticise a work of art. Either you like it, or you don’t, but don’t presume to know better than the artist.
As a writer, I subject my work to beta readers and editors so that errors can be pointed out and corrected. This is normally done in a constructive, helpful manner and not in a condescending “I know better” attitude.
Critics always sound so false, their remarks too self-serving and the damage they can do to any fledgeling artistic genius should carry a health warning.
I personally have had at least one scathing critique of my writing; one so bad I wanted to shred every page and then crawl away and hide in a cupboard. It is only when you realise that it is only an opinion and probably not meant to kill the tiny shoots of creativity in your soul that you can pick yourself up and move on.
I may not be a great writer or even a particularly good one, but I am trying my best. At the end of the day, that’s all we can ever do. But what we do produce, whether it is good, bad or indifferent, it is original and not some cocked up imitation…
(And before you all reach for your keyboard, I know I have just criticised quite a lot of people… my bad!)
Young Annie’s life was perfect until she uncovers a nasty family secret, something her parents have been doing for years.
Now she knows about it, she cannot continue to live like this, but her protests fall on deaf ears.
How can she hope to change what has become a way of life for her family?
Her struggle to change everything only makes her life so much worse, forcing her to try to escape, but how far must she run to escape the truth?
Can Annie make a new life for herself, or will they hunt her down and bring her back?
Amazon Review
Bad Moon is narrated in the first person by Annie, a young girl who lives happily with her family: mother (Ruby), father (Jed), and older brother (Nathan). She adores her father, although her mother’s behaviour is far from exemplary (she regularly invites other men to her home and that results in incidents with her husband, who takes it out on the men and seem remarkably tolerant of his wife’s behaviour). At first, Annie is worried that she might end up becoming a woman like her mother when she grows up and thinks it is all due to her mother’s family (her father says that her mother was born under a ‘bad moon’ and she comes from ‘the Hills’ where people seem to have their own morality and rules of behaviour). The inhabitants of the Hills seem to be a directly related to those of The Hills Have Eyes or the banjo players in Deliverance. What Annie doesn’t know is that things are worse than she ever could imagine. She has lived all her life in a world of lies and secrets. She is convinced she must learn the truth to avoid history repeating itself and is prepared to go to any lengths to achieve that. The costs are high indeed.
Annie does not have much formal schooling (she decides to leave school when she realises things aren’t as they should) but she is extremely articulate, and some of the descriptions of the landscape surrounding her home, of her experiences and dreams, her mystical feelings on visiting the caves previously inhabited by a Native-American tribe, and her reflections are beautiful and lyrical. We might disagree with some of her decisions but it is difficult not to admire her determination. She never tries to be liked or makes excuses for her own behaviour (she might blame others at times, but despite not being a believer or having much in the way of role models, she does question her actions and tries to make things better), and she is neither all good nor all bad. It’s a testimony to the skill of the author that although Annie’s head is not a pleasant place to be in, we can’t help but wish she’ll succeed and live to see another day.
Excerpt
I couldn’t worry about Ma now and we sat quiet for a while, watching the birds settle for the night. The sun going down laid a blanket of red across the field, like the blood of generations being pulled back from the earth. As if they were trying to remind us they were still there and trying to tell us something. As the sun continued its journey down for the night, the blood colour shrank across the field, as if it were trying to catch up with the setting sun before the moon could touch it with its silvery fingers.
I’d walked across the field many times when it was bathed in that red glow and the feeling of belonging was stronger then, but to what? I still couldn’t figure it out as the feeling didn’t last long enough. I’d talked to Ma about it and all she said was, ‘Some folks never find the place they belong, but you keep looking, Annie, for you just might.’ She said it in a way that made me feel it was real important to keep looking.
I got to thinking that no one really knows what they’re talking about for they never finish what they’re saying. About halfway through they go all dreamy looking like they’re remembering something, but they don’t know what it is anymore.
A soft wind came up, carrying a chill around its outsides, the way it does when the middle’s still warm. Nathan put his shirt on, saying he was going for a walk. That was something he’d taken to doing more and more often and I knew he wanted to be by himself. I still had the candy bar in my hand, and I put it in my pocket before going inside. Not that I thought Ma would take it, I just didn’t want her to know that Nathan had given it to me. Should she ask, I could lie but Ma had a way of knowing a lie when she heard it.
I wasn’t sure why I didn’t want her to know, maybe it was because she was acting funny and like Nathan said, there aint no telling what she’s gonna do next. But maybe it was something to do with Nathan; he had given me something more than just a candy bar. I got the feeling we could be close again, but he didn’t want Ma to know about it.
Ma didn’t put meat out for supper, just bread rolls and cheese and the pickle that Ma made herself. I didn’t feel much like eating, but breakfast could be a long time coming if you got real hungry. I sat at the table, picking at it until Ma said food weren’t for playing with. I heard what she said, but my mind was on the caves and the way Nathan spoke about them. I couldn’t wait for sunup…
If I have timed this right, Bad Moon should be available for just 99p!
A relatable story full of suspense, with psychological twists and turns in every chapter.
Dawn Foster lost her 18-year-old son, Ben following a tragic accident and a few months afterwards her husband Gary left her. Then, quite by chance, Dawn discovers her son’s ‘lucky stone’ concealed in the pocket of his favourite jacket. She carries the treasured stone with her everywhere, even keeping it under her pillow at night. The day after the discovery, Dawn’s life suddenly begins to take a series of inexplicable turns that leave her suspecting she has some form of stress-induced amnesia. But soon she is forced to face an even more frightening explanation that leaves her doubting more than just her memory. With her son dead, her husband gone and life quite literally out of control, how will Dawn ever be happy again?
Meet the AuthorSian Turner
I am a UK author based in East Sussex and am a long-standing member of Shorelink Writers. My first two novels were historical fiction stories, but I now write magical realism (contemporary novels with a paranormal/supernatural element).
To anyone who has bought one of my books, a resounding THANK YOU. Reviews are tough to get though, and can make or break a book, so a huge double thank you if you have also reviewed any of them.
Our Thoughts
Splitting Infinities is a remarkable story.
An extremely clever and complicated plot that will tie your brain in knots.
The attention to detail is quite amazing.
I loved the way Dawn had to start keeping a journal to understand all the confusing changes in her life.
Not that it helped much, for as fast as she thought she understood what was happening and why, it all changed again.
How I managed to cope with such a complex story arc, I don’t know, but I enjoyed trying to figure it all out all the twists and turns!
Amazon Link (as the usual way doesn’t appear to be working!)
Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie 