Silent Sunday… Jaye’s favourite walk…

Today, I need to go for a walk, but a virtual one, down memory lane…

This gate leads to the Riverside Walk, in Liss Forest, Hampshire

This beautiful bridge welcomes you on your journey

The river is old, and timeless. A secret place…

so much of this walk is wild and free, and it can be contagious…

I feel so much better now!

Today was Supposed to be a Good Day…

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

I must apologise for the confusion yesterday, as I have no idea why everything got so mixed up. If you didn’t notice, please ignore this post!

Today was supposed to be a good day, concentrating on doing all the things I enjoy, like creating a book trailer and working on more promotion ideas. So far, it has not been a walk in the park.

There had obviously been more tinkering going on overnight. The minute I logged on, I was plagued by something called Mcafee, insisting I had five viruses on my computer and simply must use their magic to get rid of them. Persistent little bugger, it just wouldn’t go away!

Then, I found that I couldn’t log into my emails. Apparently, they thought my provider didn’t exist anymore. Well, I spent the next hour checking everything I could think of, my temper growing all the time. Not sure what worked, but all of a sudden, my emails appeared, and I could start work.

That was roughly when I discovered I had posted the wrong material under a totally different heading yesterday. God knows what the recipient thought I was doing! I can only surmise that I need to take it easy for the rest of the day, give my poor brain time to catch up…

Jaye

Hope you have a better day!

Jaye’s Week ~ #Progress

It is getting harder than ever to come up with posts that are not filled with even a little doom and gloom, mainly because I am trying so hard to avoid thinking about the future.

I should be bouncing around like a two-year-old at a birthday party, full of the joy of the approaching release of my latest masterpiece.

The excitement is there, somewhere, as I get moments when I forget everything else and become a writer and nothing else matters.

Book Four in the series, but can be read as a stand alone

The pre-release is going well, HERE IN UK and IN US with interest on amazon itself and also my own marketing efforts on social media and Bookfunnel HERE.

Many, many thanks to everyone who has taken part!

I almost have everything ready for next week’s launch, and I’m busy working on a trailer and the paperback edition.

It crossed my mind that I should be promoting the previous book in the series, CrossFire, so I have reduced the price in case anyone is interested in finding out what happened before and how my favourite detective, David Snow, ended up the way he did.

Blurb for CrossFire

A mysterious thriller about an unusual serial killer, from the author of Nine Lives and Out of Time…

Detective Snow has another killer to catch.

A killer as mysterious as the crimes he commits.

Someone has killed his sergeant and now seems to be coming after him.

He is hampered by the arrival of ‘Ruthless’ DI Ruth Winton,

Someone who is not who she seems to be.

Can he outwit this killer, or will the truth cost him his life?

Colleen’s Challenge ~ #Poetry

Picture credit: Britta Benson. This photograph was taken inside St. Cecilia’s Church (built in 1739), Heusenstamm, Germany. 

Born
conjoined
lived as one
haunted, they cry
for a better life
hiding in dark spaces
they dream of how they might be
if only they had been born as one
in a world of possibilities
their crying can still be heard to this day…

©AnitaDawes2022

Mindlovemisery Menagerie ~ Wordle #288 ~ #Poetry

I imagine that most boys play at being a pirate
Tying a bandana around their forehead
As I walk the same footpath today
My thoughts sway back to when I played the same game
Searching for the treasure I believed to be beneath the pavilion
I confess to digging there, hoping to find a sapphire
That I would make into a necklace for my sister
These days, I volunteer as a drama teacher
Hoping to stir young minds, helping them believe 
in the possibilities they imagine…

©AnitaDawes

Jaye’s Week…

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.

Ghost of a Chance is now on pre-release on Amazon for just 99p. UK: and US:

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 ***