Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie

Two determined authors, bulletproof and dangerous…


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What is Your Favourite Pastime?

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Someone asked me this question the other day and I had to hesitate before answering. I thought it would be writing or reading, but other hobbies pushed the word aside. And it is true, there are so many things that I enjoy doing. There are also many things I no longer have the time for.

The next question is usually, “but one of them must be special in some way?”

Again, there isn’t just one that comes to mind and this must be true for most people.

Depending on our mood, we like doing different things. For instance, my writing mind works best first thing in the morning. Later in the day, I have trouble writing anything. And when I am tired, I like to spend time in the garden with my bonsai.

I love jigsaw puzzles too, but these days I prefer to do them on line. So much choice, easier to do, no more juggling hundreds of pieces on limited table space. You can’t lose any of the pieces either.

In many ways, I realise that all my favourite pastimes are very similar. They all involve a degree of patience, attention to detail and an over active imagination.

At the moment, I have a huge pile of work in progress. Two fiction books to finish, a collection of short stories to prepare for publication and various editing jobs for Anita’s books, not to mention a veritable queue of reviews to finish.

My collection of bonsai should come quite high on my list, as they always need something doing. There is a very good reason they are never considered finished. They continue to grow and need constant attention. Plus, they are all different ages with different needs.

Add to this list, two crochet projects and a pile of dressmaking as yet unfinished. And all those other urgent things that hide in my brain, lulling me into a false sense of achievement.

So the answer to the original question, what is my favourite pastime, should be . . .

 

“My favourite pastime is living and enjoying everything I do get around to. . .”


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Rosie’s #BookReviewTeam #RBRT Cleaved by Sue Coletta @SueColetta1

 

#RBRT Review Team

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Cleaved     by Sue Coletta… to be released 3rd May


Cleaved … such an old fashioned emotive word and one used to great effect in this thrilling crime story.

This crime thriller opens with a gripping prologue. A woman is trapped inside a steel drum, terrified for her life. You are instantly there with her, experiencing every gruesome and terrifying moment as she tries to escape.

Somewhere in the Lake Region of New England, a ruthless killer is on the prowl. He needs to kill Sage Quintano, the author wife of the Sheriff, Niko Quintano, but his reason is not clear.

Someone starts to follow Sage, tormenting her with a nursery rhyme and then her world starts to fall apart. I loved the way the chapters alternated sometimes, as the two women in the story, Sage and her husband’s female deputy, Frankie Campanelli take turns to build the tension and the story, and you couldn’t have two more different women than these.

I thought the plot and storyline were expertly handled, for despite all the confusing clues I couldn’t  tell the guilty from the innocent. The dialogue was handled well, with arguments strongly portrayed and believable. The tension builds gradually, almost painfully so. I read somewhere that the author actually experienced being inside a steel drum, for the sake of realism, I hope!

The interaction with the Quintano dogs, Colt and Ruger, was rather special too, the scene where Sage and the dogs comfort one another was really moving.

I would have preferred an English vocabulary, as some of the terms used were unfamiliar to me. And I’m not sure about the over-description of the maggots!

I will be reading Marred, the first book in this series, as I know I will enjoy that one too, and I can find out what happened to Sage’s sister…

Book Description

Author Sage Quintano writes about crime. Her husband Niko investigates it. Together they make an unstoppable team. But no one counted on a twisted serial killer, who stalks their sleepy community, uproots their happy home, and splits the threads that binds their family unit.
Darkness swallows the Quintano’s whole–ensnared by a ruthless killer out for blood. Why he focused on Sage remains a mystery, but he won’t stop till she dies like the others.
Women impaled by deer antlers, bodies encased in oil drums, nursery rhymes, and the Suicide King. What connects these cryptic clues? For Sage and Niko, the truth may be more terrifying than they ever imagined.

(Thank you to the author and to #RBRT for my #Free review copy)


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Our Cornish Book…

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An excerpt from Let it Go…

My footsteps felt lighter once we were inside. I was surprised by what I saw. The room was small but clean and tidy. Dried herbs hung over the fireplace, and there were several pieces of strong wooden furniture. One soft armchair stood next to the hearth. There were no ornaments, and no dust or cobwebs to be seen. I had the feeling they wouldn’t be allowed in here. The air itself didn’t seem to move as if time stood still.

Samuel asked us to sit down. ‘I have been expecting you.’

I chose one of the wooden chairs that stood around the table, and as I sat down, a strong feeling of peace enveloped me, like being inside an empty church. My romantic side would describe it as a feeling of coming home. Mark, with his Sixties kind of mind, probably noticed it before we came in.

He sat down at the table, on the chair nearest to me. Samuel reappeared with a tray. He hadn’t asked if we wanted tea and I hadn’t even noticed him move to make it. I was too busy looking around the place like a local tourist. He put bone china cups and saucers in front of us. The orange liquid smelled slightly perfumed, a pleasant smell.

Mark noticed me wrinkling my nose.

‘Cinnamon,’ he said. ‘Drink it, it’s good.’

I took a sip, and it was spicy on my tongue. I put it down, rather too quickly.

‘No thanks.’

Samuel had sat himself down in the armchair. It was strange, but seeing him sitting down, I noticed how long his legs were. His clothes were almost threadbare, but his large black boots had a shine on them. When he spoke again all the fear in me slipped away. There was no harm in this man, this man born of fire. He must have heard the stories as he grew up but they hadn’t left their mark on him. Was it Ruth who had done such a good job of mothering, or was it Martha’s genes he carried into the Despite the fact, she had been playing with the fire, which eventually took her life.

He spoke without looking at us. Mark reached across the table and laid his hand over mine. I didn’t need the reassurance he offered, but I didn’t move my hand or look at him. My eyes were on Samuel, ears at attention.

‘You found Morgan’s diary, been letting the writing get to you. Asking too many questions and spending long hours in the house of books. There’s nothing in there to help, should have come to see me sooner. Save time and a lot of mixed up feelings.’

I found enough air in my lungs to speak and said I had plenty of time to spare, that my feelings were fine. ‘But I do believe someone should be held accountable for what happened to Martha,’

The sound of her name didn’t seem to mean anything to him. I saw no change in his face or voice.

‘Why?’ He said. It didn’t appear to be a question. ‘Keep pain alive, when living is pain enough for far too many people? I know the story of my birth and the things they have said about the mother who bore me. Of Ruth, who fed and clothed me and taught me how to help even when help was not asked for.’

Mark had told me all about the herbs being left on people’s doorsteps when they were needed. About one young girl who might have died had Samuel not helped her. They actually used these herbs while speaking so ill of him, yet leaving food outside his door as payment.

‘There are many good stories in the Bible. I will tell you something from it. Look to the living, leave the dead to take care of the dead.’

As he spoke these words, looking directly at me for the first time, I felt strange, all empty inside, as if some part of me had been scooped out. I knew what it was without him saying it. My need to punish them had simply left me. But what did ‘look to the living’ mean?

He looked at me with those pale grey eyes that darkened with the words he spoke next.

‘You have a sister, a small part of yourself.’

God, I had never thought of Sally like that, nor would she like me to. He was right though, she was a part of me.

‘You need to watch over her, keep her close to you.’

I told him then this wasn’t something Sally would let me do.

‘No matter. It’s to her you need to give your concern.’

Then I asked him why to say what was in his mind in plain English.

‘Sally appears to have been marked by an early death, one of her own making.’

This reminded me of something Nan had said, about Sally drowning in a storm of her own making.

Samuel couldn’t explain what he felt. ‘The visions are too vague as yet. They will come, and then I will find a way to let you know.’

It didn’t help me much. He had just told me Sally would die as if the Mafia had a contract out on her, and I had to wait?

I was getting more than a little annoyed at his Bible prophecies, as good as double Dutch when there was nothing you could do about them. My initial instinct had been right. I should have walked away. I shouldn’t have come here, shouldn’t have let Mark lead me through the door.

I knew Martha and the diary would all take a back seat now. That my stupid mind would play tricks on me, waking and sleeping about Sally. The hands of death reaching far too early for her immortal soul.

*******************************************************************************

People often ask us if we have a competitive partnership, and to be honest, I don’t think we do. So far, our achievements have been pretty equal, although I will always admit that Anita is the far better writer.

So, it came as a bit of a surprise, that when I mentioned how many hits my book The Last Life had just received on Amazon’s KDP, (137 plus one print copy) Anita came back with “I don’t usually get that many, do I?”

Not really a question I could answer, but it will really be interesting to see how many Let it Go gets as it is now #Free on Amazon for the next five days.

Will you make her day and prove my theory?

Universal Amazon Link:      myBook.to/LetGo

 

 

 


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Make an Author Smile…

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The #Free promotion on Amazon for The Last Life is coming to an end, and I wanted to thank everyone who has snapped up a copy. The response has been amazing!

I try not to think about reviews, and how many of you will be kind enough to say a few words about my book on Amazon, but it is difficult not to. Without your comments, we writers have no real idea of what you think, and we need to. This is how we go on writing, getting better as we go, and this would be so much easier to do if we knew you liked our work even a little bit.

I know some of you have no idea about reviews, that it must be a complicated thing to do, but believe me, it isn’t. Amazon make it really simple. Just find the book on Amazon and scroll down to where you will find other reviews (or not, as the case may be) and type in your comment. You don’t have to say much either, one simple sentence and the amount of stars of your choice and that’s all there is to it. Then you can go about your day, knowing you have just put a smile on an author’s face.

So far, I haven’t had much to smile about today, so how about it?

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Shallow Waters…

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When catching a killer isn’t enough…
The naked, battered body of an unidentified teenager is found dumped in an alleyway and post-mortem finds evidence of a harrowing series of events.
Another teenage death with the same MO pushes DI Hannah Robbins and her team in the Nottingham City division Major Crimes Unit, to their limits, and across county borders. In a race against the clock, they attempt to unpick a thick web of lies and deceit to uncover the truth behind the deaths.
But it doesn’t stop there.
Just how far are the team willing to push themselves to save the next girl?

 

Shallow Waters is a crime thriller, one of my favourite genres. The blurb on Amazon had the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention, so I knew I had to read it.

The story opens with the discovery of the naked body of a woman, and DI Hannah Robbins and her team are going through the preliminaries. The body was found dumped in an alley, and it was interesting to watch the team gradually come together to gather all the information, from the initial findings and through to the post mortem. These usually revealed far more about the victim.

Along with the details of the murder, we are introduced to the rest of the members of the cast and their secrets and the level of detail was astounding.

The storyline for Sally, the police officer, was interesting in that she decides to keep so many secrets from her husband and the people she works with, a mistake that will cost her dearly. It can’t be easy to do the right thing, especially when your heart disagrees with your head.

The author is a master of character description, using a few well-chosen words to show glimpses of their inner fears. Their vulnerabilities made the cast real, far too real in some instances.

The fact that the author is a retired detective has lent a strong authenticity to the storyline, and as a crime writer myself, I really liked this story, despite the sad ending. Just enough drama and more than enough tension kept me reading way past my bedtime.

I would recommend this book to anyone who loves this genre…


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The Last Life…#Free on Amazon!

LLsss

From today, 19th April to 25th, the second book of Jaye’s trilogy is #Free on Amazon.   This is a brilliant book, well worth a read!

 Amazon Link:  https://www.amazon.com/Last-Life-Introducing-detective-Thriller-ebook/dp/B017DNXBXE/

Book description

Kate Devereau wakes up in a hospital, unable to speak or move. Her brain has shut down, refusing to acknowledge her dark and disturbing past, concealing a web of painful secrets.

Michael Barratt brought her to the hospital, insisting that her ex-husband had tried to kill her. And from the state of him, had tried to kill him too. He had been searching for Kate for years, ever since their doomed love affair, only to discover someone else had been hunting her too.

With the help of the DI David Snow, Kate will gradually piece her life back together, only to discover the nightmare is far from over.

Her first instinct is to run, but David Snow convinces her to stay and help him put an end to the nightmare. A nightmare that will get progressively worse before it gets better.

Haunted by his own demons, will the Snowman manage to catch the twisted killer?

Evil lurks in this story and people die, but amidst the tears and heartache, a lost love struggles to survive…

Book Excerpt

Kate sat at the table in the Vestry with her head in her hands. She couldn’t believe Jack had found her again, in spite of all the Snowman’s security. She kept seeing the ivory roses, Michael’s blood dripping from the petals, laid on the altar like an offering. Only Jack could have thought of something that macabre. The blood reminded her of what had happened to her beloved Dylan, her silver tabby. Jack had ripped him apart in her kitchen, strewing blood and fur all over the floor for her to find. At least this time, she wouldn’t have to clean up the mess.

Why had Michael gone outside?

She knew he was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that their relationship was over. After all this time it must have been a bitter pill to swallow. But going against David Snow’s specific orders was foolish and irresponsible. Maybe his depression had grown bad enough to warrant taking such a risk. Or had he wanted to die?

The voice in her head disapproved. ‘I did ask you to try and be kind to Michael, Kate. Even though you couldn’t love him, you, of all people, should have treated him better than that…’

It was true; she could remember feeling that bad. Jack had that effect on most people. Just knowing he was out there somewhere had made her suicidal in the past, and the feeling wasn’t too far away at the moment.

The Snowman should have let her see Michael, her imagination couldn’t be worse than the real thing. Right then, it didn’t seem real, and she kept expecting to see him come through the door at any minute. She wished with all her heart that she had run away the first time she suspected Jack was back on the scene. Michael’s sudden reappearance had reawakened all her old desires and dreams, rendering her incapable of thinking straight.

Fate was too cruel. Why had it conspired to bring Jack back into her life at that particular time? If he hadn’t arrived when he did, her brother would not have died, and the chain of destruction would have broken. She wanted to run away but suspected there was no point. Jack would find her wherever she went. The knowledge sunk in that none of them were safe anymore if they ever were. What would it take to be rid of Jack for good?

Kate heard the door open but realised the noise had come from the wrong side of the room. As she raised her head to investigate, a damp, sweet-smelling cloth covered her face. She struggled against it, but he was too strong. The room went dark and then faded away.

When Kate opened her eyes again several hours later, she was lying on a bed in what looked like a bedroom. It seemed familiar somehow as if she had been there before. Her memories stirred, and she began to recognise the bare walls and drab carpet, the austerity and soulless quality. It was or had been her son’s bedroom, the sad little room he had died in. On that morning, so long ago now, she had come to wake him for school. She found him lying on a pillow stained with vomit, and his skin felt cold. Too cold, she thought, pulling him into her arms to warm him. When she realised her son was dead, her hatred for Jack Holland finally overflowed, and she ran screaming from the house.  The house Jack had bought for her, where her dreams had died along with her son. How cruel to bring her back here, to remind her of everything he had done to her.

 


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Good, Bad, or indifferent?

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What is the most important achievement in an author’s life?

I can think of many thinks that are equally important, like

Completing a novel

Seeing your book in print

Being published, either traditionally or self

These are all important of course, but the one I’m thinking about is receiving good reviews for your work.

But apparently, according to Tara Sparling, there are better reviews we could get. Reviews that could sell more books than any of those 5-star reviews.

These are the bad reviews.

You may have heard the expression, “there is no such thing as bad publicity” and history has proved this to be true. The minute someone says how much they hated something, people immediately want to see for themselves.

Think of all the books that have been banned. People will break their necks to get a copy. Some of the best-selling books in the world started out by being banned.

Bad reviews actually contain more useful information for prospective readers, like…

“I didn’t like the main character, he didn’t have to be so mean…”

“this book is so depressing. Don’t read it unless you want to end up being miserable…”

“I hated the ending. Can’t understand why the author did that…”

“Too much violence/sex/ swearing in this book for me…”

So, I want someone to give one of our books a bad review, just to prove this theory…

Any takers?        (#Free copies available on request)