This week, I have found myself paying more attention to all the work my sister, Jaye Marie does, not just for her own work, but mine as well. We do share a website, but I don’t think I have fully appreciated how much work is involved with all this marketing and promotion.

She says it’s not really work, as she enjoys doing it so much, but I was still staggered to discover just what she does every single day, and still finds the time to write, garden and all the other jobs she gets around to.

Jaye Marie, my very own editor-in-chief, without her expert help, none of my five (soon to be six) books would ever have been published, for I couldn’t do what she manages to achieve, if my life depended upon it.

Here follows an excerpt from her first mystery/thriller, The Ninth Life…

The daylight was beginning to fade, although Jack hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t aware of anything, locked in his own private world of pain and anger. Not even the pain from his fingers as he chewed them unmercifully in his frustration.
Darkness was gathering in pools all around him as he sat at the kitchen table, Kate’s carton of cigarettes in front of him. He wasn’t seeing them anymore, her face occupied his mind again and no matter how he tried to distort her image with every ounce of hatred he possessed, he failed miserably as usual.
He had never understood the power she had over him, the way just looking at her made him feel unworthy. Kate was not beautiful in the classic sense, her nose was a little too big, her mouth lopsided, but a light seemed to glow inside her and the more you looked the more you were compelled to.
If he didn’t know any better, he would describe the aura that emanated from her as saint like, for he could almost hear the soft chords of a church organ and in her presence he felt touched by something divine.
Anger sparked and flared again as he remembered the day she had vanished, throwing his love away and all he had given her. He reached out and grasped the box in front of him, gripping it so hard his fingers shook and began to bleed. She probably thought she had succeeded, even now.
He relaxed his grip and slowly stroked the packet, spreading a smear of blood and imagining her fingers touching the paper, fingers that should be touching him.
White-hot anger seared through his brain and he ripped the carton open, destroying the contents in a frenzied rage that seemed unending.

Sometime later, when the rage had abated, he stared at the rubbish in front of him. Of all the things to steal from her, he thought, why these? Because he knew she would miss them the most. She always seemed to need a cigarette much more than him and that had always infuriated him and driven him mad…

There will be a Kindle Countdown Deal on Amazon, from 19th May to 25th May, when The Ninth Life will be FREE for a week.
Your support would be amazing, and gratefully received!

Save