blog tour · pharmaceutical · series · thriller

Blog Tour – Corruption


by Elizabeth Ducie


Out of fear. Out of greed. Out of evil. Corruption springs from many roots.

Teenagers fall prey to a deadly new drug craze sweeping across Russia. Pharmaceuticals destined for Africa turn up on the backstreets of Moscow, St Petersburg and Vladivostok. Regulator Suzanne Jones and her sister, Charlie, fight to stop the pushers before more kids die.

But will their discoveries mean a friend goes to prison? And are they putting their loved ones in danger?

With old adversaries and surprising new allies, the Jones sisters face their toughest challenge to date. The heart-stopping final episode in the Suzanne Jones series of thrillers set in the sometimes murky world of international pharmaceuticals

Get your copy here:


Other E-retailers

About the author:

When Elizabeth Ducie had been working in the international pharmaceutical industry for nearly thirty years, she decided she’d like to take a break from technical writing—text books, articles and training modules—and write about some of her travel experiences instead.

She took some courses in Creative Writing and discovered to her surprise that she was happier, and more successful, writing fiction than memoirs or life-writing. In 2012, she gave up the day job, and started writing full-time.

She has published three novels, three collections of short stories and a series of manuals on business skills for writers.

Follow Elizabeth on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest & Instagram



For reviews, excerpts and author interviews, take a look at these amazing blogs too:

blog tour · book review · political · suspense · thought provoking · thriller

Blog Tour ‘n’ Book Review – A House Divided

A House Divided

by Rachel McLean

A House Divided

Jennifer Sinclair is many things: loyal government minister, loving wife and devoted mother.

But when a terror attack threatens her family, her world is turned upside down. When the government she has served targets her Muslim husband and sons, her loyalties are tested. And when her family is about to be torn apart, she must take drastic action to protect them.

A House Divided is a tense and timely thriller about political extremism and divided loyalties, and their impact on one woman.

Grab your copy here.

Seriously, you don’t want to miss it. It’s virtual reality in book form.

So topical.

So tense.

So frighteningly close to the truth.

Amazon UK

My review: 5/5 stars.

I absolutely devoured this book, it had me gripped from beginning to end.

From the start, Jennifer Sinclair has her hands full with a political career as the Prisons Minister as well as a busy Birmingham constituency to manage, and a family with two school-aged children. She is a politician with a conscience, with principles she believes in and will stand up for – even when it means not following the party line. When she recognises anti-Muslim sentiment growing, she is keen to prevent it from getting out of control.

A fall from grace sees her return to the back benches before returning to a junior role at the Home Office. Unfortunately, a terror attack in London, only increases her workload, and results in a surge of hate crimes against innocent Muslim families like her own. Her husband, Yusuf, knows too well the effects of extremism and while he wants to be supportive of his wife, he is torn between his community and a growing mistrust of the government.

When their eldest son’s name appears on a list of “people of interest” by virtue of connections he has recently made, Jennifer’s world spirals out of control.

Without giving anything away, this story ends by placing Jennifer in a most dangerous position, one which harks back to her earlier role as Prisons Minister.

This is a fast-paced political thriller with a human touch, showing how politics affects our lives in more ways than we ever realise. Set in the near-future, some two years from now, the issues raised here are so topical and increasingly tense, because they reflect many of the sensitive scenarios facing us right now.

This book reveals party politics in all its glory, confirming suspicions that many politicians put career before country. It is all just a touch too familiar, too uncomfortable and too raw. But, by golly, it makes for a fascinating read – if only it weren’t so close to the truth.

I cannot wait for book two – it’ll be a case of ‘drop everything, and do not disturb’ when I get to jump right back into Jennifer’s story.

Well done, Rachel McLean, you’re definitely on my list of ‘books-to-one-click’ from here on.

Author Bio

I’m Rachel McLean and I write thrillers and speculative fiction.

I’m told that the world wants upbeat, cheerful stories – well, I’m sorry but I can’t help. My stories have an uncanny habit of predicting future events (and not the good ones). They’re inspired by my work at the Environment Agency and the Labour Party and explore issues like climate change, Islamophobia, the refugee crisis and sexism in high places. All with a focus on how these impact individual people and families.

You can find out more about my writing, get access to deals and exclusive stories or become part of my advance reader team by joining my book club at

Follow Rachel on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.

Find more reviews, excerpts and author interviews at these amazing blogs.

chick-lit · cover reveal · holidays · romance · romantic comedy · series

Cover Reveal – Snowed In at The Little Duck Pond Café

Snowed In at The Little Duck Pond Café

by Rosie Green


The biggest snowfall in years has blanketed Sunnybrook, cutting the village off from the outside world. For Fen, who finds herself snowed in at The Little Duck Pond Cafe, it’s little more than a minor inconvenience. Her love life is finally running smoothly; it looks as if she’s found the perfect man for her.

But then a shocking secret threatens to destroy Fen’s new-found happiness.

Will being snowed in be the final straw? Or will Fen find a way through the snowdrifts to the perfect love?

Pre-order Link –

Release Date: November 15th 2018

Book Four in the series

Author Bio

Rosie Green has been scribbling stories ever since she was little. Back then they were rip-roaring adventure tales with a young heroine in perilous danger of falling off a cliff or being tied up by ‘the baddies’.

Thankfully, Rosie has moved on somewhat, and now much prefers to write romantic comedies that melt your heart and make you smile, with really not much perilous danger involved at all, unless you count the heroine losing her heart in love.

​Rosie’s brand new series of novellas is centred on life in a village café. The first two stories in the series are: Spring at The Little Duck Pond Cafe and Summer at The Little Duck Pond Café.

Follow Rosie on Twitter .

contemporary fiction · cover reveal · emotions · relationships · women's fiction

Cover Reveal – Isolation Junction

Isolation Junction

by Jennifer Gilmour

Isolation Junction

Rose is the mother of two young children, and finds herself living a robotic life with an abusive and controlling husband. While she struggles to maintain a calm front for the sake of her children, inside Rose is dying and trapped in ‘Isolation Junction’.

She runs an online business from home, because Darren won’t let her work outside the house. Through this, she meets other mums and finds courage to attend networking events, while Darren is at work, to promote her business.

It’s at one of these events that Rose meets Tim, a sympathetic, dark-haired stranger who unwittingly becomes an important part of her survival.

After years of emotional abuse, of doubting her future and losing all self-confidence, Rose takes a stand. Finding herself distraught, alone and helpless, Rose wonders how she’ll ever escape with her sanity and her children. With 100 reasons to leave and 1,000 reasons she can’t, will she be able to do it?

Will Tim help her? Will Rose find peace and the happiness she deserves? Can Rose break free from this spiralling life she so desperately wants to change?

Pre-order Links:

Amazon UK 

Amazon US  

This  new edition of Isolation Junction publishes on 22nd October, and Jennifer Gilmour would love to invite you to the online launch party on Facebook 

Author Bio

Born in the North East, I am a young, married mum with three children. I assist in running a family business from my home-base and I have a large readership of other young mums in business for my blog posts.

From an early age I have had a passion for writing and have been gathering ideas and plot lines from my teenage years. A passionate advocate for women in abusive relationships, I have amalgamated and fictionalised other survivors experiences alongside my own to write my first novel detailing the journey of a young woman from the despair of an emotionally abusive and unhappy marriage to develop the confidence to challenge and change her life and to love again. I hope that in reading my debut novel, I will raise awareness of this often hidden and unseen behaviour and empower women in abusive relationships to seek help for themselves and find the confidence to change their lives.

Amazon Author link: 

My online store: 






blog tour · book review · romance · time travel · women's fiction

Blog Tour ‘n’ Book Review – Reflected Destinies

Reflected Destinies

by Florence Keeling

Reflected Destinies

Laura is happy and content, she has a new boyfriend and loves her job teaching primary school pupils in London.  But when she inherits a rundown house from a stranger on her 30th birthday, memories of her prom night come flooding back, memories of a scary encounter and an antique mirror in the very same house.

Laura visits the house with all its secrets and as she unravels the clues she reveals the biggest secret of all: her own destiny.  But how can you change the future if it’s already written in the past?

Get your copy here

My review

As Florence Keeling’s debut novel, this book has firmly positioned her on my list of authors to follow. I absolutely loved it, especially as a fellow Midlander I know Coventry and the area pretty well. Add that to the fact that I can’t resist a WWII story, and this just had me hooked from the beginning.

As a curious 16yo, Laura and two girlfriends sneak in to an old abandoned house on the night of their school prom. It was to be the last night the three would be together, and they wanted to see if the rumours were true about the house being haunted before they parted ways.

With her two friends bottling it, Laura headed upstairs where a large object is covered by a sheet. She removes the sheet to find a beautiful mirror, in the reflection she sees an old man behind her with a photo of her in the prom dress. Spooked, she runs off and moves away, putting the memory out of her mind.

Until she receives an extraordinary gift on the 30th birthday – the deeds to that very house back in Coventry.

With the memory of that night now vivid once more, Laura reckons the best thing to do would be to restore the house and sell it. She could never live there herself.

Back in the upstairs room, the mirror is still there. But she soon discovers it is not just any old mirror. In fact, it is the portal to the past that unlocks the secret of that old man, explaining why he had that photo of her and … so much more.

As I said at the beginning, I totally loved this story, and read it quite quickly, always wanting to know what would happen next. “Travelling” from the modern-day to 1940s Coventry, Laura gets to experience an air raid when she meets the man, Ben, who owned the house in those days. He, too, “travels” to the future, and is incredibly sweet when he first sees her switch on the lights, or use the microwave, and his first encounter with the Internet was too adorable and funny.

The author has created a cast of wonderful characters, spread over time, with typical traits of their time. There is plenty of tension that kept me gripped, as Laura wonders how they can continue to get to know each other as time marches on in both eras.

The ending is unexpected, and so sad, but to be anything other than it is would be disrespectful to the story and its wonderful characters.

An absorbing story that will have you engrossed and begging for more. I look forward to more from this talented author.

About the author

Florence Keeling adopted for her pen-name her Great Grandmother’s name, chosen because of the shared birthday of April Fool’s Day.  She is married with two teenage children.  Born and raised in Coventry, England she now lives just outside in Nuneaton.  Reflected Destinies is her first novel.

Florence Keeling also writes for children under the name of Lily Mae Walters.

Catch up with the author on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram

Read more reviews, author interviews and excerpts at these amazing blogs.


anthology · cover reveal · horror · steampunk

Book Trailer Reveal- Dead Steam


I am so happy to share this really cool book with you and reveal its amazing trailer! If you like the cover, wait to you see this! There is also a chance to win a digital copy of Dead Steam, so make sure to enter the giveaway at the bottom!

DeadSteam_Ebook.jpgDead Steam: A Chilling Collection of Dreadpunk Tales of the Dark and Supernatural

Expected Publication Date: October 1st, 2018

Genre: Anthology/ Dreadpunk/ Dark Steampunk/ Horror

Reader beware: to open this tome is to invite dread into your heart. Every page you turn will bring you closer to something wicked. And when the dead begin to rise from the steaming pits of hell, only then will you discover that it is already too late. Your life is forfeit.

Featuring an introduction by Leanna Renee Hieber, author of the Eterna Files and Strangely Beautiful saga, DeadSteam plays host to the scintillating writing of David Lee Summers (Owl Dance, The Brazen Shark), Jen Ponce (The Bazaar, Demon’s Cradle), Wendy Nikel (The Continuum), Karen J Carlisle (The Adventures of Viola Stewart), Jonah Buck (Carrion Safari), and more…

With seventeen chilling tales of Dreadpunk, Gaslamp, and Dark Steampunk, DeadSteam will leave you tearing at the pages, desperate for more. For within these pages, the dead rise from their graves to haunt the London Underground, witches whisper their incantations to the wind, a sisterhood of bitten necks hunts fog-drenched alleyways lit only by gaslight, and only one thing is certain: that dread will follow you until you turn that final page.

And that sinking feeling in the pit of your chest? That fear that something is following you, watching you, hunting you? It is not for nothing. Look over your shoulder, dear reader. Watch behind you. Listen to the whispers in the darkness.

But know this…it is all inevitable.

Add to Goodreads

Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Booktopia

Amazon (Hardback) | Amazon (Paperback & Kindle)| Nook & Paperback



Burke Street Station

The city was frost and fog. Icy crystals formed on the windows of the train station. Breath drifted up in a hazy clouds like puffs of cigarette smoke as Theodore tried to warm his hands, blowing hot breath onto his stiff, cold fingers and rubbing his hands together vigorously. When that failed, he thrust them back into his coat pockets, cursing under his breath. His threadbare coat offered little warmth. Drafts of wind found their way through the broken stitching and the tears in his sleeves like rats scrambling through the cracks in the station walls. A discarded page of newsprint, caught in the rushing wind, tumbled and turned in the air and landed, crumpled and torn, at Theodore’s feet.

He stooped over, picked it up, and glanced at the engraving of a wanted man. Even without a skill for reading, he knew what name was printed beneath the picture of masked man on the page. Anthony Tidkins.

Wanted, he read. That was one word Theodore recognized. Crimes was another, and then, finally…murder.

Rubbish. The newspapers always tried to make villains out of the radical thinkers of the world. The Resurrectionists, who named their organization after the sack-em-up men who provided the anatomists with subjects for their scientific endeavors, were scientists. They had provided the world with aether, revolutionizing air travel. They had brought Prince Charles back from the brink of death. They had devised the engines for the London Underground. Anthony Tidkins himself promised to cure death. Yet the newspaper men still called for his blood. Theodore balled up the page and shoved it in his pocket.

He pulled out his trick coin as he approached the gate. The station master was asleep at his booth, a little dribble of spit running down his chin. Typical. Thoedore stuck his coin in the machine, waited for the gate to open, and then, with a light tug on the fishing line threaded through a little hole in the tip of the coin, it popped back out. Easy. He was in before anybody noticed what he had done. He pocketed the coin and started down the hallway.

Tap-tap, clack, tap-tap, clack, his shoes beat a rhythm on the stone steps. The sole of his left shoe was beginning to wear, and the heel of his shoe tapped against the heel of his foot as he walked. He puffed on his hands again, and peeked over his shoulder. No one was after him. He had done this trick a thousand times before. So why did he feel like there was someone watching him?

Clack, tap-tap, clack. Again, he glanced over his shoulder. The odd double-rhythm of his broken shoe was suddenly unnerving in the deserted station. Where were all the other passengers? Nice folks avoided this place like the plague, especially after midnight. The oil lamps that lit Burke Street Station were so routinely out of oil that he could hardly find his own feet in front of him, but still, Theodore expected to see other passengers. But where were the other vagrants? They should be sleeping in the dark corners of the hallway under blankets made of rags. And the boys from the blacking factory should be heading home from their long shifts, fingers stained black with powders and oil. But there was no one. Only the rats skittering through rat tunnels to keep him company.

Tap-tap, clack, tap-tap, clack.

Another set of footsteps began to follow his own, beating out a different rhythm. A steady tap, tap, tap, tap. He paused to listen, and nothing but silence greeted him. He glanced over his shoulder. Nobody there.

He continued onward, and again, a second set of footsteps started up behind him. He paused to listen. This time, they didn’t stop.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

Whoever it was, they were getting closer. Closer and closer, louder and louder, tapping out a steady rhythm as they approached down the long, dark hallway. He could almost make out the solitary figure in the gloomy, hazy light, but then the fog grew thicker, and whatever he thought he’d seen was gone. The footsteps kept on getting louder, though, and closer. He turned and ran down the hallway.

A long flight of steps delved deeper into the darkness of Burke Street Station, down, down toward the platform. The train was already rumbling, announcing its approach. It vibrated through Theodore’s toes to the tip of his spine, rattling his bones.

He grabbed the railing all but flew down the staircase. The rumble of the train grew louder and clearer.

“Shit,” Theodore cursed. Taking the steps two at a time, he hurtled down the steps and didn’t stop when he reached the bottom.

Nails on a blackboard. The tines of silverware scraping against a ceramic plate. The screaming madmen at Newgate Asylum. The anguished cry of a mother weeping over her stillborn babe. Theodore had heard these sounds all, but not one compared to the shrill screech of an automatic train rolling into Burke Street. Iron wheels grinding against iron tracks. Hot metal sending up sparks, belching out steam as black as sin. The carriages rattling and clanging against one another. The hiss of hot coal burning in the engines. The shriek of brakes as the train ground to a halt. If it went on long enough, it would surely drive a man mad. Theodore covered his ears with his hands, pressing them against his head to muffle out the deafening noise, and waited for the thundering train to come to a halt.

When it did, he realized it must have drowned out the sound of the steadily approaching footsteps he’d heard in the hallway, because he could hear them again, and they were closer. So close he half expected to feel someone’s hot breath on his neck. He whirled around, but there was no one there. Silence greeted him like an old friend. His heart hammered against his chest.

“There’s no one there,” he muttered to himself. But he didn’t sound convinced.

A smell lingered in the air, as if something foul had passed through. The smell was familiar enough, the breath of a man with rotting teeth. It was a foul, cloying stench. He spun around again, and this time found himself face to face with the man to whom those dreaded footsteps belonged.

Only he wasn’t a man. Not really.

About the Author

Bryce Raffle.png

Bryce Raffle writes steampunk, horror, and fantasy. He was the lead writer for Ironclad Games’ multiplayer online game Sins of A Dark Age and is the founder of Grimmer & Grimmer Books. His short stories have appeared in numerous anthologies, including Hideous Progeny: Classic Horror Goes Punk, Denizens of Steam and Den of Antiquity. His short story, The Complications of Avery Vane, was awarded Best Steampunk Short in the Preditors and Editors Reader’s Poll in 2016. He lives in beautiful Vancouver, Canada, where he works in the film industry.

Bryce Raffle| Facebook | Instagram| Goodreads | Twitter

Bryce is giving away a digital copy of Dead Steam to one lucky winner. The giveaway will run from Sept. 17th to Sept. 20th so make sure you enter!

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cover reveal · pre launch · preorder · thriller

Cover Reveal – The Stepsister

The Stepsister

by Jenny O’Brien

When a stranger leaves step-sisters, Victoria and Ness, a half-share in a house in Holland, they think it must be a mistake.

But there’s no mistake when Ness goes missing. 

Desperate for the truth, Victoria heads to Holland to find out what happened to her. Has she, as her texts show, embarked on a whirlwind romance? Has someone abducted her or even worse?

But there’s someone watching, and that person wants her dead. 

Can Victoria find out the truth before it’s too late? 

Pre-order on Amazon UK 



I died yesterday, or so I’ve been told.

Yesterday is the day my life changed but how or why is still a mystery. There are things I know and there are things that they’ve told me but I can’t seem to trust any of it.

I know I’m a woman but I don’t know my age. I know how to hold a cup in the same way I know it’s rude to stick the end of a knife in my mouth. So, somewhere along the way, someone cared enough to drill manners into me. Those are the things I know, the things I can trust but as for the rest…

They tell me I’m in Holland but can I believe them? I don’t remember if I’m Dutch but I also don’t remember if I’m not. I can’t speak Dutch. I’ve been trying all morning but can one lose a language overnight? I seem to have lost everything else. Who knows? Maybe I took the wrong train or something and just rolled up in the wrong city. That would make sense except that it’s not just my sense of place that’s missing. It’s my sense of everything. I have no name, no age and no identity. Yesterday I died and today I’m still here.


They’ve left me alone now while they try to puzzle out what to do and in the meantime I’m going to try to remember stuff. I don’t know how long they’ll leave me alone but I need to take this opportunity to come up with some answers to all the questions they’ve been throwing at me like who the hell I am.

Slipping out of bed I recoil as bare feet meets cold tiles, but that’s not going to stop me. Pulling the back of the hospital gown closed in an effort to retain some degree of dignity, I shuffle over to the bathroom and then the mirror only to stare into the face of a stranger.

It doesn’t matter what I look like or that I’m suffering from the worst case of bed-head known to man. It doesn’t matter that my eyes are green or that my hair is that shade of nondescript mouse that keeps colourists in business. The only thing that matters is my reflection, which holds no clues as to my identity. I’m a stranger to them. I’m a stranger to me.  

My body holds a clue though – just one.

I push up my sleeve again to stare at the tattoo on my arm. The tattoo puzzles me. It’s not me, or part of me or who I think I am and yet it’s there, a large indelible letter V.

I have no idea what it stands for. Oh, I’m not stupid or anything or, at least I don’t think I am. I can’t quote which exams I’ve passed or if indeed I’ve ever attended school but I do know V stands for victory. But what does it mean to me? Am I victorious? Am I making a statement about something? It must be important because it’s the only tattoo I have. It’s also the only clue.

I’m tired now. My eyelids collapse over my eyes even as I struggle to shift them upwards as I remember the cocktail the nurse told me to swallow like a good girl. I want everything to go away. I want to hide under the blankets and forget. I’ve already forgotten…

About the Author

Jenny O’Brien was born in Ireland and, after a brief sojourn in Wales, now re sides in Guernsey.

She’s an avid reader and book reviewer for NetGalley in addition to being a RoNA judge.

She writes for both children and adults with a new book coming out every six months or so. She’s also an avid collector of cats, broken laptops, dust and happy endings – two of which you’ll always find in her books.

In her spare time she can be found frowning at her wonky cakes and even wonkier breads. You’ll be pleased to note she won’t be entering Bake-Off. 

Follow Jenny on her blogFacebook or Twitter



blog tour · book review · British · chick-lit · fun

Blog Tour ‘n’ Book Review – The Oddest Little Beach Shop

The Oddest Little Series

by Beth Good

The Oddest Little Beach Shop

‘I love Beth Good’s quirky style!’ – bestselling author Katie Fforde

From the first day of Annie’s arrival in the sleepy Cornish resort of Polzel, next-door neighbour Gabriel seems determined to make her life difficult.

Despite his sexy looks and angelic name, Gabriel behaves like an ogre to everyone, and has apparently been that way since losing his wife in a surfing accident. Annie would do far better, her friend Claudia urges her, to focus her attentions on Jamie instead. Jamie’s the hottest lifeguard in the village – and her co-worker in the Polzel beach shop.

But when Polzel’s famous annual pie-rolling contest sees Annie and Gabriel forced together, it turns out Annie might have a thing for big Cornish ogres after all . . .

A feel-good summer novella from popular romantic comedy writer Beth Good and another quirky entry in her ‘Oddest Little Shop’ series.

Get your copy here

My review

From the moment Annie arrived in the Cornish village of Polzel with her nephew it was clear this story would be a fun read. Getting off on the wrong foot with her new neighbours seemed to be a habit, what with the farmer in the middle of the road blocking traffic with his sheep, and the irate driver getting road rage behind her. Annie’s first impression of the village was wonderful; however, the people would definitely take some getting used to.

Greeted by her friend, Claudia, she was thrown into village life, and she soon learnt that everyone knew her before she even opened her mouth to introduce herself.

Working at the beach shop, mastering the till and eyeing up Jamie, her co-worker and local lifeguard, Annie had more than enough on her plate without falling for his brother – the irate driver she’d met on her first day.

The story revolves around Annie settling in and trying to do her best by her nephew. The villagers are quirky, eccentric, and not people who take no for an answer. Subsequently, Annie ends up learning to surf with Jamie, and making arrangements for the annual pie-rolling contest with his brother, Gabriel – which is where their romance both begins and ends. Until an incident calls for Annie to rely on Gabriel’s help.

This is a funny, charming and fast-paced novella. The resort is a stunningly beautiful seaside town, and with it come all the pros and cons of tourist season.

The author has an easy writing style that is refreshingly down-to-earth and most entertaining. Packed with humour, outlandish characters and a sweet romance that eventually is allowed to sizzle, this is an ideal read for both the beach or a rainy afternoon when the summer sun has vanished.

This was my second book of the “Oddest” series, and I’m certainly going back for more.

About the author

Born and raised in Essex, England, Beth Good was whisked away to an island tax haven at the age of eleven to attend an exclusive public school and rub shoulders with the rich and famous. Sadly, she never became rich or famous herself, so had to settle for infamy as a writer of dubious novels. She writes under several different names, mainly to avoid confusing her readers – and herself! As Beth Good she writes romantic comedy and feel-good fiction. She also writes thrillers as Jane Holland, historicals as Victoria Lamb and Elizabeth Moss, and feel-good fiction as Hannah Coates.

Beth currently lives in the West Country where she spends a great deal of time thinking romantic thoughts while staring out of her window at sheep. (These two actions are unrelated.)

You can find her most days on Twitter as @BethGoodWriter where she occasionally indulges in pointless banter about chocolate making and the Great British Bake Off. Due to a basic inability to say no, she has too many children and not enough money, which means she needs as many readers as she can get.

You can follow Beth on Facebook and Twitter

For more reviews, excerpts and interviews, check out these amazing blogs.

blog tour · Bloggers · Giveaways · murder mystery · mystery · noir fiction

Blog Tour with Giveaway – Dark Paradise

Dark Paradise

by Gene Desrochers

Dark Paradise

Boise Montague’s life in Los Angeles has fallen apart. After his wife dies, he returns to the tiny island where he grew up. Unfortunately, coming home doesn’t bring him the peace he’s looking for.

Things have changed drastically since his last visit. The island has moved on and so have the people he once knew. When Boise tries to find the one friend he thinks he can count on to be there for him, he’s confronted with another death. A murder. A murder that the police did not think important enough to investigate thoroughly.

Boise wants answers. He enlists a local reporter named Dana, who has theories of her own, to help him dig deeper.

With not much left to lose, a bone to pick with the justice system, and a relentless partner, Boise sets out to do what the police would not: solve the murder of Jeffrey Black.

The island of St. Thomas is a gleaming tropical paradise. Welcome to the Caribbean, where murder is as common as sunshine.

Purchase Links


Barnes & Noble

The Secret Stash


This sounds so good … and to entice you a little more, here’s an excerpt

In this extract, Boise explains to his friend’s aunt who he is. Boise begins to piece together what happened to Roger.


“Were you the ones with all the cats?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.  

I nodded.

“Father hated your cats. Ever since, I’ve disliked cats too.”

“That’s too bad. They’re good bullshit detectors,” I said. “Would you mind telling me what you know about Roger?”

She scratched her head and let out a long, reluctant sigh. “He got into illegal dealing. Drugs. He got into it deeply and wholly. It took him to the grave. He died around Christmas two years ago.”  

My breath quickened as I felt a sharp pain run through my right arm like a moving needle. My thumb twitched. I put out my hand and found a chair in the corner. Roger dead? Impossible.

He’d never had any interest in that life. We played stickball, rode bikes near the baseball stadium, snuck into games on Saturday afternoons. The convenience store with its treasure trove of sugary goodies like Hubba-Bubba and ring pops, our only vices. Once, Roger washed blood out of my hair when an older boy pegged me with a rock in the head after a baseball game. I didn’t want my mother to know or she’d have whipped me. He washed it out and kept the secret.

The familiar feeling of home I’d experienced on the airport runway disappeared, leaving a gaping wound in my chest that fluttered with each breath. “Drugs?” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Iris got up, went to a water cooler. She handed me a tiny paper cup. It felt cool against my fingertips. “Drink this,” she said as she gently pushed my hand toward my lips. I tried but dribbled some of the water onto my shirt. The cold wetness startled me.

“I…did he try to get out of that life?” I said, hoping his soul cleansed itself before death.

“Don’t think so. He was deep in, like I said. He wanted to run things. He was not savage enough in his heart for that, but he wasn’t a good person either,” she said. “I hear he’s buried down by Frenchtown.”

Iris adjusted the waist of her flowered skirt then circled back around her desk. As she sat down, her face lit up. “Now I remember you! You gained some weight, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, patting my protruding gut. I was probably twenty-five pounds over ideal weight. Stress. “I got more buff, just in the wrong places.”

She laughed. “Nah, mi son, we all put it on over the years. You also have a nice chest.”

I waved good-bye on the compliment. The sun warmed the back of my neck as I stepped outside.

Roger and I hadn’t seen each other or spoken in seventeen years. Yet without him, St. Thomas was a foreign land. I pushed the hair away from the scar on the right side of my head where that boy had hit me with a rock after the ball game.

Jet lag notwithstanding, trudging around in the ninety-degree humidity felt freeing. I walked through Charlotte Amalie, past the whorehouse, right next to St. Peter and Paul Catholic Church on Dronningens Gade, also known as Main Street.

I entered the iron gates and whitewashed concrete walls of the cemetery. After thirty minutes, I found his tombstone. It read: “Roger Black, January 26, 1983-December 24, 2011.” While there, I visited my grandparents’ graves as well.


About the author:

Gene Desrochers hails from a dot in the Caribbean Sea called St. Thomas.

He grew up with minimal supervision and free-roaming animals in a guesthouse that also served as a hospital during wartime.

He has spent his life steadily migrating west, and now finds himself in Los Angeles with a beautiful wife, cats, and kids.

After a lifetime of writing and telling short stories, he ventured into the deep end, publishing his first novel, Dark Paradise in 2018.

If you ask, he will regale you with his Caribbean accent and tennis prowess.

You can follow Gene on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Medium and on his website.



But, wait … there’s more. 

Giveaway 1 – Win a $25 Amazon e-gift Card

Post your photo with your e-book or hard copy of Dark Paradise on social media and share on Gene’s Facebook  Instagram  or Twitter page and you’ll be entered in a drawing for a $25 Amazon Gift Card to be awarded on Monday, September 24th

Giveaway 2 – Win 2 x Paperbacks and 2 x E-copies of Dark Paradise (Open Internationally)

*Terms and Conditions –Worldwide entries welcome. The two paperbacks are only open to USA entries.  Please enter using the Rafflecopter link below.  The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then I reserve the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time I will delete the data.  I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.


Good Luck!

Check out these amazing blogs for more reviews and excerpts from Dark Paradise:

Thanks for reading 😉

blog tour · book review · contemporary fiction · romance · thriller

Blog Tour ‘n’ Book Review – ‘Just’


by Jenny Morton Potts

Just Tour Banner.jpg


Publication Date: June 14th, 2018

Genre: Romantic Thriller

On golden Mediterranean sands, maverick doctor Scott Langbrook falls recklessly in love with his team leader, Fiyori Maziq. If only that was the extent of his falling, but Scott descends into the hellish clutches of someone much more sinister.

‘Just’ is a story of love and loss, of terror and triumph. Set in idyllic Cambridge and on the shores of the Med and Cornwall, our characters fight for their very lives on land and at sea.

An unforgettable novel which goes to the heart of our catastrophic times, and seeks salvation.

Add to Goodreads

Available on Amazon UK and Amazon


Scott Langbrook is in love with Fiyori Maziq, his team leader at Reach (a health organisation in the Mediterranean). In this abridged scene, he declares himself. – Jenny Morton Potts

Scott bought a bag of khubzit howsh and followed Fiyori along the streets as they become narrower and the buildings changed from concrete to mud. The doctor walked very fast, her loose clothing pulled tightly across her chest, till she reached a dark alley and stood before an exquisitely painted door.

Scott called softly to Fiyori and she turned, the key not yet in the lock.

He walked up to her. “What an incredibly beautiful door. The craftsmanship is stunn—”

“You think I don’t notice someone following me? You think I’d last more than five minutes?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“What do you want?”

“I want…”

“You see this door, Langbrook? All the details, the intricate carving, the hand-mixed paint colours, the care? The sheet art of it?”

“Like I said, it’s incredible.”

“My friend made it. They saw how different it was, oh yeah. And they killed him for it. They dragged him along the streets to the Ahmi Sayeed Memorial. You know it?”

“Yes, I, it’s the one with the seahorse.”

“They kissed him, by the Memorial. They hugged my friend. They put their hands on his genitals. They laughed and told him they loved him. Then they sawed his head off. In broad daylight, cars going by, children walking home from school.”

“Oh my God, Dr Maziq. I’m sorry. I… really, I’m so sorry I followed you. I only wanted—”

“You wanted, you wanted, you wanted. To what? To fuck me?”

Scott took a deep breath. “I’ve made my apologies. Now I’ll say goodnight.”

Fiyori wrenched open the door. “Get in here, Langbrook.”

Inside there was just a bed with a crumpled white sheet on top and a rudimentary fireplace with a cast iron tripod. Beside that there was a pot on a trivet with an airline magazine covering the contents. Electric cable was gaffer taped to palm beams in the low ceiling. In the corner, there were a couple of small suitcases at various levels of packing or unpacking and an enormous wooden sideboard whose surface accommodated ablutions and food preparation.

“I’ve got cognac. Well, cooking brandy.” Fiyori switched on a light.


Scott found himself holding his breath as he watched her move around this dark, perfect, little hovel. Fiyori pulled her shirt off and wore nothing beneath. Scott’s lips were sticking together. Fiyori shook her dark hair around her shoulders. She poured water from a terracotta jug into a bowl and began soaping her body and splashing. Scott watched her intently and she showed no signs of objecting. Within seconds, she’d done enough and walked over to a suitcase and pulled out a white t-shirt to put on.

Fiyori poured brandy into two china cups. “I keep thinking I’m about to die.”

“Me too. Be strange to think anything else, round here.” Scott sat down next to her and took his cup.

Fiyori threw back her brandy and took off her socks. “Should I wash these?” She nodded at her feet.

Scott leaned towards her feet, taking a sniff. “There’s much worse feet than these. For instance.” He took off his own shoes and socks and wiggled his toes. As he watched her move her legs languidly on the bed, he was concerned that his erection would pop the buttons of his cargo pants.

“Listen, Langbrook, I’m quite tired and there is just an outside chance that I’ll fall asleep. Don’t take it personally. Condoms in the zippy bit of the suitcase. Could you? No, not that zip, one on the front pouch.”

“What’s this?” Scott held up – as if his opposable thumb and index finger were tweezers – a semi-automatic pistol.

“It’s known in common parlance as a gun.”

“You never got this through airport security.”


“So… you bought it here?”

“I’ve had it for a very long time, Langbrook. I have it posted to me, kind of. Shipped. Place to place. Not through a letterbox, you understand. What do you carry?”

“Me? I don’t carry anything. What sort is it?”

“It’s a point two two Beretta. Hopeless in a crowd, but ideal for something intimate, like a close range head shot. I should get something new, but we’ve been together for many years and it would be disloyal to replace her. You know?”

Scott knew nothing, nothing at all, he was well aware of that. He set the Beretta down in the case and backed away. Now then, where was he. Completely nude, he let her have a good, long look and said, “I will take it very personally, if you fall asleep.”

“God, but you are lovely, aren’t you. Can we do it really quickly please. I know that’s not something you’ll hear from women generally, but you and I know how short life is.”

“And what is expected of us tomorrow.”

He stood in front of her and she came to the edge of the bed, reaching out very slowly to caress him; so intricate, like she was blind, and doing the exact lingering opposite of what she’d just said.

“Do you think of me, Langbrook? Do you close your eyes in the shower? You don’t have to close them now. Look at me. Do you wait for the others to wash first, so that you can be alone? So that you can imagine this?” Fiyori ran her tongue along the ridge of vein on his hard cock, back and forth, her hands tenderly cupping his balls, until her mouth finally took him in. She looked up into his face and he gathered her hair in his fingers as she gripped his buttock in one hand. When he felt the mildest graze of her teeth, he came, and she held him gently then, finally returning his smile.

My Review: 

This is not a book to be pigeon-holed in any way, being quite hard to describe as it is made up of much than you realise as you read it. It’s a story that demands your attention; you daren’t skim for fear of missing a key morsel of info. Human trafficking, suicide bombers, corruption, blackmail and fraud are but a few topics within its pages, but somehow it all works as a whole.

Initially, it was hard to get into, confusing for much of the first half, switching between characters, places and timelines without any clues. Towards the end though, everything was revealed in a simple, straightforward manner. Admittedly, it was so unlike anything I had read before, but it certainly delivered in terms of being fascinating and thought-provoking.

Many of the characters were not easy to get to know, and nor were they the most likeable people either. Of the bunch, Mrs Langbrook (Mark 1) – aka Lucienne or Luci  – was the least endearing, yet it was through her cutting and pointed retorts that other characters, like Finlay & Susan, came to life. That being said, she came across as very real, with raw emotional wounds and the associated antagonistic grief that often accompanies such heartache. At times, I would scream at her, then she’d make me laugh.

The genius of this book was how I was led to believe certain characters were wholly altruistic, serving and caring for the vulnerable. By the end, it was clear that I knew very little about what drove some of them to act the way they did – it was a revelation, and riveting at that.

The issues I had with the first half of the book were quickly eradicated as the story evolved; only then was it clear how meticulously planned out this story had been, coming together to be something quite exceptional than its individual chapters and characters.

A book that requires focus, a story that touches upon some of the worst of humankind as well as the best. Beautifully crafted, for this was more than the written word, in spite of there being some wonderful phrasing and outstanding dialogue.

It’s an unconventional novel, certainly not a light read; it’s challenging – so stick with it – and ultimately worth the effort.

About the Author


Jenny is a novelist, screenplay writer, and playwright. After a series of ‘proper jobs’, she realized she was living someone else’s life and escaped to Gascony to make gîtes. Knee deep in cement and pregnant, Jenny was happy. Then autism and a distracted spine surgeon wiped out the order. Returned to wonderful England, to write her socks off.

Jenny would like to see the Northern Lights but worries that’s the best bit and should be saved till last. Very happily, and gratefully, settled with the family. She tries not to take herself too seriously.

Jenny Morton Potts | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Jenny is giving away 5 digital copies of Just in your preferred format, so be sure to enter the giveaway!

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