The bishop attempted to call for peace but he was shouted down. Dee once again tried to persuade Miss Marriott to return home. Sylvia was nowhere to be seen; it seemed likely that by this time she was much farther ahead.

A scream rang out—and finally people began to realise the scale of the problem, and at last began to back away to the safety of the lane. The fire had taken a firm hold and was snatching with greedy licks at the dry grasses, weeds and fallen branches.

With lightning speed, it was conquering the churchyard. Behind them, at the village end of the churchyard, police officers began to appear, running forward, waving truncheons haphazardly, and Dee grabbed Miss Marriott firmly by the arm.

In this scene my heroine and amateur detective Dee Gascoigne is trying to teach a few words of French to a rather well-to-do lady, Meredith Prescott so that she can greet her guests in their own language.

You know, get things off to a good start. Dee said nothing. But after a moment, Meredith said,. Go on, try me. Just think of it as a way of saying hello. Meredith was immediately sulkier than a whole class of fourteen-year-olds.

Yet it had been her idea, after all. Watch my lips as I say it and try to copy the sound. The J is a softer j than we usually use in English. Think of the sound of the second g in garage, or the g in the word menage, also a French word. More of a Bonjour. It was too ridiculous that Meredith already looked cross and bored.

Bon soir. Think of how you say the word Soirée, another French word. It was all Dee could do not to roll her eyes. She decided to make one last sally before giving up entirely.

I will not be badgered in this way. I thought you knew how to teach? Why was everyone so interested in her love-life? Perhaps she had nagged him the way she nagged her guests. Dee thought she may as well admit it.

It seemed likely, certain even, that there would be further questions later. But now, with the room packed and a number of people standing at the sides and at the back, the woman at the front stood neatly to attention at the table and rapped on the wooden surface with a teaspoon from the cup and saucer in front of her.

Welcome to this open meeting to discuss the proposal to move the graves from the existing burial site to a new position at the north end of the village. I am Cynthia Miles-Hudson, head of planning at Northeast Essex council. A Wreath of Lilies eBook version pre-order.

It will be called A Wreath Of Lilies — you may well have seen me banging on about it already. This will be the second book of my new-ish s series featuring Dee Gascoigne as a private detective.

A message from beyond the grave seems to indicate that a grave has been forgotten. Dee Gascoigne was the only person in the train carriage. She had a newspaper in case she got bored, as it was a long, slow journey to Hartwell Priory, a village close to the North Essex coast. Next to the brand new copy of A Caribbean Mystery was the envelope Monty had given her.

She had better not lose it. She used the word in her mind, and it thrilled her to the core — she was actually on a case. In addition to these she had a letter of introduction and a handful of business cards so that she could be confident in the face of any challenge to her — call it what it was — nosy questioning.

It had been practically six months since she had left — or been asked to leave — her job as a modern languages teacher at a very nice school for very nice young ladies. Since then she had found herself at a loss over what to do with her life.

Then, in the Spring, she had been sent off to the seaside to convalesce after an illness and had stumbled into a murder mystery exactly like those she so dearly loved to read.

Here she glanced with fond anticipation at the little bit of the cover of A Caribbean Mystery that she could see nestling in the top of her open bag. She had helped her dratted sort-of cousin, Inspector Bill Hardy, to clear up the mystery, risking her own life and limb to do so, but was the man grateful?

Not at all. He had a bloody cheek, Dee fumed to herself. Anyway… Where was she? She had lost herself in the midst of feeling angry with Bill. She had been out of work for some months now. Yet what else could a recently separated woman do? People were so sniffy about the idea of a woman leaving her husband.

It was this scandalous action on her part that had cost her the job in the first place. And then, seemingly from nowhere, when all hope was lost and the money she had borrowed from her parents was dwindling to a pitifully tiny amount, dear, dear Monty had asked her brother Rob to get her to come and see him.

She had been all ears. Could he really be serious? She held her breath waiting to see what he said. Not that she could type, not really. Her pride — that thing that goeth before a fall — was now in tatters. To carry out research, or to go to speak to people, that sort of thing.

But the fellow I have been using for the last two or three years has — er — shall we say — found it advantageous to his health to quickly move to South America. Therefore I now have a vacancy.

I know your inquiring mind, nosiness, Dee told herself and that you are an intelligent woman. Resourceful too, crafty, Dee amended and I know that I need have no doubts whatsoever about your moral integrity.

She was on the point of speaking, but he held up a hand to halt her. In any case, I need someone right now, and if I may be blunt for a moment, you need the money. Can I persuade you to give it a try? What do you say? She knew it was a tiny place, barely more than a halfway point between the busy port of Harwich and the city of Colchester in the county of Essex.

She was to find her way to a guesthouse and rent herself a room for the week. Monty seemed to think it could take her several days, perhaps a whole week, to find out the things he needed to know.

She had money for her expenses, and the promise of ten pounds in wages, whether she was successful or not. Oh, she prayed she would be. The last thing she wanted was to let Monty down after his kindness.

The guard peered at her through the window of the connecting door to the next carriage. The business cards Monty had so clearly had printed before he even knew what she would say, stated simply: Miss Diana Gascoigne, Associate, Montague Montague of London, legal services.

And the letter of introduction, was exactly that, short, to the point, impossible to quibble with or gainsay:. I confirm that Miss Diana Gascoigne is an associate of this company, Montague Montague of London, legal services, and that she is employed by myself and under my instructions.

The connecting door opened. Dee glanced up. The guard, a young man in his twenties, said,. He blushed and left, and Dee closed her handbag with a snap, got up, grabbed her raincoat and hat, and hefted her case down off the luggage net and began to make her way to the corridor.

The train slowed and the long narrow platform appeared beneath the window. So are you hooked? Book 8 of the Dottie Manderson mysteries: hitting virtual shelves near you in December Sir Nigel always ensured that Lady Matilda Cosgrove — one of his oldest and dearest friends — had the Ormulu Room whenever she came to stay.

Very few of the other guests would feel comfortable surrounded by so much ornate, gilded wood coupled with a rather dark marble. Lady Matilda liked the room. As far as Sir Nigel could tell, she was the only person in existence who did like the room.

It was a quarter to seven on a Saturday evening in June when Lady Matilda sat at the vast gold and dark brown dressing-table and allowed her maid to dress her hair in what they both deemed to be the most becoming fashion for a lady in her late sixties.

They were deep in conversation about which gown Lady Matilda had worn to a certain affair in the Spring of , when there came a tap on the door. The door opened. A timid little red-headed maid stood on the threshold looking extremely nervous.

She accompanied this information with a kind of bobbing curtsey, all the while nervously wringing her hands. Lady Matilda thought she was rather a sweet little thing. Salt, give the child the case.

Salt extracted several glittering items of great value. Good evening. The door closed behind her, and Salt and Lady Matilda resumed their discussion relating to the precise colour and fabric of the gown worn on the evening of the Royal Gala over forty years earlier.

It was not long before the bell rang for dinner, and Lady Matilda descended the grand staircase to meet the other guests for a pre-dinner aperitif. Sir Nigel greeted her with a beaming smile, taking both her hands in his and kissing first her left cheek then her right in his usual warm manner that Lady Matilda found delightfully Continental.

She lost no time in thanking him again for his invitation to stay for the weekend whilst George was overseas on his usual ambassadorial duties. These robberies are such a worry. He stared at her for a second or two too long, and she immediately divined that something was amiss.

But before she could quiz him about it, the door was flung open and Salt ran in, tears streaming down her face, causing everyone to turn and stare, drinks halted halfway to their mouths. And indeed she had. She had practically run down the back stairs with the jewellery case in her arms, knowing she had only a minute or two to make her escape.

The side door was still ajar, and unseen by anyone, she slipped outside, pulling off her cap and apron and throwing them onto the grass, then she hopped into the waiting car at the end of the drive. DI Hunter Wilson never has just one problem to solve. Three elderly women he knows have died in mysterious circumstances.

Hunter appears to be the only link. When his team discovers cocaine hidden at the farm where she was living, the search becomes even more urgent. Why did the women die? And what did the child witness?

Hunter must find the answers to these questions to ensure his family and his city are safe. Val Penny has an Llb degree from the University of Edinburgh and her MSc from Napier University.

She has had many jobs including hairdresser, waitress, banker, azalea farmer and lecturer but has not yet achieved either of her childhood dreams of being a ballerina or owning a candy store. Until those dreams come true, she has turned her hand to writing poetry, short stories, nonfiction books, and novels.

Her novels are published by SpellBound Books Ltd. Val is an American author living in SW Scotland. She has two adult daughters of whom she is justly proud and lives with her husband and their cat. His elderly aunt wanders out of a hospital, she is found suffering from shock and raving, full of odd stories of evil people hurting her on the hospital ward.

Meanwhile a group of friends get together for a weekend house party and amid tensions between the different guests, end up searching for a missing five-year-old. More than one person has a secret, and there is a claustrophobic sense of each of them watching one another.

why is the new owner of the company so particular about his vans? SOCIAL MEDIA LINK — You can find Val Penny on these social media platforms:.

Author Facebook Page. Author Instagram Page. You can read previous reviews here and here. My handsome grey Cat stayed up in the cockpit while I got the motor going, but tortoiseshell Kitten headed below to sit in her box and wash the sand from her white paws. I glanced down at her, lifevest glowing pink against her ginger-allspice-cinnamon fur.

Marsali Taylor grew up near Edinburgh, and came to Shetland as a newly-qualified teacher. Days before the final Shetland fire festival, in broad daylight, a glamorous young singer tumbles down a flight of steps.

Though it seems a tragic accident, sailing sleuth Cass Lynch, a witness at the scene, thought it looked like Chloe sleepwalked to her death. A web of tensions between the victim and those who knew her confirm that something more deadly than black magic is at work.

But proving what, or who, could be lethal — and until the mystery is solved, innocent people will remain in terrible danger…. There is a lot to lose if the case is not solved. And there is the unique culture: music, spiritual beliefs, superstitions, history and of course, the language.

There were a few unfamiliar terms, so I was so grateful for the dictionary at the back of the book bookmark, everyone, for ease of consultation! The murder is a seemingly straightforward one, a simple crime, maliciously planned, and with a number of viable suspects.

As always, Cass cannot help but get involved, even though there is an official police investigation, because after all, she was there when it happened, and tried valiantly to resuscitate the victim.

And as ever, it was fantastic to read about Gavin swirling about the place in his kilt—of course! My thanks to Lynne Adams, Headline Accent Press and Marsali Taylor for the chance to read this fab new book. I went from one tack to the other, enjoying her, then sat with my feet up on the opposite seat, my familiar tiller snug in my hand, and the white sails stretched above me.

Book 8 of the Dottie Manderson mysteries finds Dottie fed up with waiting and all the fuss, and just wanting to get on with being Mrs Detective Inspector William Hardy. How wonderful it will be to get away to a weekend house party and forget all the worries of organising a wedding!

Of course William, like all husbands-to-be everywhere has no interest whatsoever in the problems of the right kind of lace or the perfect place setting. Dottie Manderson was already fed up to the back teeth with parties. Admittedly, she thought, one expected parties in June.

And just lately life had been nothing but. Tennis parties, tea parties, afternoon dancing parties, mid-morning tea parties, dinner parties, drinks parties in the evening, it was endless.

And now, socialising in London was giving her a sense rather too much like continually stepping over graves—those of dead friends as well as dead relationships. Wherever she went, dragged along by her mother or her sister, or her mother and her sister, to various events in so many houses and gardens, she was continually running into people she either knew, or had heard of through other acquaintances.

This evening was a case in point. Dottie hid behind the same half-glass of white wine she had been clutching for almost two hours and looked about the room.

The woman had glanced at Dottie four times now, though only managing a polite smile the first time, every other occurrence accompanied by a bright hard stare. Dottie noted that the woman had lost a lot of weight, and her left hand held no rings.

And only ever interested in himself. Belatedly she wondered again who she was speaking to. His only interest in his life has always been himself. Too late Dottie recognised Christiana St John Milner, the widow of the Milner empire since her husband, the Honourable Sebastian Wilcott Milner had passed away under what Dottie had always regarded as odd circumstances during an avalanche when out skiing with friends in the Swiss Alps just—what—surely it was barely six months ago, Dottie thought, yet here was the young widow in a daring dress of figure-hugging gold lame, not a single sign of mourning about her.

Christiana, please. Dottie tried not to be offended. But still, it grated. Christiana looked mortified. Oh this is a terrible start to a friendship. Well, there are plenty of those amongst the so-called upper-crust And even the aristocracy, as we both know.

Dottie was astonished. Christiana was right. These four people were four people who Dottie would have practically gone to her grave believing to be financially stable, solvent. The paperback copy of the new book, To Melt A Frozen Heart, is already for sale in my bookshop. Naturally, you can unsubscribe at any time.

Just tap the button below to download Chapter One from To Melt A Frozen Heart now. Would you like a sneak peek into my new novel? The Novel Blurb When trust is betrayed by those closest to you, can love still find its way? Preorder Now. Get Your Paperback Copy Now. Read Chapter One Now.

Buy Direct from the author. Follow me on Instagram helenahalme. Love on the Island bumper boxset is n. Made some Runeberg cakes. Or my version of them an. I love London so much, especially because there ar. Load More Follow on Instagram.

Virtual book tours, magazine ads, blogger reviews, twitter campaigns, online giveaways, and book-launch parties are among the publicity options I so excited to tell you that my new book, Letting God Be Enough: Why Striving Keeps You Stuck and How Surrender Sets You Free launches on September 7th In 'Find Your People', Jennie Allen explores the epidemic of loneliness – a very real issue that has taken hold as many of us hide behind emotional walls

Free book sneak peeks - The full book is quotes with commentary. Read one every morning to wake up your entire life. It's Never too Late to Fall in Love with your Life is full of Virtual book tours, magazine ads, blogger reviews, twitter campaigns, online giveaways, and book-launch parties are among the publicity options I so excited to tell you that my new book, Letting God Be Enough: Why Striving Keeps You Stuck and How Surrender Sets You Free launches on September 7th In 'Find Your People', Jennie Allen explores the epidemic of loneliness – a very real issue that has taken hold as many of us hide behind emotional walls

Hi Janet. So sorry for the LONG delay in getting back to you. Thankfully, we can walk along, but together at the same time. Please keep being kind to yourself….

I am so looking forward to ordering this right away on release date. I cannot recommend the power of a journal and although sometimes I have to leave it as I can come across new raw emotions it is so worth it to write. HI Pauline. So sorry I just now saw your comment!

Thanks for sharing, and thank you for your encouragement and support. I hope you are doing well. Blessings to you…. Hi Kathy. Forgive me for taking so long to respond.

I just now read your comment. I hope you are doing well and are being kind to yourself. Yes, loss is sad. Each person is one of a kind — and our relationship with them is one of a kind. I hope you have good support around you.

We all need that. Get your free email series today. You can unsubscribe at any time. GRIEF: 9 Things I Wish I Had Known.

You will also be added to Gary's Insider Group allowing you to receive regular updates on healing from loss. To get this free ebook, all you have to do is tell Gary where to send it by entering your email below. You will also be added to Gary's Insider Group, allowing you to receive his weekly updates on healing from loss.

You'll know what he's writing currently and get first glimpses of new books. Enter your email in the form, and a free excerpt from Gary's Grief Walk book will be sent to your inbox. You will also be added to Gary's Insider Group allowing you to receive his weekly updates on healing from loss.

You'll know what he's writing currently, get first glimpses of new books, and be presented with opportunities to make a difference for other grieving hearts.

A sneak peek inside my upcoming book… by Gary Roe Decision-making , Emotional pain , Families and grief , Fear , Forgiveness , Grief and Loss , Grief recovery , Guilt , Loss of a Child , Loss of a friend , Loss of a parent , Loss of a sibling , loss of a spouse , loss of loved one , Purpose and meaning , Spiritual suffering 8 comments.

Here you go… WHAT GRIEVING THE WRITE WAY IS ALL ABOUT Your world has changed. Someone special is missing. How do you do this? What does this loss mean for you? Who are you now? MY PERSONAL HISTORY WITH WRITING AND GRIEF I experienced multiple, traumatic losses in early childhood.

The next day, I wrote another poem. A few days later, I penned another. I found myself emoting as I wrote. I cried. I paced and talked to myself. I yelled and screamed. WRITING AND THE GRIEF PROCESS Writing can play a massive part in the grief and healing process.

Writing steadies our hearts enough to express our emotions in a healthy and productive way. Writing gives us a safe place to express and process spiritual questions, doubts, and fears. This book is about helping you express your heart, mind, and soul. This book can help you honor your loved one as you grieve.

This book can help you take the next steps in your grief process, whatever they might be. WELCOME TO GRIEVING THE WRITE WAY So, welcome to the Grieving the Write Way Journal and Workbook. Take the next step. Read on…and write. What do you think? Can you use this book?

Do you know someone who might benefit from it? Janet L Utley on September 5, at pm. Gary Roe on January 17, at am. Pauline on September 5, at am. Thanks Gary! Kathy on September 4, at pm. Stephanie on September 4, at am. I am looking forward to this book release. Thank you!

Short bios of the authors accompanied their sample chapters along with information about how to follow them on social media. Distributing sneak peeks might be an effective way for an author to reach readers and spur their interest in his or her books.

But I would guess it is not a cheap way. Many of the authors who had sneak peeks at Barnes and Noble have won literary awards or seen their books make high-profile bestseller lists. They probably have more dollars to spend on book promotion than their lesser-known peers.

Accordingly, if possible, an author might want to print a few sneak peeks and see what kind of impact they have on sales before making a major investment in them.

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All Rights Reserved: Clay Cormany Developed by Woo Support. Powered by WordPress Security. You seem to have Javascript disabled. This website needs javascript in order to function properly! Sneak Peeks Give Authors New Tool for Promotion. Sneak Peeks Give Authors New Tool for Promotion By: claycormany in Books.

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