Will he choose Jenny or Henry? David Pipe succeeds triumphantly. He uses this literary device to great effect in a totally suitable way for adults. Henry makes for a good narrator, and he interacts in an entertaining and interesting way with a variety of fellow canines and humans, both pleasant and unpleasant.
He has some rather stressful adventures but takes it all in his stride, and the ending is definitely the one we want for him. This is a fun novel, but some serious issues are touched on, which just adds to its texture and persuasiveness. David Pipe was born in in a small Essex village. He attended a local grammar school then the University of Hull where he took a B. Sc in chemistry. He worked in the pharmaceutical industry in England and South Africa before studying for a PhD in organic chemistry at Imperial College. After spells at universities in Geneva and Mulhouse he joined the oil industry in Germany where, aged 53, he gratefully took a redundancy package.
He is married and lives in Hamburg with his wife and their Border terrier Henry. Twitter dfpwriter. Audrey, recently widowed, is not saying why she left her comfortable home in the south of England to move into an old school boarding house on the edge of a moor. Property developers, annoyed at losing a site ripe for demolition, make plans to encourage Audrey to sell. This is quite a chilling story which will grip you from the very beginning.
It centres on the old schoolhouse that our heroine Audrey has bought. But why exactly? And why are several other people particularly interested in the property? The action takes place in the mids and the present day, and we jump between the two time periods. The ominous Russian brothers are very well portrayed, and we meet plenty of other fascinating characters.
The house provides an atmospheric, definitely brooding setting for this highly intriguing tale. My career and life nearly ended there as I was knocked down by a car on the way home one Saturday night. I recovered and went on to be quite a successful photographic model. Later, when that part of my career did die, I turned to writing and made quite a good living writing screenplays, making films, and writing advertising copy for a marketing company.
A few years ago I entered a short-story competition and fell in love with prose and knew I had to tell my own story within a fictional framework. At the moment I am hiding behind a nom de plume. Social Media Links — RomolaFarr. A rookie cop, a dash of mysterious death, and a heap of suspicion — as the heat rises, lethal tensions boil over in the Pyrenees.
Against a background of prejudice, jealousy, and greed, Danielle pieces together the sparse clues of a fractured homicide. But will she find enough evidence to solve the case — and get the recognition she deserves? From an apparently straightforward opening, things become increasing complex. And the ending will take your breath away. An unliked and unlikeable Englishman falls to his death from a balcony in a quiet French tow.
Young policewoman Danielle is the first on the scene and this story is about her solving the crime. The book has a very immediate, happening feel to it due to the use of the present tense. Hi, my name is Elly Grant and I like to kill people. I use a variety of methods.
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As I live much of the year in a small French town in the Eastern Pyrenees, I get inspiration from the way of life and the colourful characters I come across. When I first arrived in this region I was lulled by the gentle pace of life, the friendliness of the people and the simple charm of the place. But dig below the surface and, like people and places the world over, the truth begins to emerge. Petty squabbles, prejudice, jealousy and greed are all there waiting to be discovered.
Oh, and what joy in that discovery. I people-watch as I sip my wine or when I go to buy my baguette. I discover quirkiness and quaintness around every corner. Perhaps you will visit my town one day. Perhaps you will hold my interest for a while, and maybe, just maybe, you will be my next victim. Alternatively read about life on some of the hardened streets of Glasgow or for something different try my other books and short stories. She meets a charismatic professor who nurtures her writing and suddenly her dreams seem possible.
When she realises she loves the married professor, her journey takes a wild turn.
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Can Flora actually succeed in becoming an author? What happens to the love Flora Air feels for the professor? This is a deceptively calm and measured novel. Flora appears to be a very self-contained, unflappable person living an unexciting but satisfying life. Enter the healing ghost, a clever, unusual yet fitting touch, and suddenly things become far from mundane.
Flora Air is a gentle, undemanding heroine whom we quickly get to know and admire. I love how Janice Cairns writes. She has a thoughtful, engaging style.
Think Anita Brookner, but with more zest. She marries a convincingly reality-based element with magic, and the two apparently incongruous components work like a charm together. In a good way! At first glance Nic is, well for lack of sentiment, an asshole.
But as time passes, you begin to understand. However, Sasha has his demons too. His past relationships have burned him and made him afraid to open up or show someone he needs them. Yet that he does. Besides, he desperately wants a family. Can they get beyond their fears and man up for each other? Sometimes a leap of faith for love may just be worth the painful fall when the perfect gift is right in front of you. Sasha Lindsey loves making a difference for people, especially for kids. He's forced to leave his teaching job after a bad break-up and must find work quickly.
His irresponsible parents often rely on him to pay their mortgage and he also has a car payment that he can't miss — he loves his truck and can't lose it. He really wishes that someone would take care of him for a change. Billionaire Nic Price needs help. He became guardian of his sister's kids when she and her husband died; he doesn't know anything about raising kids and he's had trouble keeping a nanny employed.
Sasha's qualifications for the job are great but the off-the-charts chemistry between Nic and Sasha might be a problem. This story has a lot of stuff going on in it but not in a bad way. Nic's parents are jerks who have unrealistic expectations of him. He's put his job as CEO of the family business ahead of everything, including being with his niece and nephew.
While he has seen to it that they are well cared for he's blind to the fact that they are acting out because they need his love and attention. This story had lots of feels and made me cry both happy and sad tears. When things go wrong because Nic is being stupid I loved the way that he tried to make things better with Sasha and that Sasha made him work for his forgiveness. Sean watched as the drunk hesitated. Unexpectedly challenged, he deflated like a balloon stabbed with a pin. The guy shrugged and walked off, banging his shoulder into Sean in a final show of defiance.
Sean let him have his second or two of triumph; he was gone and it was all that mattered. A soft and cultured voice drifted out from the shadowy corner. I appreciate it. Now that the drunk had gone, Sean gave the guy at the table his full attention. The guy nodded, fiddling with the mixer stick in his glass, stirring the ice and pushing down on what looked like a whole load of salad leaves. He turned back to the guy, and met his wry smile with one of his own.
As always. It really was time to make a move, but the guy had an air of vulnerability about him that, in a place like Blue, for all it was smart and swanky with prices to match was, when that was stripped away, just another meat market.
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Leaving the guy on his own would be like tethering a lamb to a post, and letting in the wolves. He glued his lips together, and nodded again. Change of plan. Just as always. Almost, but not quite. Sean moved forward, blocking the guy from reaching Laurie. Toby looked at Laurie, his brows raised in a silent question.
It all happened so quickly. His skin pinpricked with heat, and his body stiffened as it prepared for fight of flight. What the hell—? He pressed his clenched fists hard against his thighs. The tense silence that settled on them was broken by the buzz of a phone.
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Toby pulled out what Sean saw was the latest, top-of-the-range mobile from his jacket pocket. His jaw, locked tight, was beginning to ache. Laurie bunched up his jacket in the crook of his arm. Shuffling out from behind the table, he knocked over his abandoned, half-finished drink, flooding the surface. It was like watching Bambie on ice. But back to question three. I write London-based books for a simple reason: I know the city, or at least parts of it. Some areas are as alien to me as the dark side of the moon, so I stick with what I know: the West End and Soho, vibrant and bursting with life lived across the spectrum, and Hampstead where high up on the Heath the view across London is unrivalled.
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For the Urban Love trilogy, however, we take a trip south, across the Thames to Vauxhall and Kennington, where my family comes from and where I grew up. The Urban Love trilogy follows the complicated and sometimes downright fraught lives of a small and close-knit group of friends. When I started writing Loose Connection, the first book, I took a walk — and photos — to refresh my memory of the area where I wanted to set the main action in all three stories.
Every place of significance in the books exists. The real life version of the Georgian square where close friends Rick, and Archie and Zack live, is tucked behind a busy main road in Kennington. Okay, the place I refer to as The Square is a carbon-copy — not much artistic license there! Jake, the fourth member of the group, lives around the corner in a flat-fronted Victorian terrace - not so swanky but certainly more Bohemian. Which brings me to the garden. I loved placing Rick, Archie and Zack, and Jake and their unfolding stories in areas I know well to invoke a sense of place.
For me, as an author and reader, I like characters to be firmly rooted in their worlds — and what better world than one I know and love, and return to again and again? Photo: author's own. This is how I imagined Jake's Victorian terraced house to be. A corner of the garden. The inspiration for the cafe Zack hid out in. Christmas is looming and Jack De Lacy needs a solution to one hell of a fix.
With all the homeless shelters full, Rory seeks refuge in the first empty doorway he stumbles across.
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Finding Rory shivering in the sub-zero temperatures, Jack can no more send him away than kick a puppy out into the cold. A shower, shave and hot drink later, and the grubby street kid is transformed into a beautiful young man. Sweet and adorable, Rory will make a great fake boyfriend for the festive season — the problem is, neither Jack nor Rory is sure where the make believe ends and the truth begins.
Warning: this 37k novella contains a camp Christmas tree, a drag queen Christmas fairy called Doris, way too many jugs of eggnog, a closet posh boy, and the sweetest Kiss Before Christmas ever. Live on Amazon, and available to read in KU, from 15th November. Captive Hearts is the first book in my Deviant Hearts series, and is due to be released in late February Written in alternating 1st POV, this extract is from Billy's perspective. Billy's ready to fall, but Dashiell's there to catch him He looked at ease, and was smiling with all the warmth of earlier.
Yes, muted. Yeah, I was muted, all right. Muted, meek, mild, compliant, silent. All those words and more were my default mode. It was what was expected of me, and I played my part well because muted and all the rest of it got me through each day. I should get back," I mumbled, and I made to walk past but Dashiell caught my arm and stopped me in my tracks.
I stared down at his hand, wrapped around my forearm. A few fine dark hairs were scattered over the pale skin. His hands were calloused, as though he was used to rough or outdoor work, but it was his fingers I noticed, long and slender, and I wondered, just for a moment, what he might do with those fingers and how they might feel as they traced their way across my skin. I was as far from all right as it was possible to be, but I tugged my arm out from his grip. I needed to get back, to the noise and the heat and Frankie's insistent squeezing and rubbing of my thigh under the linen-draped table.
I honestly didn't know if what I was seeing was genuine, or whether Dashiell was under orders from Frankie to test me, and trip me up, but at that moment none of that mattered as I stood there and unraveled. I cried. I had snot running from my nose and drool from my mouth, and I was getting it all over his suit, the suit he looked fuck-off gorgeous in. I couldn't help any of it, and all I wanted was for Dashiell to hold me in his arms, a temporary safe haven from the mess that was my life.
With whatever you need. It is what it is. Your daily reports are just going to be a pile of blank pages.