Tuesday, 26 May 2015

Introducing Broken Survivor by Jennifer Labelle - Guest Post

Broken Survivor
by
Jennifer Labelle




Holly Hewitt is a survivor…
After witnessing her mother’s murder, Holly was returned to her abusive father. Resorting to drugs and alcohol, she ends up landing herself in foster care, where she is separated from her sister and utterly alone.
Zander Harrison is the light to her darkness…
Zander is young, athletic, and carefree, with the support of a loving family. But when Holly is placed in foster care with his brother’s in-laws, she turns his world upside down.
He’s driven to protect her, and to show her the past has made her strong, life is worth living, and love is worth fighting for. If only he can convince her to trust him and stop resisting their mutual attraction.
But sometimes even love isn’t enough to heal a shattered soul.
And all the hard work in the world can’t save…
A broken survivor.

BUY LINKS

AUTHOR BIO
Jennifer Labelle resides in Canada with her husband and three beautiful children. After her third child she became a stay at home mom. In her busy household Jennifer likes to spend her down time engrossed in the stories that she creates. She is an active reader of romance, mystery and anything paranormal. With an education in Addictions work she's decided to take a less stressful approach in life and hopes that you enjoy, as she shares some of her imagination with all of you.

AUTHOR LINKS
Website | Blog | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter |

Excerpt 
Pink and orange hues filled the sky with a warm beauty while the sun set. Holly wrapped her arms around herself and lifted her face toward the sky to soak in the last few moments of the sun before the chill of the night descended upon them. This was definitely not going to be an easy talk to get through. She just hoped they’d both be okay when it was done.  Zander stepped up behind her, and she felt the heat of his body before he wrapped his arms around her from behind. The way she was drawn to him made her wonder if he had a magnetic pull, and it kind of scared her a little bit. Holly tried to enjoy the view as they were silent for a few moments.
“As much as I hate to let go, I think maybe we should sit so we can finally talk,” Zander said.
 She hesitated a moment before taking his hand while they walked back to his house and sat beside each other on the patio. This is it.
“First, I want to clear up earlier,” Zander said. “She was just a friend, nothing more. She has only ever been a friend.” He lifted their linked hands and kissed the top of hers.
“This isn’t any of my business, but does she realize that? I got the impression there was much more than a friendship there.” Holly held her breath and didn’t exhale until after he answered her.
“Not for a really long time, and we were never a couple.” His posture slumped. “Before today, I hadn’t heard from her in months. She just showed up out of the blue, but I swear nothing happened.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Holly shifted to face him. “So you and she were friends with benefits a while ago. I have to admit I didn’t like seeing you with her, but I don’t have any right to be mad. We’re taking things slow, remember?”
“That’s just the thing. I want to be with you, Hol. As in, I’d be staking my claim. You’d be my girlfriend, exclusive.”
“I’m actually kind of glad you said that. I’ve recently figured out that I’m not made for casual.” She bit her lip nervously. “I don’t even care about your friend anymore because I sort of have some huge news, which throws going slow out the window anyway. That is, if you don’t freak out and feel like you want nothing to do with me after this.”
“Okay, now you’re making me nervous,” he joked nervously and playfully nudged her with his shoulder. “What’s up?”
“You probably should be.” Holly smiled weakly and then exhaled long and hard. “I didn’t want a relationship when you came into the picture, and I didn’t want to care for someone so much. But then there you were all sweet, caring, and persistent and screwed up my original plans. So let’s get that out there.” She smiled and leaned into him. Her head lay on his shoulder and she looked up at him needing to be close. “That’s the best part by the way because I’m glad I’ve let you in. I care for you a lot. I’ve messed up, though. We both have. Do you remember the night at my sister’s?”
“How could I forget?” His eyes lit up and she snorted.
“It was a good night, huh?” She licked her lips just thinking about it. “Well, I haven’t been feeling like myself lately, so Lauren decided to take me to get a checkup…”
“O-okay, you were sick and…?” Zander’s brows scrunched together in confusion, but as if he sensed her discomfort, he gave her a quick reprieve to pull herself together before she had to spit out the big news. He captured her mouth. His soft, plump lips caressed hers, then he moved to nip and suck on her bottom lip. His tongue coaxed her mouth open farther, and she tasted his mutual arousal as he probed the slit of her mouth with his tongue. One of her hands fisted in his shirt and held him closer, while the other massaged his nape and into his hair. They both moaned in the heat of the moment, and she could feel his chest rise and fall more rapidly before he pulled away.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he said. “You get sick again and I’m coming over with some chicken soup and taking care of you.
“That sounds amazing.” She smirked. “I’ve missed you too.” Holly shifted so that she was facing him now and rested her forehead against his while they caught their breath.
“Don’t go home yet. Call Lauren and let’s recreate that night.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
“You are such a goofball. As tempting as that sounds, I need to finish what I was saying before you distract me too much.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips and leaned back.
“But the distraction is so good. I can’t help myself.” He lifted a sexy, dark eyebrow in question. “Can we fool around a bit while you talk? I’m a great multitasker.”
“I’ll tell you what, if after I tell you everything I need to, you still want to fool around or more, then yes, we’ll go inside your place and I’ll make it worth your while.” She wiggled her brows back at him and smiled as she caressed the side of his face. I just hope I don’t ruin things first.
“Deal.”
“Lauren might not be too happy if she finds out the truth.”
“Really?” He looked at her in shock. “I find that hard to believe after her and Shelby practically pushed us together.” He smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “Remind me to thank them for that one day.”
 “I really hope you still feel that way after you hear what I have to say.”
“Quit stalling and just tell me already.”
“So you know I haven’t been feeling well lately, but what you don’t know is why she’s been on my case. She had some concerns that drove her to take me to the doctor in the first place.” She leaned way back in her chair and closed her eyes.
“Is she still hung up about the new apartment?”
“In a way, I guess, but right now what’s bothering her is her assumption that I might be pregnant.” She peeked in his direction to gauge his reaction.
He stiffened a bit on the seat next to her and sat straighter. “Wait, what?”

GIVEAWAY
The author is offering e-copies of “Broken Survivor” to 4 winners of the Rafflecopter. Click on this link to enter. 



Saturday, 16 May 2015

Can you hear the Thunderclap?



I’ve started a Thunderclap campaign for Hell to Pay, the first book in my Crime Files series. I’d love your support and if you would like some author love in return (or have a humane cause of your own to support) please let me know.

The book's set in Glasgow and features feisty Nancy Kerr and as well as being described as a "thrilling read" the book looks at violence against women. 

What’s Thunderclap? Well, until I started one of my own, I thought it was a sign a storm was coming. What it actually is, is a way of spreading the word about something on social media. Sign up and on a specific time and day a Tweet or Facebook post will go out.

Being an author can be such a lonely business, as we all know, but if we support each other, it doesn’t seem so lonely. 

Here's the link 





Tuesday, 12 May 2015

Why I wrote Throwaways - a novella about murdered sex workers in Glasgow





I've written stories, ever since I was little and always used to keep a diary. One of my first ever sales was a short story to Jackie magazine when I was 15. A friend of the family cashed the cheque and posted the money through the letterbox. It was such an exciting moment finding £60 in three twenty pound notes waiting for me when I came downstairs in the morning.

I got fed up with the lack of strong female women in fiction, so I decided that I wanted to write entertaining books with tough women (and male characters) and that's how I came up with the Crime Files books featuring Nancy Kerr and Tommy McIntyre. The first book was Hell To Pay and focused on Nancy Kerr who gets revenge on the men who killed her parents and left her bleeding to death on the kitchen floor.



The inspiration for Throwaways came from the unsolved murders of a spate of sex workers in Glasgow in the 1990s. They were treated like throwaways and even when one lady was murdered in her own home that had paper thin walls, her neighbours claimed they hadn't heard a thing.

I wanted to write a book about people who did care about the disappearance and murder of women like them and who decided to carry out their own investigation. Although Throwaways is set in Glasgow, it's completely fictional.

My best time to write is in the wee small hours. That's when inspiration hits. I do have a tendency to spend too much time on Twitter. 

I tweet as @jenthom72 and @The_CrimeFiles and also have two blogs - about my writing and also one about zombies (my not so secret passion).

I'm a huge fan of the George Romero movies and The Walking Dead and I had a zombie novel set in Scotland published called The Restless Dead

My main writing influence has been Stephen King. For me, he's the best living writer and his books are always entertaining. I also love Sue Townsend, Shaun Hutson, Mark Billingham, Craig Russell, Stuart MacBride, Margaret Atwood and Marian Keyes.



If I'd to offer any advice to budding writers it would be to never give up. It's so hard to get published, but the more you write and hone your craft, the more chance you have of being successful. You also have to be able to take criticism on the chin, from publishers and reviewers, which for me is the toughest thing.

The third book in the Crime Files series, Don’t Come For Me, is out on May 26th and unlike the first two books that are novellas, it's a novel. 

At the start, Nancy finds herself in a nightmare situation – he boyfriend Tommy has gone and in his place is a puddle of blood and a knife. Then the police arrive and think she’s killed him…


the Crime Files series

Friday, 8 May 2015

An excerpt from Throwaways (Crime Files book 2)

Throwaways is the second Crime Files book to feature crime-fighting duo Nancy Kerr and Tommy McIntyre.

*****Out May 12th*****

Here's a wee taster...

As the ball gag cut off her cries for help, Diane tried to steady her breathing. If she didn’t, she’d suffocate. She sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow in her head and imagined she was in the kitchen singing along with Kyra as they washed the dishes; little Kyra standing on a stool so she could reach the sink, her wee sleeves rolled up so her top didn’t get wet. But, no matter how hard she tried to tune everything out one thought was trapped in her head: she’d never see her daughter again.

“It’s good money,” Traci had chirped as she’d flicked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was platinum blonde today. “All we need to do is put on a girl on girl show, lez it up a bit and we’re onto a big score. It’ll be fun.”

She made a gesture with her hand as though she was counting money. “From what I’ve heard this punter is seriously loaded, and not shy about throwing his cash around either.”

The prospect of a big pay day was tempting, but Diane had never done anything like that before. With her, a blowy down a dark lane and a wee car ride to the back of a disused warehouse was more her usual. She’d never done any lezzy stuff, but she couldn’t afford to turn this job down. Not with her Kyra needing some shoes.

Despite the protests in her head, she said, “Okay, sounds good. But, how did you find out about this gig? Do you know the guy?” She’d long since learnt that if something sounded too good to be true, it always was.

Traci shook her head. “Nah, but a friend of mine vouched for him.”

“Who’s your friend?”

Her question made Traci smile, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. “If I told you that, doll, what’s to stop you cutting me out and doing the gig yourself?”

There was an implied threat in her words. Diane knew she’d get rag dolled if she crossed Traci. She’d seen her in action enough times; once she’d dragged another girl along the pavement by the hair because she accused her of stealing one of her punters. The other girl had screamed like a banshee, but nobody had gone to help her. You looked after yourself on the streets and never got involved unless you wanted your face rearranged. That was rule number one.

#

Traci hadn't been capable of battering anyone the last time she'd seen her. Her ginger hair (he must have ripped off her wig) had been hacked off. Tufts of it stuck out, reminding Diane of one of the hairdressing dolls Kyra was always playing with. She called it Angel, but it was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen, especially after Kyra had cut off its hair with nail scissors when she’d been out of the room.

What Diane wouldn't give right now to have the doll on her lap whilst Kyra used her best lipstick as blusher.

A tear trundled down her cheek. Nobody was ever going to find her. She'd die here, alone in this damp, dark room, with rats that were as big as cats scuttling around. She’d starve to death and then they’d eat her, gnawing on her face first; sharp, jagged teeth tearing into skin and bone. She’d seen that in a movie once. All she'd been given to eat was bread that was only fit for the birds and milk that smelled funny. She’d thought about not drinking it, but with nothing else to drink she was always glad when she saw the plastic cup.

When he brought the food, it was the only time he removed her gag. He'd leave her for five minutes then return to replace the gag. If she resisted he'd inject her with one of those needles he always carried. Pain would scream through her veins and then she’d be out of it. She’d wake up with a raging thirst and tendrils of hair sticking to the sweat on her face. But then there were worse things than being injected…

Chapter 1

As a division of labour, it didn't come more unfair than this. As Tommy sat in a comfy car, heater up full bung, sipping a Starbucks and leisurely munching on a cheese and onion bagel (with extra fried onions), I was standing outside, shivering my barely covered butt off, as the wind whooshed up my skirt and the rain came down like nails.

This was summer, in Scotland.

Huddled in a doorway, in a scraggy blonde wig, and my best Pretty Woman outfit, I'm already soaked to the skin. And, I know it won’t get any better because there are men who will pull over in their cars and ask how much I charge for a blow job or full sex.

As downward spirals go, this was bad. At least it would have been if I hadn’t been out here to catch a killer and not because I was reduced to turning tricks for a living.




   Oneclick   




I know I don't have to say it, but all text is © Copyright Jenny Thomson 2014.
Any breach of copyright and I'll send Nancy round.
Be warned: she carries a Taser and has a seriously bad attitude:) 

Sunday, 3 May 2015

Reviewers & Bloggers wanted for new Crime Files series Hell To Pay (Book 1)

HOW FAR WOULD YOU GO TO GET YOUR REVENGE?





Jenny Thomson and Limitless Publishing would like to invite you to participate
in the release of Hell To Pay.

Book 2 and 3 in the Crime Files series will be out on May 12th and May 26th. 

BLURB:
Nancy Kerr refuses to be a victim—even when she walks in on her parents’ killers and is raped and left for dead…

Fourteen months later, Nancy wakes up in a psychiatric hospital with no knowledge of how she got there.

Slowly, her memory starts to return.

Released from the institution, she has just one thing on her mind—two men brought
hell to her family home.

Now they’re in for some hell of their own…


ARC's are available for review for those who would like one, and all guest posts/packages will be sent prior to the events.

To participate, click HERE


Saturday, 2 May 2015

CAPTION CONTEST – WIN A $10 or £10 Amazon voucher and a free eBook

****THE COMPETITION IS NOW CLOSED
THE WINNER WAS OLIVIA SNOW
WELL DONE, OLIVIA, YOUR PRIZE IS ON ITS WAY***



It was my rescue dog Benjy’s birthday yesterday. Here’s a picture of him at 17 months old when he first came to live with us. 



As you can see from the pic, we greatly overestimated his size. Hence the huge bone. 
Once you come up with a caption, head over to my book launch party at 

https://www.facebook.com/events/1417899068518517/ and write your entry underneath the same picture on that page. 





I can’t wait to read your entries:) You can enter more than once.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO TO GET REVENGE? Hell To Pay (Crime Files Book 1) is out today



An extract from Hell To Pay (Crime Files Book 1) 


She took a few more steps into the living room and walked straight into hell…



Chapter 1


I’m cold, colder than I’ve ever been in my entire life and I don’t know why. Slowly, I open my eyes, tentatively at first because even opening them a fraction feels like someone's shoving red-hot pins into them. The light is so bright.


What’s with the light anyway?


Has Michael wandered in, blootered on some poncy new beer and left the light on, after collapsing in a heap onto the bed?  I’ll brain him if he has. I’m no good to anyone when I don’t get my eight hours.


Pulling myself up in bed, I reach out my arm to nudge him awake so I can give him a right mouthful. My hand finds empty space.


Where is he?


My eyes sting as I prise them open – it’s as though there's been an accident with false lashes and I've glued my eyelashes together - and that’s when I realise I’m not in our flat. The reason I’m freezing is because I’m wearing a tracing paper thin hospital gown: the kind that shows off your backside when you’re being whisked off to x-ray.


A tidal wave of panic hits me and I jerk into full consciousness.

What’s happened to me?

I try to remember, but my brain’s all bunged up as if the top of my head's been removed and the cavity filled with cotton wool.

My arms are bandaged up. Have I been in an accident?  If I have, I don’t remember. Maybe I hit my head.


I take in my surroundings. If I’m in hospital, it’s no ordinary one. For one thing, my room’s more like a cell. There’s a bed and a table bolted to the floor, but no personal stuff: photos, or cards, or stuffed animals from people wishing me well. Does anyone even know I’m here?


I grope for a call button to get a nurse, but there isn’t one. What the hell? This place is a prison.


Staggering out of bed, I fight the wave of nausea and dizziness that make me want to yell at the world to stop moving because I want to get off the carousel. The tile floor is stone cold and there are no slippers by the bed. My feet are ice blocks. Why don’t I have any socks or tights on? 


Before I reach the door, there's a jingle of keys, then a key scrapes in the lock. Holding my breath, I brace myself for what’s coming.


A woman I don’t recognize with brown hair tied back in a ponytail appears. She’s dressed in a nurse’s uniform and there’s a small smile playing on the edge of her lips.

"Good, you’re awake, Nancy."

She sounds pleased, as if we’re bosom buddies, when I’ve never seen her before in my life.

"Where am I?"

My voice comes out as a rasp as though my throat’s been sandpapered down.


The nurse puts a hand on my shoulder. "Let’s get you back into bed, Nancy."

I do as she says. I’m worried if I don’t lie back, I’ll faint.

"You’re in Parkview Hospital," she says, as she fixes the pillows so I can sit upright.

I know all the hospitals in Glasgow, but I haven’t heard of that one. I ask her what kind of hospital it is and she tells me it’s a psychiatric facility. The reason I haven’t heard of it, is because they don’t publicize it. Perhaps because it’s full of nutters they want to keep away from society. The prospect terrifies me because that would mean they must think I’m cuckoo. Why else would I be here? 


I suck in my breath. When I ask her if this is a nut house, she presses her lips tightly together as she tells me no one refers to psychiatric hospitals in that way any more. Suitably chastised, I mumble an apology not because I think one’s needed, but because she’s the one with the keys.


"Why am I here?"

I’m dreading the answer, but I need to know. I don’t feel any different. Surely if I’d lost my mind, I'd know.

"You had a breakdown."

The way she says it, she could be talking about the weather.

She asks me if I want anything and I tell her a pair of proper pajamas, a dressing gown and slippers would be nice because I’m an ice block. If she gets in touch with Mum, she’ll bring me in some stuff.


Her smile’s still there, but breaks down around the corners of her mouth. There’s something she’s not telling me, because she’s worried how I’ll react. There’s fear in her eyes. I notice she’s wearing a lucky heather brooch, the same one I got for Mum. I’m staring at it as she tells me she’s going to fetch a doctor, when a memory stirs inside me and no matter how hard I try to push it away, someone’s taken their finger out the dyke and the water’s rushing in.


Blood, blood everywhere. Dad’s slumped in his favorite armchair, head bent forward as if in prayer (he never prayed a day in his life); a single bullet hole in his head. I know it’s him, even although his face has been beaten to a pulp: his blood staining the fireside rug my mum was so fond of. Even in death, my dad has a presence. He fills a room with the sheer weight of his personality. Discarded nearby is the baseball bat they used on him. It’s covered in blood and something sticky and dark brown, resembling raw mince.


All material is copyright of the author Jenny Thomson (C) 2013



RELEASED APRIL 28TH FROM LIMITLESS PUBLISHING 





Order links for Hell to Pay (Crime Files Book 1) on Kindle

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.ca

Amazon.com.au

****Coming soon in paperback***

Books 2 and 3 coming out on May 12th and May 26th.