BLOG TOUR ~ Now You See Me by Chris McGeorge

Hi Everyone,

Today is my stop on the Blog Tour for Now You see Me by Chris McGeorge where I've a review of his latest novel. I was thrilled to be asked by Tracy Fenton of Compulsive Readers who organised this tour in conjunction with Orion Publishing to take part along with some other fab book bloggers. You can find out who else is taking part in this fabulous Blog Tour at the end of the review so without further ado, here it is:


Six people went in. Only one came out...

Introducing Standedge Tunnel: the longest canal tunnel in England.

Last year six students went in but two and a half hours later, the boat reappeared on the other side with only one of the students, unconscious, and the dog.

The case of the Strangeedge Six was largely kept from the national media. The police investigation concluded that the only remaining student Matthew killed his friends, hid the bodies on the boat and returned later to move them to an undisclosed location.

Matthew is in prison....but maintains he is innocent.

Robert Ferringham is grieving for his missing wife, Sam. So when Matthew contacts him for help with the case, promising information on Sam, Robert has no choice but to help. But can he trust Matthew?

And how will he solve the insolvable case?

Well.........I absolutely loved this book by Chris, I couldn't turn the pages fast enough, a very clever book full of mystery, doubt, thrills and spills with a bit of eeriness thrown into the mix and not knowing who to trust but once you read the blurb you'll be sucked in like I was. I would even go as far as to say I'd love to see this been made into a TV series. I don't want to say too much about this I case I may say something but buckle up for this ride and let's hope you don't have claustrophobia or a fear of tunnels.

Ashamedly I have his first book Guess Who here too which I will get around to reading as soon as I'm finished a few books for blog tours but after reading Now You See Me, I'm really looking forward to it.

Now You See Me is available in all good bookstores, libraries, on audio and on Kindle where it is currently £3.99 at the time of publication of this review. Now go and get it, you won't be disappointed.

BLOG TOUR ~ The Wolves At The Door by Gunnar Staalesen

Hi Everyone,

Today is my stop on the Blog Tour for Wolves At The Door by Gunnar Staalesen where I have an extract from his latest novel. I was thrilled to be asked by Anne Cater from Random Things Tours who organised this tour in conjunction with Orenda Books to take part along with some other fab book bloggers. You can find out who else is taking part in this fabulous Blog Tour at the end of this extract so without further ado, here it is:

She didn’t sound very friendly.

I told her who I was and said I had been asked to investigate her late

partner’s death.

She barked: ‘Who by?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Hah! It’ll be that bitch, I bet.’

‘May I visit you at home?’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Somewhere else then?’

‘I can’t see what the point is. It’s more than a month since it hap-

pened, and the police closed the case ages ago.’

‘Too early maybe?’

‘Too early! What do you mean by that?’

‘There are ... a few loose ends. I can explain when we meet.’ ‘If we meet.’

‘You must be interested in knowing what happened. Or...?’

‘Or what?’

I could have answered: Or perhaps you know already. But I didn’t. I

said: ‘You must’ve asked yourself a few questions afterwards, surely? And your daughter? How did she react to the drama?’

‘You bloody keep my daughter right out of this!’

‘By all means. It’s you I want to talk to.’

‘OK then. But it’ll have to be somewhere with lots of people around.

The café in the square inside Oasen. Could you be there in ... half an hour?’

I did a quick mental calculation. ‘I can jump on a bus. Give me a bit more time in case I’m unlucky with the schedule.

‘Three quarters of an hour. Not a second more.’

‘And how...?’

But she had already hung up. I would have to hope I knew who she

was when I got there.

In fact, catching a bus was the best option. I put my computer on

standby, pulled out the plug of the kettle, slipped on my winter coat and rushed off. The services to Fyllingsdalen went through Olav Kyrres gate and I jumped on a bus at the last moment, so in fact I was able to alight by Oasen within the thirty minutes she had first suggested. I ran through the entrance by the office of the insurance company that had given me plenty of jobs, that was until a few years ago, when my contact moved to pastures new and the link was lost, which meant my financial status sank a few more notches.

A long corridor with a view into one of the supermarket chains in the mall led to the large square in the centre of the massive building. They had planted a few palm trees in large containers to give the impres- sion that you were in the middle of the natural phenomenon the mall was named after. For me, the name Oasen had never appealed. Most of Fyllingsdalen was greener than the brick desert here. But then the shopping centre known as Lagunen was no sheltered idyll either. The choice of names for malls in the Bergen region owed more to a yearning for sunnier climes than what they were: overcrowded ant hills paying their dues to commercialism.

I stood at the entrance to the café that occupied a large part of the square and looked around, obviously searching for someone I knew – or didn’t know. I met the gaze of a robust, dark-haired woman sitting in the middle of the room and wearing black glasses and black clothes, from her jumper to her velvet trousers. She glared at me and I seemed to recognise the voice on the phone in her eyes.

I looked at her with raised eyebrows and she returned a belligerent glare. It had to be her. ‘Svanhild Olsvik?’

She nodded.

There was a free chair at her table. She had an empty cup of coffee in front of her. ‘I’ll go and get a coffee. Would you like a refill?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ll be off soon.’

‘I won’t be a moment.’

I joined the queue at the counter, poured myself a coffee from the

machine and ended up behind an elderly Bergensian lady at the cash till. She was so immersed in her account of her grandchild’s merits that I just elbowed in, threw the money on the counter and said to the listen- ing head that she could keep whatever was left over, which she accepted absent-mindedly, sweeping the money into her apron pocket without even so much as a question as to whether I wanted a receipt.

I hurried back, coffee spilling into the saucer, sat down on the free chair and adopted my most charming expression. ‘I apologise for both- ering you during your working day.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s over.’

‘What’s your job?’

‘Cleaning consultant,’ she answered with a defiant look, in case I

should be so bold as to call her job anything else. ‘I can’t understand why I’m talking to you.’

‘I’ll be as brief as possible. Let’s get straight to the point. Your partner, Mikael Midtbø, died after falling from the tenth floor of the block where you live. The police have called it a suicide. Is that your view, too?’

Her face, if possible, stiffened even more. ‘My view? What do you mean?’

‘Well ... that’s quite a brutal way of taking your life. Most people would choose another method.’

‘What do you mean? That he ...? That someone pushed him off?’ ‘Possibly.’

‘Surely the police would’ve investigated the case further, wouldn’t

they? All they did was to talk to me – twice – and then nothing hap- pened until I received a phone call telling me they’d decided it was suicide.’

‘And you were happy with that?’

‘If there was anyone who wanted to kill him it was that bitch, but he would’ve never let her in after all the trouble she’s caused.’

‘That bitch, as you call her. Are you referring to his ex-wife?’ 

‘She was the one who started all the rumours about him. You can bet your bottom dollar she’s the one who reported him to the police, too. She wanted to make sure she kept the kids. And to do that, she used the dirtiest of all the lies.’

Her face had loosened up now. Muscles twitched, her eyes wandered from side to side and her whole body was in motion. It was obvious that this was a matter that engaged her. She made a powerful impression in all ways. A large woman she may have been, but there was nothing flabby or limp about her. She seemed more like a bundle of muscle, a well-trained heavyweight wrestler. I could truly imagine the energy with which she set about the floors as a cleaning consultant.

‘Right. Did they keep in touch?’

‘Touch! He was banned from visiting his children. If he was ever seen near where they lived in Frekhaug, she would ring the police. And she never showed her face out here of course, as I was trying to tell you.’ She shifted uneasily. ‘But now I’ve got to go.’

‘Wait a minute. If we assume the police are right – in other words, that it was suicide – did you notice anything that pointed in that direc- tion, in the time before he died? Was he depressed, quick-tempered, unstable?’

She pulled a long face. ‘Depressed, quick-tempered, unstable? You talk like a social worker.’

‘ We l l ...’

Then she appeared to remember something. Her expression changed, from aggressive to more thoughtful. ‘Though something did change in him after he received a phone call.’

‘A phone call? Who from?’

‘“Do you believe in demons, Svanhild?” he said. “Get away,” I said. “Demons?” “Yes,” he said. “As much as I believe in the devil and hell,” I said. Then Astrid came home from school and there was no more talk about that, until the evening when she’d gone to bed. “What did you mean about demons earlier today?” I asked him. Then he looked, like, well, scared and he said: “There’s a pastor coming here tomorrow. He can help me,” he said. “A pastor?” I said. “A bloody priest? What do you want with him?” “Well, he insisted,” he said, and so I said he should just ring and cancel, but then he didn’t want to talk about it any more. But I could see it was on his mind for the rest of the evening, even while we were watching a decent action film on TV. And the following day it happened.’

‘He fell to his death?’

‘Yes, but now I’ve really got to go. I must be at home when Astrid comes.’

‘OK. Mm ... did you tell the police this? About the phone call?’

‘I don’t remember. Maybe.’ She stood up, took a big, dark-blue puffer jacket from the back of her chair and put it on. ‘You’d better ask them.’

‘Which school does your daughter go to? Løvås?’

She immediately leaned over me. Towering above me, her girth increased by the puffer jacket, with the nastiest expression I had seen since I was an army recruit, she made an even more aggressive impres- sion than before, bordering on dangerous. ‘That’s got bugger-all to do with you. If you go anywhere near my daughter I’ll fucking well report you. Have you got that?’

‘Loud and clear,’ I said. Sergeant, I added, in my head, but that was where it stayed. No reason for any slips of the tongue.

With long, bouncing strides she disappeared from the café and left in the same direction from which I had entered the mall. I stayed put and finally tasted the coffee, which had died a silent death in the mean- time, and tasted like it.

But now I had something to chew on. I took out my notepad and wrote a single word on it: Pastor. After some deliberation I added a question mark. I wanted to know a bit more about him. 

BLOG TOUR ~ The Lies We Tell by Niki Mackay

Hi Everyone,

Today is my stop on the Blog Tour for The Lies We Tell by Niki Mackay where I've a review of her latest novel. I was thrilled to be asked by Tracy Fenton of Compulsive Readers who organised this tour in conjunction with Orion Publishing to take part along with some other fab book bloggers. You can find out who else is taking part in this fabulous Blog Tour at the end of the review so without further ado, here it is:

Last night I betrayed my husband.

This morning my daughter disappeared.

My husband may have forgiven my first mistake. But he will never forget this.

And so I have to find her.

Before it's too late. For all of us.

Meet Miriam Jackson, she's a famous radio presenter with her own daily talk show. She is married to a very successful film director Nick and she has created the perfect life for herself, up until her daughter goes missing.

Miriam is desperate to fine her before her husband finds out and her perfect life will start  to crumble around her. But her daughter has gone missing before so has she just run away or is there something more sinister going on?? She calls on the only person who can help, in the for, of Private Investigator Madison Attallee, who has just solved the biggest case of her career.

Can Madison find Miriam's daughter before it's too late and more importantly will Miriam share the truth about her past??

Well, where do I start with this...........I didn't just like it, I LOVED it, full of suspense, mystery and fear was palpable on each page I couldn't turn the pages fast enough. I finished it in two sittings which is at times unusual for me with life always getting in my way but I couldn't put it down.

The sociopath/kidnapper character was absolutely brilliant, very well written and cleverly constructed. They were everything you'd expect with a sociopath - cold, calculating, manipulating and has no regard for anyone's feelings or who they hurt on their path of destruction. It was a spine-chilling, pulse pounding roller coaster ride of a read and at times, I could feel I was right there with the characters and felt my blood pressure rising on a couple of occasions, especially towards the end.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

A really well researched and well written book, I'm really looking forward to reading what Niki writes next (no pressure) but in the meantime I will be reading her previous novels.

The Lies We Tell is available in all good bookshops and libraries from June 27th, on audio and on Kindle where it is currently £4.99 at the time of publication of this review.

BLOG TOUR ~ Sinner by Jacqui Rose

Hi everyone,

Today is my stop on the Blog Tour for Sinner by Jacqui Rose where I've an extract from her latest novel. I was thrilled to be asked by Sabah Khan from Avon Books to take part along with some other fab book bloggers. You can find out who else is taking part in this fabulous Blog Tour at the end of the review so without further ado, here it is:

Alfie Jennings gulped down the last drops of the bottle of whiskey as he watched the orange and yellow flames of the fire dance about. Pulling his gaze away he stared at the letter he held in his hand, reading it once more as he tried to stop himself from trembling whilst feeling the same clawing terror he’d felt over the past ten months or so since the letters first started to arrive.

Leaning over the neatly cut-up line of cocaine that sat on top of the black, hand-carved mantelpiece in the front room of the large Georgian house in Soho, Alfie snorted it up greedily. He hoped the coke he’d bought from his friend would somehow make him feel better. Get him high and make him forget.

Closing his eyes, he swallowed as the white powder hit the back of his throat. He tasted the bitterness as a rush of euphoria raced through his bloodstream and for just one fleeting moment, his crippling fear subsided, only for it to return a few seconds later as it came crashing back all too hard, all too quickly.

About to snort another line at the same time as making a mental note to pull up his mate for selling him low-grade coke, Alfie felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he stared at the screen. Number withheld. He frowned as he answered.

BLOG TOUR ~ Bonnie and Stan by Anna Stewart

Hi Everyone,

Today is my stop on the Blog Tour for Bonnie and Stan by Anna Stewart where I've a review of her latest novel. I was thrilled to be asked by Tracy Fenton of Compulsive Readers who organised this tour in conjunction with Trapeze Books to take part along with some other fab book bloggers. You can find out who else is taking part in this fabulous Blog Tour at the end of the review so without further ado, here it is:

After 50 years together Stan still adores his wife... so why is he dating again?

Meet Stan and Bonnie who are in their mid seventies and are definite soul mates. They met in Liverpool during the swinging sixties when the Beatles were their soundtrack and the Merseybeat scene. They grew up together and have grown old together, raised their children who in turn have given them grandchildren. They finally decided to take the plunge and build their dream home but disaster strikes when Stan is diagnosed with a terminal illness.

Stan is running out of time and he can't bear the thought of leaving Bonnie alone so off he goes along with his granddaughter Greya in search of finding someone to replace him and give Bonnie a new love of her life. And she must never find out.......

I loved this book, packed full of emotion and humour, the characters were great and loved Stan and Bonnie, they remind me so much of my parents (who are thankfully still here today) with their stories of growing up in the swinging sixties. I loved the way the storyline alternated between the sixties and the present day as it gave me a feel for what it was like back then, from the descriptions of the music scene to the clothing, I think I would've enjoyed it too. This book is a slow paced read so don't expect to fly through it but It made you savour the story even more.

This is a bittersweet and heart-warming read, the story flows well throughout the book. I really enjoyed Anna's book which I read in a couple of days. This story had it all a little bit of humor, love, family, protectiveness to more sensitive and hard-hitting issues - I found I had a little tear in my eye at the end along with shedding a few along the way, so grab this book, curl up on the couch with a BIG bar of chocolate and prepare to have a few lump in your throat moments too. It definitely didn't disappoint.

Bonnie and Stan is available in all good bookshops, libraries, on audio and on Kindle where it currently £0.99 at the time of publication of this review.