Three belters – books I mean.

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A Gift From the Gods by Martin Gunn

A science fiction thriller which isn’t usually my ‘bag’ but I couldn’t put this down. A brisk pace, and an imagination that proves the theory that everything is impossible until it is done – or so Gunn proves in this intriguing novel. It has everything – aliens, gods, Dinosaurs, Nazis, the CIA and let’s not forget the Mafia. This must have had the authors brain whizzing at a rate of knots, but somehow he puts it all into this rock ‘n’ roll of a page turner. Set in 1985 a Nazi cell busies itself attempting to create a Fourth Reich (horrible thought) using – wait for it – technology from a crashed UFO . The hero? One of the rolling eyes brigade – a teenage boy. Give it a try. It’ll make you breathless and it’ll be worth it.

A Gift From the Gods by Martin Gunn. pb pub Matador. Price £10.99

 

The Doll House  by Phoebe Morgan

I find creepy books disconcerting. It’s all right while it’s daylight but then one lies in bed wondering quite what is creaking its way up the stairs. This is rather like that feeling as Corinne’s dream of children seems to be imploding after a series of failed IVF attempts.

Then – oh crikey – she starts to find pieces of a dolls house turning up. Not only that, but as they accumulate and furniture is included she realises that it is a replica of her house. is she being stalked? How long has this been going on? What do ‘they’ want…

It’s the stuff of nightmares. Stalking, waiting, not knowing is haunting. Not to be read in bed.

The Doll House by Phoebe Morgan. pb pub HQ  £7.99

Mission Critical by Mark Greaney comes with a quote from Lee Child… ‘Hard, fast and unflinching – exactly what a thriller should be.’

I concur, and thought it would make a fabulous film. Would there be room for little old me?

Court Gentry’s flight on a CIA transport plane is interrupted when a security team brings a hooded man aboard. They want  to kick Gentry off the flight but are overruled by CIA headquarters. Thank heavens thank heavens… The mystery man is being transported to England where a joint CIA/M16 team will interrogate him about a mole in Langley.

When they land in an isolated airbase in the UK, they are attacked by a hostile force and the prisoner is kidnapped. Only Gentry escapes. His handlers send him after the attackers but what can one operarative do against a trained team of assassins?

Oh the bliss of it. Can’t you just see it. Bruce Willis to the rescue, but – perhaps someone younger? No, no, Bruce…

Fabulous book, love every minute, and somehow not dark, no awful shadows to infiltrate one’s dreams. Just great thrills, suspense, turn the page, quick quick. Loved it – please, please – deserves to be a film.

Mission Critical by Mark Greaney pub Sphere Large pb £14.99 and ebook.

 

 

SISTER SCRIBES GUEST: CAROL THOMAS ON COLLABORATION

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It’s my absolute pleasure to introduce Carol Thomas, my long time Chindi Authors partner in crime and one of the best collaborators I know. Carol’s contemporary romance novels have relatable heroines whose stories are layered with emotion, sprinkled with laughter and topped with irresistible male leads; while her children’s books have irresistibly cute, generally furry characters young children can relate to.

“Alone we can do so little, together we can do so much.” — Helen Keller

At the Romantic Novelists’ Association conference in July 2018, Sam Missingham made the point that as writers, even writing within the same genre, we are not competing. Readers read books, lots of them and generally in a preferred genre. Working collaboratively on promotion means a group can be greater than the sum of its parts. Her point was well made and, from experience, I have to agree.

After self-publishing my first novel, Crazy Over You, I reached the point where I didn’t know what to do next. Fortunately, I heard about Chindi Authors – a local group of self-published authors, working together to promote their work. Writing in a range of genres, they had amongst them a wealth of knowledge about self-publishing and promotion.

I joined and learnt a lot, not just from the others, but also through what I achieved from being an active member of the group. My confidence grew, my author platform improved. When it came to pitching my next novel, The Purrfect Pet Sitter, to Choc Lit, all that I had learnt was invaluable. I successfully gained a contract under their imprint Ruby Fiction.

While I remain an active member of Chindi Authors, following Sam Missingham’s advice, I have also recently joined forces with fellow romance writers Caroline James, Angela Barton, Morton S Gray, Julie Houston, Jane Cable, Tora Williams and Mariam Kobras to form Apricot Plots.

We are all passionate about writing smart, fresh romance for the twenty-first century – stripping away out-dated conceptions of romance and romance writers. We are loud and proud about our genre.

Covering the sub-genres of contemporary, historical, mystery, suspense, comedy and more, together we offer something for every romance lover. And we enjoy interacting with our readers, offering competitions and giveaways too. Together we reach more readers and can keep our presence active. If one author is having an off day, the others can take up the slack.

And while our public persona as a group is important what is also invaluable is the private group we share. Behind the scenes, we can talk about issues with our writing, plots, edits and so forth, as well as the general things, positive and negative, that get thrown at us in life. We are there for each other, ready to listen, supportive and encouraging.

When you write within the romance genre, you soon learn that you are part of a very supportive and collaborative community of writers – especially if you become a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association. But, as my experience with Chindi Authors proved, I don’t think this is necessarily genre specific. Writing itself can be a solitary affair, connecting with other authors is important and when you work collaboratively, it can be beneficial too.

Three top tips for working collaboratively:

1) Take a little time to find your way, but also be prepared to step up. Somewhat obvious but … the key to collaboration is collaborating.

2) Be prepared to compromise. Working as part of a group will require it at some point.

3) Be actively supportive of others; you’ll get more from it than you might think. Rightfully so, when it comes to working in a group, you tend to get out, what you put in.

 

Find Carol on Twitter @carol_thomas2 and on other social media here:

http://facebook.com/carolthomasauthor

http://www.pinterest.co.uk/carol_thomas2/

http://www.instagram.com/carol_thomas2/

Website / Blog Link:

http://carol-thomas.co.uk/blog

 

 

 

The Private World of Cammo by Simon Baillie

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This unpretentious book landed on my desk, and I flipped through it, intrigued by the blurb: Edinburgh is a city full of historical attractions and world famous festivals, a magnet for visitors from around the world. But away from the city, hidden amongst a 17th century landscape, lies Cammo Estate. Its history far stranger than fiction. The ruined mansion was once home to the infamous last residents, the Maitland-Tennent family.

Torn apart by divorce, feuds and financial scandal.

A mansion filled with antiques, left to rot, open to the elements and thieves. This is Cammo, once home to the reclusive Black Widow.

The author, Simon Baillie first became fascinated by Cammo when on a walk with his neighbour and decided to find out more about this neglected estate, so off to Edinburgh Central Library he went. Like Topsy, the book ‘growed’.

It is divided up into sections. There is a brief history of Cammo House, the building of the house, the Maitland-Tennent Family, Financial dealings and so on. It could have been proofed rather better but this doesn’t detract from this intriguing book.

Fascinating. And the Black Widow? Ah, read it and see.

The Private World of Cammo by Simon Baillie – £13.45 from Amazon.co.uk

LOST BOYS PIZZA – MIXING MODERN DAY FOOD WITH AN 80s CULTURE

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Where can you pay homage to some of the greatest movie moments from the 80s whilst feasting on the latest foodie trends AND enjoying a full on Absinthe bar? Camden, of course!

Lost Boys Pizza recently opened its second branch in this tourist hotspot and serves up charcoal based pizzas in a down and dirty setting.

There’s so much to chat about with this place but we’re going to focus on three things – the food, the drink and the vibe…

The Food

So, charcoal pizza. Don’t get us wrong, we were a little apprehensive at first but it turns out that the taste barely differs to your standard crust (it’s just a bit smokier) but it does feel much lighter on the gut – meaning less guilt all round… hurrah! Lost Boys take a twist to their pizzas so there’s no traditional margerita or Hawaiian pizza here. What you will be treated to though, is an array of really reasonably priced dishes (avg. £8.50) with funky names (Santa Carla, Ready Pizza One and Fangs For The Memories) and even funkier tastes (in a good way).

The Drinks

One of the things that really makes this place stand out is its Absinthe packed lair. The first Absinthe bar in London town, here you can try variants of the strong stuff whilst getting a full education on its history and the best way to take the liquor. And no, it’s not straight from the bottle on a Greek street corner.

The Vibe

No matter where you look, there’s a nod to a retro movie. Black and white posters, actual costumes from top film sets (we won’t give away the surprises) and a playlist that will have you wanting to don your Doc Martins, you’ll leave wondering what this modern day madness is outside.

My White Best Friend and Other Letters Left Unsaid come to The Bunker

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In March the week-long festival of letters, My White Best Friend and Other Letters Left Unsaid comes to The Bunker. How do you start the conversation with someone you love about how their beliefs, their unthinking actions, their politics undermine, hurt, erase you?

With performers including Inès de Clercq (Broadchurch, ITV; Jerusalem, Channel 4), Rosie Day (Watership Down, BBC; Outlander, STARZ), Tom Moutchi (Famalam, BBC; Twitstorm, Park Theatre) and Zainab Hasan (Tamburlaine, RSC; Shakespeare Trilogy, Donmar Warehouse) each evening promises to be fascinating and thought provoking because every night new letters will be given to performers to read for the first time onstage.

Rachel De-Lahay and director Milli Bhatia have commissioned eleven writers to pen these letters saying the unsaid to the people that matter most. These will be reflecting on intersections of identity, and explore lived experiences – of people of colour, people who identify as non-binary or LGBTQIA+, of people’s whose voices have been side-lined.

De-Lahay’s provocative act of letter writing engages with racial tensions, microaggressions and emotional labour, asking the privileged to step back to allow rest of the room to take up space.

My White Best Friend and Other Letters Left Unsaid

The Bunker, 53A Southwark Street London SE1 1RU

Performance Dates Monday 18th – Saturday 23rd March 2019, 7.30pm

Box Office Tickets are £10 and available from https://www.bunkertheatre.com/ and 020 7234 0486.

 

 

 

LUNA CINEMA PARTNERS WITH NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM

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If you’ve not yet attended a Luna Cinema event in London, now’s the time to try! Hosting an array of springtime screenings in the iconic main hall, cinemagoers can catch their favourite film, grab a free bag of popcorn and settle under the, erm, skeletons to watch a flick.

Hitting the big screen in London are:

A Quiet Place – 9th March

The Jungle Book – 10th March

The Greatest Showman  – 10th March

Bohemian Rhapsody – 11th March

A Star Is Born – 11th March

Night At The Museum – 12th March

Jurassic Park – 12th March

Tickets are also available for Leeds Castle in Maidstone Kent

All tickets cost £27.75 per person and a bag of popcorn is included in the price. A pop up bar will serve drinks at an additional charge

For more information, visit the Luna Cinema website

KEEPING IT PIN-TASTIC WITH LITTLE ONES

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It’s a fine line –  bulking out your home with toys that keep the little ones thriving without completely destroying that minimalist, Scandi styled space. We’ve pulled together our top three places to buy brilliantly inspired yet beautiful toys for little ones – meaning your house is still perfectly Instagrammable and you have a happy camper in the mix!

 

Hape

The selection of wooden toys from Hape are a firm Frost favourite. Retro in appearance but advanced in stimulation for little ones, you get the best of both for a modest price. Our personal favourites are the gorgeous pound and tap bench, the rotating music box and most of all… the SOLAR SYSTEM JIGSAW. A jigsaw of beautiful colours that will, when done right, look like a purpose built mosaic in your living room. Check out the Hape site for more details.

       

After Noah

This family run business is cuteness to the core. Packed with traditional looking toys, its box of ABC building blocks and wooden jungle animals will help with your little one’s learning AND your house still looking like a Pinterest board – winner!

 

Mulberry Bush

Dancing alligators, Mr Mushroom hammer pegs and Bernie’s Ride On Bus are three of our favourites from Mulberry Bush. The site features tonnes of brands which are playing in this space and is dedicated to retro looking wooden toy which are BEAUTIFULLY crafted.

Mr Perfect. A Short Story From Rachael Stewart

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Ellie hiccupped her way past enemy territory, doing her best to ignore the display of static human perfection goading her through the glass to her right. Men and women, with their perfect faces, flawlessly sculpted hairdos and blindingly-white smiles, all captured mid-fitness move and plastered across the building of the exclusive new health club she had just managed to escape from.

It was all perfect, perfect, perfect. The quintessential front for a joint that had been just as nose-rubbingly slick on the inside. And a complete and utter contrast to the relaxing setup she had created many moons before just next door.

She had wanted to hate it all; from the latest state-of-the-art equipment to the serene colour scheme, right down to the fluffy white towels being offered up to members. But even her hyper-critical eye had to see the appeal…damn it.

A growl erupted in her throat, her head beginning to spin as a few too many prosecco’s mingled with the latest wave of rage and her feet faltered beneath her, teetering as they were on the silly stiletto’s she’d been coaxed into wearing that evening: Go to the launch party, her well-meaning friend and employee, Jas, had urged, thrusting the shoes into her resistant palms, make him realise what he’s destroying, your dream to provide training spaces for real people, you’ll win him over for sure.

She laughed out loud now at the silliness of it all. Why she’d even thought to go along with it she had no idea. When all was said and done, she’d no desire to be face-to-face with the man behind the soulless club, so to attend his celebratory launch night was utter madness.

She stumbled as her heel caught in the cobbled paving stones and flung her hand out to steady herself, her palm pressing up against the glass wall. The cold surface bit into the heat of her hand and with it came a ridiculous sense of shame that she would use the said building for support. 

She snapped it back, her eyes being rewarded with an unhindered view of a male chest, bare and taut, biceps poised as the man folded his arms. She let her eyes travel upwards, taking in the vast expanse of chiselled masculinity, each muscle toned and ready for action. A strong neck leading to a jaw carved from granite that barely softened to house the aforementioned perfect grin, then a strong nose and eyes that were sure to send women weak at the knees, their colour indiscernible in the black and white photograph. 

They would probably be blue, she mused, the colour of the Greek ocean and the perfect match to the foppish hair curling around his overly big head. 

One big, pig-headed head!

She sniggered at her own critique, finding great delight in berating the defenceless life size photograph of the man that fronted the successful nutritionist sport centres taking over the country. Pushing out small gyms like her own, brainwashing the market with unrealistic ideals that she had worked hard to discount. Oh, how she itched to wipe that smarmy grin right off his face. 

The actual owner hadn’t even had the decency to attend his club’s launch night, sending his lackeys to do it for him. To think, she’d only attended in the hope that she could give him a piece of her mind. She had necked the first two glasses of bubbles just to keep up her nerve. But it soon became apparent the guy had better things to be doing. Probably taking over another city, seducing its people with his sickeningly perfect portrayals and empty promises of the perfection they could achieve.

“Well more fool them.” She swayed backwards as she tried to glare down her opposition. “If I can’t do it to you in person, then your company mascot will have to do.”

A smile forming, she scanned the deserted street; save for the odd passing car and distant reveller, the only sound of life came from inside the club. There was no one to stop her from acting out the little plan hatching in her brain. 

“Let’s see how good Mr Perfect looks with a spot of colour.” 

She smiled into her handbag as she fished inside to retrieve the bright red lipstick, another hiccup erupting. Maybe the third glass of fizz hadn’t been such a great idea. Not when she rarely drunk alcohol…

Slowly she twisted the base of the lipstick, staring down at it and feeling a teeny pang of guilt. It was Jas’s after all, just another thing she had coaxed her into sporting that evening. It’s the perfect match for this, she had said as she threw the dress at her. And to be fair, it was the only thing of Jas’s that had covered enough of her curves and still been a decent enough length. It was still far too short for Ellie’s liking though. 

And as for the lipstick, she could always buy her another… 

She looked up at the eyes gazing back at her and reached out. Using more pressure than it probably required, she began her vengeful ministrations on the impotent portrait. And then she started laughing, her strokes turning light and gleeful. Boy was this liberating and so—unlike her. 

Maybe she should have done something similar months back, before, she’d morphed into the workaholic singleton that desperately needed to find herself a life, to use Jas’s words.

Well, if only she could see me now…

“Red never was my colour.”

Ellie’s hand froze midway through her final addition to the masterpiece—a teeny, weeny asset in the nether regions—and her brain scrambled to fit together the identity of the person stood directly behind her. It couldn’t, it wasn’t… Slowly she turned, her cheeks reaching a matching shade to the lippy.

“Oops.” She gave a tiny shrug, her smile one of sheepish splendour.

“Have a thing for defacing public property, do we?”

She swallowed, he was even better looking in 3D and the tiny flutter taking place in her belly had far less to do with being caught than it should. No, it felt like it ran a whole lot deeper and connected with the apex of her thighs. 

“I wasn’t beating up on you per se.” She cocked her head to the side, the incriminating lipstick pointing to the sign overhead and the surname of the man that owned the club, and the mammoth company. “It’s the man behind the brand, not the pretty-stuff he uses to flaunt it.”

“The pretty-stuff?” His eyes were actually dancing. He didn’t look angry, he looked amused. 

And wouldn’t you? You just called him the pretty-stuff! Are you off your head?

She wet her lips and stood tall, beating back her internal telling-off. “I’m not cleaning it off.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“No.” He hadn’t. But the way he crossed his arms, just like in the picture, suggested he was waiting for something. And the way he scanned her, his eyes penetrating her layers of clothing and stripping her bare. He looked like he could eat her alive, like he wanted her, or wanted to punish her…

She squinted up at him, her voice tentative, “Are you going to call the police?”

He laughed, the sound taking the flutter inside and turning it into a full-on typhoon. “No, I’m not going to call the police, Ellie.”

She froze mid-breath and shook her head. “How do you know who I am?”

“I make it my business to know as much as possible about my neighbours, particularly when their business impacts on mine.”

“Neighbours?” Her spine tingled with growing understanding. But he couldn’t be the company mascot and the man. He couldn’t. 

“You’re, him?” she asked, the lipstick edging towards the name in lights once again, this time far more hesitantly. “You’re Jude Harrington, of Harrington Leisure, the Harrington leisure.”

He nodded, still no trace of anger, only amusement, only…fire. “For my sins.”

She swallowed again. Jesus, he was not what she expected, never mind beating up his company for flaunting ideals, she’d been so full of prejudice when she’d assumed the real man behind the company would be anything but this perfect specimen of a man. 

Ah, hell.

“I’ve been told you were waiting for me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Would you like to talk now? Or would you like to finish your art first?” He looked passed her to the wall. “Personally, I’d prefer you finished because I definitely need a couple more inches down there.”

The heat seared her cheeks now. What did one do in this situation, leg it and pretend it never happened, pray he didn’t report her and that they never crossed paths again?

“Before you run, Ellie, I am here to talk with you, I think the least you can do is agree to dinner with me?”

“Dinner?” It came out like a squeak and she clamped her jaw shut. He couldn’t be serious. “Now?”

“Yes.” He bowed his head a little. “Despite the fangs you’ve just given me, I don’t bite…unless you want me to.”

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. 

Never had she been more aroused or more flight-struck than in that moment.

“Please, Ellie, I think we have more in common than you think. What do you have to lose?”

It was a simple question with a colossal answer. 

You owe it to your dream to talk to him.

You owe it to the long-neglected part of you to pursue the spark so readily blazing in his eye.

“I’ll just finish up…” She turned away, twisting the lipstick once more and giving him a perfect view of her behind as she bent forward. “…then we can get right to it.”

 

This wonderful romantic was written by Rachael Stewart, who writes feminist, uplifting romance for the UKs #1 romance publisher, Mills & Boon.

As a child Rachael Stewart wrote stories, but she pushed her hobby aside for the big city career, getting a First Class Degree in Business and a job as a Business Analyst. When she had children and settled down in Leeds, she was finally gifted the time to put into her writing. Rachael had two romances published by an independent publisher, before signing with Mills & Boon last year.

Her upcoming novel, Mr One-Night Stand (publsihed 21st February), follows Managing Director, Jennifer Haynes. When she sees a gorgeous stranger across a London bar, she sets out to seduce him. But when he turns out to be Marcus Wright, her new business partner, suddenly she’s mixing business with pleasure.

Written by women, for women, Mills & Boon’s DARE books are sexy romances, featuring strong women who know exactly what they want.

Available from Amazon.co.uk.