Thursday, 27 July 2017


Today's guest is the wonderful Elin Gregory with her new release.... The Bones of Our Fathers.
I am a huge fan of Elin's and I cannot wait!

The Bones of Our Fathers
By Elin Gregory
Available 1st August 2017 from Manifold Press
Approx 79,500 words
ISBN  9781908312549


Malcolm Bright, brand new museum curator in a small Welsh Border town, is a little lonely until – acting as emergency archaeological consultant on a new housing development – he crosses the path of Rob Escley, aka Dirty Rob, who makes Mal’s earth move in more ways than one.

Then Rob discovers something wonderful, and together they must combat greedy developers and a treasure hunter determined to get his hands on the find. Are desperate measures justified to save the bones of our fathers? Will Dirty Rob live up to his reputation? Do museum curators really do it meticulously?

Answers must be found for the sake of Mal’s future, his happiness and his heart.

Buy Links:


Mal couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed an evening so much. Rob’s frank appreciation, and that it was ignored by the others apart from a few gibes at Rob’s expense, had filled Mal with a sense of confidence he didn’t normally enjoy and he played his pool with a flair that surprised him and made Betty nod approvingly. He had even held his own when the banter became more general.

“I’m not letting you upset Betty,” he’d said after an innocent question about her ‘Peaches’ nickname’ prompted a story about a house party when they were sixteen and Betty’s karaoke performance after a pint of peach flavoured schnapps.

“Knight in shinin’ armour is it?” Sion said.

“No, I have to work with her tomorrow. Besides, don’t some of the rest of you have nicknames? Dirty Rob, isn’t it?”

There was one of those tense and silent moments. It can’t have lasted more than a second, but it felt much longer and quite a lot happened. Rob’s lips thinned, Sion glared at Betty who flushed a very ugly pink and Morris emitted an anxious whine. Mal realised he had said absolutely the wrong thing.

“I—um—was called Rainbow in school,” he said. “Rainbow Brite? Like the cartoon.”

“We used to watch that.” Gary grinned. “Didn’t we, Rob?”

“Dammit, Gary!” Rob’s tone was aggrieved but his lips were easing into a smile. “Never out me as a Rainbow Brite fan, lapsed, when I’m trying to impress an attractive bloke.”

Elin's bio:

Logo by Catherine Dair

Elin Gregory lives in South Wales and has been making stuff up since she learned to talk. Writing has always had to take second place to work and family but, slowly, she is finishing the many novels on her hard drive and actually trying to do something useful with them.
Historical subjects predominate. She has written about ancient Greek sculptors, 18th century seafarers but also about modern men who change shape at will and how echoes of the past can be heard in the present. Heroes tend to be hard as nails but capable of tenderness when circumstances allow.
There are always new works on the go and she is currently writing more 1930s spies, adding to a series of contemporary romances and doing background reading for stories set in Roman Britain and in WW2.

Saturday, 15 July 2017


I am giving five people the chance to win an ebook from my self-pub back catalogue which you can find HERE.

All you have to do is leave a comment telling me your favourite MM book, mine is Nothing Ever Happens by Sue Brown, and my glamorous assistant will pick two winners on the 22nd July. Please don't forget to leave your email within the comment, or I won't be able to contact you if you win.

Monday, 10 July 2017



Life is full of decisions and it’s the split-second ones that change your world forever.

Nick Shepherd made such a decision on the day his son, Jesse, was taken from a Christmas market in Naperville. The woman looked normal and had a son of her own, and he was only going to be a minute. But that minute was all she needed. His son was gone.

A year later, the task force is being downsized and they are no closer to finding Jesse than they were the day he disappeared. At his wits end, Nick is given a number and a name by the lead on the case.

Ex-detective Frank Ford has issues, several of them. Two steps shy of a full-blown alcoholic, all he wants is to bury himself in the bottle. He’s doing a pretty good job of it, too, when Nick Shepherd asks for his help. Does Ford want to help? No. Is Ford going to help? Hell no. Until four words resonated deep within him.

“She took my son!” 


Tapping the woman in front of them on the shoulder, Nick made an executive decision.
“Excuse me,” he said as she turned around. “My son left his mitten at the seating area over there but I don’t want him to miss his turn. Would you mind watching him for a minute while I run over and find it?”
The woman’s kindly brown eyes took in Jesse’s tear-soaked face and the length of the line then smiled. “Of course,” she replied. “But be quick, I think they’re rushing the kids through so they get in as many as they can before closing.”
“Like there’s fire coming out of my as—sorry, butt—sorry.” Nick stumbled over the words but she only laughed and waved her hand.
“Thanks,” Nick said gratefully and quickly hugged Jesse to him. “I’ll be right back, buddy, okay? You just stand here with this nice lady and I’ll be so quick you won’t even notice I’ve gone.”
Jesse looked at him warily but the woman smiled and said, “He’ll be fine with me and Marcus, won’t you?” Jesse gave a hesitant nod and Nick hit the ground running.
The mitten Gods must have been smiling down on him because he found it under the table where they’d been sitting almost immediately. He heaved a huge sigh of relief and dashed back to Santa’s Grotto, mitten held high like a victory torch so Jesse could see.
Nick made good on his promise, he was back in just over a minute, if a little out of breath. Promising himself he’d tell Daisy to stop bringing in donuts to work, he headed to the front of the line. He smiled as he slowed his approach, not wanting to slip on the frozen ground. Nick was surprised to see Jesse still held the woman’s hand. Although Jesse was an affectionate kid, he was also very cautious and took a while to warm up to new people. A hand tightened around Nick’s heart. It had been a long time since Jesse had felt a motherly touch. Even when they’d sat on the couch watching TV, Jesse’s hand had always been curled around Anna’s.
“I got it, dude!” Nick said jubilantly, putting his hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “It was right whe—”
The words caught in his throat as the boy turned and so did the woman holding his hand. “Hey!” she yelled, pulling the boy toward her.
“I’m sorry.” Nick held up his hands. “I thought you were… my….” He spun on his heel, his gaze flitting all around him. “Jesse!” His name echoed on the cold evening air. “Jesse! My son? Where’s my son?” Nick grabbed the woman’s forearm and her eyes widened in horror. “My son!” he repeated. What was wrong with her? Why was she looking at him like that?
“Hey, man, take it easy.” That came from a big, bald man a couple of spaces down the line.
Nick ignored him and shook the terrified woman. “My son, he was here. Right here. Where is he? You must have seen him!”
“Sir, is there a problem?”
Nick looked at the woman dressed in a short-skirted elf costume and the burly security guard behind her. He dropped the frightened woman’s arm and ran shaking hands through his hair. “My son,” he said again. Why was no one listening to him? “He was right here! Where is he?” He turned back to the dark-haired woman who now clasped her son to her tightly. “You saw him. You must have. He was with the other woman and the boy. I just went to find his… his mitten.” Nick waved it pathetically, the woolen mitten still clutched firmly in his fingers. “I found… it.”
“The little blond boy?” the elf asked.
“Yes!” Nick tried not to scream but panic, raw and heavy bubbled deep within him. He tried to push it down, but he could taste it in the back of his throat. “He was here. Right here. I was only gone—”
“She left.”
“She left?” Nick shook his head. “What do you mean she left? Where. Is. My. Son?”
The elf turned her concerned gaze on the security guard, who stepped forward and put a firm hand on Nick’s shoulder. Spots dotted Nick’s peripheral vision as his brain tried to force him to accept what she was saying.
“Sh-she said there was an emergency. That they had to go.”
“I-I thought you were together,” she stuttered. “Oh, my God. I didn’t know. I thought you were toge—”
“Where is my son?” Nick knew what the answer was going to be, but he had to hear it. “Where is my son!

“Sh-she took him.”


Monday, 2 January 2017


Woohoo! The Glamorous Assistant has waved her magic wand and the winner of the audio version of Unshakeable Faith is......... (that's the best I could do for a drum roll)......


Thursday, 29 December 2016


Happy New Year my lovelies!

I have one last copy of Unshakeable Faith in Audiobook to give away!

Narrated by Sean Lenhart, it has kept a smile on my face all over Christmas to be able to listen to my very first novel.

It might not kick the New Year off with a bang - but it'll certainly give it a tingle.

Leave a comment below with your email (or I can't pick you!) and my glamorous assistant will pick a winner on New Year's Day!


Of all the bars in all the towns in all the world, the stranger walks into Brody Tyler's. With no memory and a name he chose from a newspaper, Nash is a gamble - one Brody is willing to take. It isn't long before Brody and Nash fall in love, but then a tragic accident shatters their cozy world, resetting Nash's memory once again.
The new Nash Walker is a businessman with a bottom line, and he doesn't care what or who gets stomped on. Waking up in a hospital bed after a hit-and-run with no idea where he's been for the past six months is bad enough, but someone trying to kill him is even worse. Enter Brody Tyler, accidental bodyguard.

I hope you had a lovely Christmas and wish you a wonderful 2017!

Monday, 7 November 2016



Ever wondered what it would be like to just go with it? You know, buy that dress you saw even though you can’t really afford it? Have that cake even though you know you shouldn’t and enjoy every deliciously sinful mouthful?

How about the guy that keeps giving you the green light? Would you sit and wait for him to make a move or would you go for it? That’s what Ben asks himself when the hottie who’s been coming in for the same cup of coffee and blueberry muffin for the past two weeks knocks on his door…


The chime of the bell above the door heralded the arrival of another customer and the fine hairs on the back of Ben’s neck prickled. He was here—Brown-Eyes as Ben had christened him—right on time. Ben swallowed hard and turned around as nonchalantly as he could. Brown-Eyes sat at the table in the corner, the menu in his hand as he scanned the contents. Why he did that, Ben had no idea; he’d been ordering the same thing at the same time for the last two weeks. Every time he did it, Ben wondered if he was going to choose something different but it was always the same—a white coffee and a blueberry muffin.
Ben tried not to sigh out loud, barely achieving his goal as he remembered the first time the man came in. It had been late afternoon, just like now and Ben had been alone in the shop. Clem had left early that day, he couldn’t remember why, and this lean, toned, thick wavy chestnut-haired piece of tall, dark and drop dead gorgeous walked through the door. Ben had been absently chewing a mouthful of cheese and ham croissant at the time and nearly choked on it when he locked eyes with the stranger and his mouth dried up quicker than the Sahara in a sandstorm.
“Roll up your tongue,” Clem mumbled beside him.
“Shut up.” Ben took his notepad out of his pocket and squared his shoulders.
“Need a breath mint?”
Ben ignored Clem’s snicker and prayed he wouldn’t trip over his own feet on the way to the man’s table. Brown-Eyes looked up from the menu as he approached and, if Ben was given to whimsical prose, he would’ve sworn his knees trembled. Hell, who was he kidding? Everything trembled. He cleared his throat and stood, pen poised over the blank page of his notepad.
“Welcome to Perkatory, what can I get you?” Clearing his throat hadn’t made a damn bit of difference, he still sounded as though he’d sucked hard on a balloon full of helium.
“I’ll have a white coffee and a blue—”
“Berry muffin?” Ben finished for him. Brown-Eyes smiled and Ben’s cock pressed against his zipper as heat shot through him.
“Am I that predictable?”
Ben returned his smile. “It does seem to be your thing.”
“Okay….” Brown-Eyes leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His gaze lazily drifted over Ben from tip to toe, touching on his name tag, before he said with a definite suggestive lilt. “… Ben. What would you recommend?”
Oh so many things… is what Ben thought, but what he actually said was, “The cinnamon and pumpkin muffins are good, if you’re looking for something with a little bite. Or the pumpkin cheesecake if you need to satisfy a sweet tooth.”
“Pumpkin cheesecake?” Brown-Eyes’ eyebrow tilted just a fraction as he added, “Will I be satisfied?”
“I can guarantee it.” The words were out of Ben’s mouth before he could stop them. What the hell was he doing flirting with a customer? Not that the customer in question seemed to mind. In fact, those deep brown eyes flashed fire as they rested for a tad too long than was perhaps proper on Ben’s crotch—thankfully hidden by his apron.
“Then how can I refuse?”
Ben blushed warmly and cleared his throat again. Maybe he was coming down with something? What? Sex-on-a-stick syndrome? Ben ignored his inner voice and scribbled the order down on his pad. “Coming right up,” he said briskly and turned on his heel before the wet noodles that had replaced his legs collapsed on him completely.
Ben did his best to avoid Clem’s gaze, as he took a mug off the shelf beside the coffee machine and put a paper coaster with the shop’s logo on the saucer. He could feel the son of a bitch staring at him as he filled the mug with freshly percolated coffee then added a dash of milk. Didn’t need to look at Clem to know he was smirking, so he continued with his task without a word, cutting a generous piece of cheesecake and putting it on a plate. He remained focused straight ahead as he sprinkled chocolate over the cheesecake and added a couple of slices of strawberry to garnish. Clem was willing him to look at him, even give him the teeniest of glances, but he was not going to cave. If he did, any attempt at being the slightest bit cool would crumble around him and leave him a bumbling mess with flushed cheeks and sneakers full of butt sweat.
“Enjoy,” Ben said with as natural a smile as he could manage as he placed the cheesecake and coffee in front of Brown-Eyes. Then he walked back to the counter and busied himself at the dishwasher.
“My God.
“Shut up.”
Thankfully Clem lowered his voice. “Do you have a penis?”
Ben groaned inwardly and finally met Clem’s gaze. “Do you have any boundaries?”
“Surprisingly, no.” Clem glanced over at the table where the customer was practically inhaling the cheesecake Ben had served him. “What are you wigging out for? He’s a hottie and he’s giving you the green light. Take the stick outta your ass and live a little.”

Sunday, 30 October 2016

Step Back in Time Sunday

We've not had one of these for a while so...

As he has announced his big comeback tour, it seems only appropriate to feature Mr Collins this week. In the Air Tonight is my favourite of Phil's songs and triggers wonderful memories. I hope it does the same for you this Halloween weekend. Enjoy....