Saturday, 31 May 2014

Blog Tour: DRONE STRIKE A Dreamland Thriller BY DALE BROWN & JIM DEFELICE + Giveaway (US/Canada only)


“…Brown and DeFelice are at the top of their game…The pages fly by as fast as the quicksilver drones while Turk faces one exciting, life-threatening complication after another.” – STARRED review, Publisher’s Weekly

On the President's orders . . . one man is tasked with averting nuclear war

The incomparable Dale Brown and co-author Jim DeFelice send the Dreamland team back into action in DRONE STRIKE, (Harper Mass Market; May 27, 2014; ISBN: 9780062122827; $9.99) the 15th book in their aviation thriller series.


In the Nevada desert, the high-tech future of warfare is being conceived and constructed at a top-secret military facility called Dreamland. Its team has used stealth, raw nerve, and technology to defuse nightmares all across the globe. But when the United States develops intelligence indicating that the Iranians are in the final stages of assembling a nuclear bomb, the President orders Dreamland’s Whiplash team to destroy it. Young Air Force ace Turk Mako must pilot a nano-UAV attack from a ground base within Iranian territory. In the face of intense resistance, Turk and a Delta Force team succeed in destroying the target—only to find that there are two more secret nuclear sites, and at least one that contains a device.

Forced to improvise, Turk and his escorts fight their way through Iranian ground and Air Force defenses led by an elite Quds force member to the secret site. With the fate of the Middle East and the world hanging in the balance, Turk must ensure the destruction of the Iranian nuclear program—possibly at the cost of his own life.

DRONE STRIKE is a riveting adventure from two acknowledged masters at the top of their form—combining political intrigue, cutting edge military technology, and ripped-from-the-headlines immediacy.


About the Authors:

Dale Brown is the author of numerous New York Times bestsellers, starting with Flight of the Old Dog in 1987, and most recently Tiger’s Claw. A former U.S. Air Force captain, he can often be found flying his own plane over the skies of Nevada.

Jim DeFelice is the co-author of the #1 New York Times bestseller American Sniper, as well as the New York Times bestseller Code Name: Johnny Walker. DeFelice is the author of Omar Bradley: General at War, the first in-depth critical biography of America’s last five-star general. He also writes a number of acclaimed military thrillers, including the Rogue Warrior series from Richard Marcinko, founder of SEAL Team 6, as well as the Dreamland series.


Buy Links: AMAZON / B&N.COM


 OF COLLATERAL DAMAGE (previous Dreamland thriller)

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Thursday, 29 May 2014



Contemporary Romance/Chick Lit
Date Published: December 2012

For the last fifteen years, Rose “Manny” Mankowski has been a very good girl. She turned her back on her youthful fancies and focused on her career. But now, at the age of 45, she's questioning her choices and feeling more and more disconnected from her own life. When she's passed over for promotion and her much younger new boss implies Manny's life will never change, something snaps. In the blink of an eye, she's quit her job, sold her house and cashed in her pension, and she's leaving town on a six month road trip.

After placing a personal ad for a travelling companion, she's joined in her mid-life crisis by Zeke Powell, the cynical, satirical, most-read – and most controversial – blogger for the e-magazine, What Women Want. Zeke's true goal is to expose Manny's journey as a pitiful and desperate attempt to reclaim her lost youth – and increase his readership at the same time. Leaving it all behind for six months is just an added bonus.

Now, armed with a bagful of destinations, a fistful of maps, and an out-spoken imaginary friend named Harvey, Manny's on a quest to rediscover herself – and taking Zeke along for the ride.


Manny laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for sleep. She plucked restlessly atthe blanket and wished she could relax. Tomorrow was Steph’s first staff meeting. Today she’d reacquainted herself with everyone in the office then spent the rest of the day with Manny being briefed on the details of the work of the branch and any current issues she’d need to resolve within the next few days. That meant Manny’s own work had been delayed, and tomorrow it would be delayed again–and Manny would have to leave early in order to meet Rebecca and Daisy at the lounge for drinks before heading to the club.

Manny took a deep breath and slowly let it out. It wouldn’t be too bad, she staunchly told herself.

Steph was young, energetic, and had a shrewd intelligence almost obscured by the cleavage-revealing shirts, short skirts and a figure that could stop traffic–and probably did. Manny wondered if Craig truly understood what he’d gotten himself in for by promoting Steph rather than Manny.

Cleavage and legs.

She mentally rolled her eyes at Harvey’s dry, cynical tones.

Maybe–but that’s not really fair to him, is it? He’s not a bad guy.

But he is just a guy.

She does bring a new perspective–a new way of thinking about things. She’s not a bad choice–and I can’t argue with Craig’s idea that shaking things up could make things better.

And where does that leave you?

No worse off than I was before.

And no better.

If you’re not going to be helpful...

Harvey glanced down at his suddenly ruffled shirt opened to the middle of his muscled chest and skin-tight breeches. He glanced back at her with a ruefully amused smile.

Watched the Ice Pirates again, did you?

Oh, shut up–it’s a classic no matter what anybody else thinks!

I’m just sayin’–if I was real and regularly wore pants this tight, I’m not sure I’d be of any use to you. If you know what I mean.

Manny groaned and shook her head, and Harvey blinked out of existence. She wondered when she’d managed to lose control of a figment of her imagination–one she’d eventually felt compelled to name after an invisible rabbit.

She groaned again, rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. It was going to be another long day tomorrow.

Complete with dancing. 


Victoria Bernadine

Victoria Bernadine (a pseudonym) is, as the saying goes, a “woman of a certain age”. After 
twenty-something years of writer’s block, she began writing again in 2008. 

Victoria enjoys reading all genres and particularly loves writing romantic comedy and post-
apocalyptic science fiction. What those two have in common is anybody's guess. 

She lives in Edmonton with her two cats (The Grunt and The Runt). A Life Less Ordinary is the 
first novel she felt was good enough to be released into the wild.

Twitter: @vicbernadine


Buy Links


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Monday, 26 May 2014

Guest Post by NLB HORTON: Author of WHEN CAMELS FLY


Publisher: NLBHorton, via Amazon's White Glove (May 15, 2014)
Agent:  Mary Keeley at Books & Such Literary Management
Category: Contemporary suspense, thread of Romance
Tour Date: May/June, 2014 Cover Reveal: April, 2014
Available in: Print & ebook, 370 Pages

A mother's fatal shot. A daughter's deadly choice.

In Israel, archaeologist Grace Madison shoots her daughter's abductor. Seconds later, a handsome shepherd drops from the sky to kill a second assassin. Their world changes in two blinks of an eye.

Unbeknownst to them, a fiercely ambitious evil is destroying everything in its path-the unconventional path Grace and Maggie take. They struggle to right a wrong as old as time, and discover time is running out in the race for their lives. Family and friends are swept into their vortex, extinguishing old flames while igniting new loves.

While the scale tips dangerously toward disaster, millions of lives hang in the balance. And the mother-and-daughter team soon realizes nothing is as it seems. Even each other.

Because choosing what's right is all that's left.


Carole's Book Corner is delighted to be part of Premier Virtual Author Book Tours and today When Camels Fly by NLB Horton is on Tour and has kindly written a Guest Post for me!

When Camels Fly by NLBHorton

Every publicist I interviewed to facilitate the launch of When Camels Fly was curious about the title, and development of the cover and back-cover copy. Bloggers (one being Carole) asked about these marketing elements, too. While answering their questions, I realized that the cover was doing its job really well if it triggered this much interest. I really appreciate Carole giving me the opportunity to share my observations about the cover with you.

Once upon a time…
When Camels Fly was a lowly file in my computer. It took six months to write, and longer than I’ll admit to reach “professional quality.” The working title (no, I won’t tell you) was a bit of a dud, and a tad academic. As my protagonist’s sense of humor began to shine through, I knew that the story deserved a new, more intriguing title.

That’s when the real trouble began.

My partner in crime in this endeavor, my daughter, and I beat on the title for months over pots of tea in my office. We were, in the lingo of Jeff Madison (my protagonist’s son), epic failures. It didn’t matter if we brought in Scottish shortbread cookies, or baked blueberry bread to encourage our little grey cells to work during these brainstorming sessions. We were stuck.

Silly me. We used the wrong libation.

She and I were sipping glasses of good French champagne when the title trauma resurfaced at the end of the Thanksgiving meal. After a flute, we didn’t care too much, and got a little silly. Then she, of the serious engineering degree, said something about flying camels. I, having consumed less champagne, said, “That’s it! When Camels Fly!” We giggled, and my eight-something (do specifics really matter in your eighth decade?) mother poured more all around. I worked the new title into the manuscript the next week.

All the world may be a stage, but not everybody’s an artist.
My background is in marketing and advertising, and I’ve been privileged to develop some beautiful campaigns. Many authors rely on self-publishing house to design a cover, or take a shot at it themselves using public-domain images, clip art, and Photoshop.

Because I knew the cover would trigger the first click or reach for work by an unknown author, I wanted a Big-Six-publishing-house-quality cover. That means I paid for it.

I lurked in bookstores, watching to see what people picked up. I wandered the stacks to determine what appealed to me. I asked questions of my book-club friends and beta readers (who range from eighteen to octogenarian). I did a LOT of online research about the genres that sell best, and how covers in those genres are designed. Then I put together a team that’s created more than one New York Times best-selling novel cover, and organized my thoughts to do the art direction I used to do for marketing campaigns.

The cover was easy and seamless, and my team is now working on the second cover in the series, for The Brothers’ Keepers, due out November 17th. (I should note that this title did NOT require champagne. However, the book club Readers Guide at the back of When Camels Fly did.)

The Elevator Pitch (or “Why I hate writing headlines”).
When I was a journalism student (when we set type by hand and dinosaurs roamed the earth), I hated writing headlines. How could I condense an article into four or five noteworthy words? Impossible!

About halfway through the writing of When Camels Fly, I signed up for a craftsman level fiction-writing practicum, a one-year adventure with some of the most talented people this side of Hemingway’s grave. And guess what? We had to develop something called the elevator pitch, which essentially meant that if I trapped a publishing executive in an elevator (it is not beneath me), how well could I sell my work between floors? Yep. It’s a verbal headline offering the gist of When Camels Fly in an intriguing fashion.

So I flexed my old ad-copy muscles, grabbed the elevator pitch, and tried to compose the most compelling, powerful back-cover copy since…well, since dinosaurs roamed the earth. I’ll end this guest blog with it, and thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts about my cover. I hope you join me in the adventures of archaeologist Grace Madison in When Camels Fly, and look forward to hearing from you.

A mother’s fatal shot. A daughter’s deadly choice.

In Israel, archaeologist Grace Madison shoots her daughter’s abductor moments before a handsome shepherd falls from the sky to kill a second assassin. Running for their lives, they pursue an evil prepared to sacrifice millions of people. Endangering family and friends, and confronting old loves, the mother-and-daughter team soon realizes nothing is as it seems. Even each other.
When all that’s left is right.


About NLB Horton:

After an award-winning detour through journalism and marketing and a graduate degree from Dallas Theological Seminary, NLBHorton returned to writing fiction. She has surveyed Israeli archaeological digs accompanied by artillery rounds from Syria and machine gun fire from Lebanon. Explored Machu Picchu after training with an Incan shaman. And consumed afternoon tea across five continents.

When Camels Fly is her first novel. Her second, The Brothers' Keepers, will be available November 2014.


Available to buy from:


Follow the Tour: 

Indie Reviews Behind the Scenes May 7 Live Interview-Recorded 
Teddy Rose Book Reviews May 12 Excerpt & Giveaway 
Miki’s Hope May 13 Review
Little Black Marks May 15 Review
Inspire to Read  May 19 Review
Cassandra M’s Place May 20 Review & Giveaway
Deal Sharing Aunt May 22 Review & Guest Post (postponed)
Teddy Rose Book Reviews May 23 Review
Carole’s Book Corner May 26 Guest Post
Back Porchervations May 27 Review & Guest Post
Open Book Society May 28 Review
Pinky’s Favorite Reads May 29 Interview
Two Children and a Migraine May 30 Review, Guest Post & Giveaway
Romance that’s ‘Out Of This World’ June 3 Guest Post & Giveaway
My Devotional Thoughts June 4 Review & Interview
Elizabeth McKenna Romance Author June 5 Interview
From L.A. to LA June 6 Review & Giveaway
Musings From Sri Lanka June 9 Review
Books and Bindings June 11 Review, Interview, & Giveaway
Bless Their Hearts Mom June 13 Review
CelticLady’s Reviews June 16 Review
Bound 4 Escape June 17 Review
Little Whimsy Books June 18 Guest Post
Serendipity June 20 Review
Kim Heart of a Philanthropist June 23 Interview & Giveaway
Mary’s Cup of Tea June 24 Review
Story Matters June 26 Review & Giveaway

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Saturday, 24 May 2014



Publisher -- Headline
Published -- 27 Mar 2014
Pages --  352
Genre -- Historical Fiction


May Day 1646. The Civil War is raging and what should be a rare moment of blessing for the town of Ely takes a brutal turn. Ruth Flowers is left with little choice but to flee the household of Oliver Cromwell, the only home she has ever known. On the road to London, Ruth sparks an uneasy alliance with a soldier, the battle-scarred and troubled Joseph. But when she reaches the city, it's in the Poole household that she finds refuge.
Lizzie Poole, beautiful and charismatic, enthrals the vulnerable Ruth, who binds herself inextricably to Lizzie's world. But in these troubled times, Ruth is haunted by fears of her past catching up with her. And as Lizzie's radical ideas escalate, Ruth finds herself carried to the heart of the country's conflict, to the trial of a king.

Beauty and brutality: with the vibrancy of Sarah Dunant and a gothic touch, Katherine Clements conjures the extraordinary women you never knew about in the turbulent years of the English Civil War.


In The Crimson Ribbon debut author Katherine Clements links the real figures of Lizzie Poole and Oliver Cromwell with Ruth Flowers, fictional narrator, whose life is turned upside down when a tragic and brutal incident involving her mother forces her to leave her old life behind and flee to London.

Finding work in the Poole household she meets and becomes beguiled by Lizzie, the master's daughter, who has the loveliest face Ruth has ever seen.

The novel deals mainly with the close and complex relationship between Ruth and Lizzie, particularly of Ruth's obsession with Lizzie.

Joseph Oakes, Army deserter, who met Ruth when they were both travelling to London, is smitten with her but her bonds to Lizzie are strong

This was a time of unrest and suspicion, the people were fearful of the plague and of witchcraft, witches were being hunted and hanged weekly. Their king is on the run from Parliament's New Model Army (who's General was Cromwell), and no-one knew who to trust.  Pamphlets are freely distributed with all the gossip about the king.  Gossip is not just reserved for the king, Lizzie is also being talked about and not in a kindly way due to her radical views.

I liked Ruth enormously, she grew in confidence and had more strength than she thought she had, she knew her own mind, was observant and clever, with the ability to suss people out.   A skill she needed at times.

This was an interesting read, seeing a different side to Oliver Cromwell, well-researched, well-written and held my attention from the first dramatic chapter to the last.  Thoroughly recommended.

Source:  Thanks to the publishers via NetGalley in exchange for a fair and honest review.

Available from:  (Free Delivery Worldwide)

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Friday, 23 May 2014


Science Fiction / Humor / Romance

Date Published: November 19, 2013

The future is no place to fall in love. 
Amazing advances in technology have all but replaced relationships. People can purchase spouses programmed to their individual tastes and desires, anything from an aversion to expensive guilt gifts to perfumed flatulence. Attachments are even available for the more discriminating customers. Anyone can have anyone they want, as long as they don’t want someone who looks like someone else. That’s against the law. It could also make things a little awkward at social events.
For one man, technology is not enough. He is a Telepathic Vacuum Cleaner Salesperson Policeman, and he wants to fall in love with a real woman. Like most men, he is not perfect. He has no name. He had to give up that up when he became a policeman. He is terribly afraid of roller coasters. And he doesn’t have any attachments.
When he finds the woman of his dreams, she is not what he expected. Like most women, she doesn’t feel the same way about him. She has a spouse certified to be her perfect mate. And she is in prison. The policeman had her arrested, because she is one of the most wanted criminals in his world.
Now, the policeman has to choose between everything he is and everything he wants.
The future is no place to fall in love.



“You wanted to see me?” she asked, catching the implication and pushing it further, “Why?”
He looked away and then back at her. He knew she was playing with him, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. He would have much rather been trapped on a public coaster with his eyes wide open at that moment than answer her question. “I wanted to see you today...” he struggled, and she let him. He stared at the slight grin on her face and wanted so bad to reach out and kiss those lips. “...because I wanted to ask you if I could see you tonight.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Her eyes stared directly at his.
He couldn’t avoid her, and part of him didn’t want to. She had truly beautiful eyes, eyes that sparkled with a little badness. He swallowed and tried to meet her stare, though the rest of him was quivering. “Yes. I’m asking you out...on a date.” He licked his lips and swallowed again. He wondered why he was doing this. She was married. Though he wondered why, he knew the answer, because she was beautiful, because she hadn’t asked for his name.
She grinned and looked away. “You know, I don’t even know your name. I’m Nulla.”
‘She had to ask!’ he cried inside. He met her without quiver, with a reluctant fear masked as strength. “Nulla, there are some questions I will admit that I won’t want to answer, and those, I promise you, I will try my best to answer. But there are some things I simply can’t tell you. My name is one of them.”
“You can’t tell me your name? You’re like a man of mystery then, huh?” she grinned.
He said nothing. He was too busy hoping she could get past this.
“That’s one thing I haven’t had in my life for a long long time. So I’ll see you sometime tonight?” She smiled, and only two of the fourteen nipples that covered her breasts glowed.
His breath fell out of his mouth like a brick. “Yes. Tonight.”


David J. Rollins

David J. Rollins is a paralegal by day, husband by night, and sometimes finds time to write. As a young man, he had had different plans, but that’s the way life works out most of the time.

David has been writing since Seventh Grade. He started with the adventures of Super Pimp and his sidekick Squirt. His hero was Philip K. Dick, who strangely enough did not write about things like Pimps and Squirts. Like any fan, David wanted to follow in his hero’s footsteps. Unlike most fans, he wanted to follow them even after finding out that his hero, at one point in his life, was so poor that he resorted to eating dog food. What David lacked in aspirations, he made up for in determination.

From those humble beginnings, David became the man he is today. He is happier than he ever thought he would be and is living a life he never imagined in his wildest dreams. And that’s the way David’s life worked out. He was and is very lucky.

As further proof of his luck, David has lost every one of the stories about Super Pimp and his sidekick Squirt. He has also never had to eat dog food. 

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Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Book Review: A MORAL DILEMMA BY ZARA KINGSLEY Tour + ecopy & Amazon Gift Card Giveaway


Carole's Book Corner is delighted to be part of Fiction Addiction's Book Tours and today a Moral Dilemma by Zara Kingsley is on Tour!


Rebecca Hardy wasn’t a naturally deceptive person, though she took quite well to the art
of deception. Too well perhaps. She liked to think of it as helping someone out. Female
camaraderie and all that. But it had gone too far. She had gone too far. She had, after all,
ruined someone’s life. Hadn’t she?
Having theatrically caught her boyfriend cheating, Rebecca, convinced she was born in the
wrong era, has had it with these modern day men. She has even less regard for these immoral
modern day women, (of which she highly suspects her best female friend Abigail is one),
who tend to prey on men in committed relationships. What is wrong with them?! Don’t they
care that they’re breaking hearts and destroying lives?! Rebecca, with her high morals and
family values, would never even consider dating a married man. Which is exactly why, it
is of no surprise her friends are at serious odds, when Rebecca finds herself doing exactly
that. Dating a married man. Albeit, at the fervent request of his wife; the notorious Isabella

Fiction Addiction Book Tours


In A Moral Dilemma Rebecca's best friends thinks she's just an old-fashioned girl in gorgeous modern day packaging and a boring old frump.  When she catches her boyfriend cheating on her their words seem to ring true in that she doesn't know how to keep a man happy,

When one of her wealthy clients at the exclusive Pamper Moi Beauty Salon offers her a huge amount of money to test her husband's unfaithfulness she is in a moral dilemma.

I think it's fair to say that this is not one of my favourite reads.  It just did not hold my interest, I thought the pacing was a little slow in parts, particularly the first part of the book.  I did not find it funny. It did pick up slightly when Rebecca met the wealthy Isabella Coombs' husband and there were some fun moments but overall this book and I were just not made for each other!

On the plus side, I really liked Rebecca, she was very moral, loyal, honest and the sort of person I would love to have as a best friend.

I know this is a popular read and if you want to read a more positive review check out Tea Party Princess as she really enjoyed it and she's done a fab review.


Also, check out this excerpt from the first chapter.


I had to do it. He’d left me with no other conceivable choice. He seemed intent on driving
me crazy, turning me into a dithering, pathetic, neurotic maniac. The lying toe-rag!!
“Becky, sweetie,” he would gently croon, whenever I’d mention the distinct scent of
Dior about him. “It’s all in your imagination. You know you’re the only one for me.” Then
more vigorously, “What the bloody hell is wrong with you!” when confronted with the
unmistakable evidence of lippie on his shirt collar. “You really are going stark raving mad.”
And I thought I was. For a while. His reverse psychology skills were second to none. So I
made a decision to either prove myself sane, or allow myself to be declared insane! I set
about achieving mission (according-to-him) impossible, and catch him in the act.

I’d always fancied myself as a bit of an actress. I was still dancing around my bedroom
at home, singing merrily into the hairbrush when I was sixteen years old! Yes, Annie had
definitely left its mark on me. In fact, after watching that film, for the remainder of my
childhood, I had wanted to be Annie (without the ginger hair and freckles, of course). I
desperately wanted to be rescued by Mr Squillion Billion Dollar Man and have a dog called
Rufus. Needless to say I never got rescued – but I definitely ended up with the dog. His
name is Jeremy. And today I caught him cheating. So tonight, I’m kicking his lying toe-rag
arse out of our apartment.

OK, I say I caught him cheating; well he wasn’t actually in the full throes of fornication
or anything like that. It was more of a…foreplay situation, which in my world still counts. So
how did I catch him? Well, like I said, I’ve always fancied myself as a bit of an actress, so;
black bobbed wig, reading glasses, camcorder – hired not bought – even less make-up than
usual, i.e. basically none, so as not to draw attention to myself, and a shot of brandy (YUK)
for Dutch courage.

Wheelers, was an average enough, discreet British pub, on an average enough discreet City
street, and was also Jeremy’s choice location for a not so discreet illicit tryst.
“Look, would you be ordering something or not lass?” the barman asked me with a
slight Irish accent.

Shoo shoo shoo I had wanted to say, but for fear of him drawing any more attention to
me, and in light of the fact that he was actually blocking my view of Jeremy and Miss Thingy,
I quickly deduced that I had in fact better order something. “Coke please,” I snapped off,
throwing down a fiver.

“Diet or regular?”

Oh for chrissakes, will you just move! Aargh! “Regular!”


“No!” rolling my eyes. He actually seemed to be enjoying this little exchange. Maybe
he knew Jeremy and knew what both he and I were up to?! No. Not possible.


“Look, can you get me a coke or not?” I hissed.

“OK, OK, keep yer knickers on,” he said smiling cheekily and finally turned to go get
me a drink. I quickly realigned myself to get a better view over the bar and through the
window to the courtyard where Jeremy, the bastard, and Thingy were sitting extremely
close to each other and laughing easily at this point. Still not incriminating evidence, but
the night was young. I saw Jeremy lean into her and started talking into her ear. I would’ve
said ‘whispering’ but he didn’t know how to whisper sweet nothings at the best of times
let alone after he’d had a few, which by the way his face was flushed and his tie, usually
perfectly positioned, was loosened and off centre, he obviously had.

“There you go now. Coke and change,” said the barman. I ignored him and continued
fidgeting with my camcorder, hidden behind by handbag, whilst still keeping a sharp eye
on the fornicators. “Pity you don’t get to catch the conversation with those things from a

“Excuse me?!”

“You need to get up real close to them to record conversation.”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about,” I said turning beetroot, and
started to scuffle about with the camcorder, desperately trying to stuff it back into my bag.
“Oh,” he leaned back comfortably against the bar, folded up his arms and nodded
toward Jeremy and Thingy. “I thought for a sec you were spying on that pair.”

“I beg your pardon?!” trying my best to sound alarmed but at the same time careful
not to draw any attention to myself…

“Oh, it’s no skin off my nose either way,” he said, “but let’s assume you were spying
on that pair.”

“Which I am most definitely not!” I said furiously, whilst still trying to shove my
camcorder back into my bag, but what, with my current state of panic and the fact that
every time my head bent down my wig was starting to slip forward, I couldn’t quite manage

“Ah, but, if you were, you’d be doing it all wrong.” I looked up at him from under the
fringe of my wig. “You’re too far away to even know what’s going on.”

“As I’ve already told you, I am not spying on anyone. But IF I were, I am able to see
quite clearly exactly what’s going on.”

“Ah jaysus, you can’t tell a thing from what you see. They could just be having a great
crack, with nothin’ in it at all.”

“Oh he’s having a crack all right.” I slumped on the bar, completely fed up, with the
camcorder sticking out recklessly from my bag. I’d given up trying to tuck it away, just as
I’d given up trying to film them. He was right of course. The barman. The footage I’d so
painstakingly gathered proved nothing at all. Jeremy would be able to talk his way out
of this one in a nano-second, and I knew that I’d believe whatever he would tell me, as
per usual, because although I had doubts, many, many doubts, I never ever had any real
concrete evidence of any disloyalty. We watched them silently for a few seconds, but when
Jeremy slipped his hand up Miss Thingy’s skirt and started talking into her ear again, I just
squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to see, and so the barman couldn’t see the tears
of humiliation that were starting to well up.

“Look, just pass it here,” he said reaching out his hand to me.


“The camcorder. I’ll get up close and record what they’re saying for yer.” I gave
an incredulous stare and opened my mouth to say something, then as if on autopilot, I
handed him the camcorder. “Ah, you can thank me later,” he said with a wink. And was off.

Headed in their direction with the camcorder hidden underneath a bar towel on a tray. My
heart started hammering against my ribcage and I wanted to dive under the bar and hide as
he got to their table and started hovering, collecting glasses, wiping, and re-placing
ashtrays. I half expected Jeremy to look up and wave at me but he didn’t even notice the
barman floating around. Too engrossed in impressing Miss Thingy, which by the way she
was giggling and batting her false eye lashes at each word he uttered, seemed easy enough
to do. I looked at her. She was the complete opposite to me in every sense. Blonde,
curvaceous, overly made up. She looked around twenty-eight but was probably twenty-four,
whereas I may look twenty-four but am actually twenty-eight. She wasn’t so special. Fake
hair, fake tits, fake tan. She was exactly the kind of girl that Jeremy would frequently refer
to as “just a bit of fluff”. He would never betray me with just a bit of fluff… Would he? All of
a sudden I knew that I did not want to know the answer to that question. I realised that I
have never ever really wanted to know. I could live with my doubts. We had a good life
together. He did love me, (albeit in his own bizarre way), and never made me feel anything
other than number one…at least whilst he was in my presence. But that was OK. I could deal
with that. What, I suddenly realised, I could not deal with, and more importantly did not
want to deal with, was the actual factual knowledge that Jeremy, the man with whom I have
built a wonderful life with and am expecting to grow graciously old with, would cheat on
me. Because unlike a doubt which I can quite simply cast away to the back of my mind and
allow it to gather cobwebs, a ‘fact’ would be a different matter altogether. A ‘fact’, a real life
evidential fact, would most definitely need to be addressed. I felt a sudden stab of horror at
that realisation; and started flapping my hands about like a maniac trying to catch the
barman’s attention.

“Come Back! Come Back!” I mouthed in animation, but he just ignored me and moved
to the other side of the table so he was standing right beside Jeremy as he moved in for
another close-up with Miss Thingy. I watched the barman, wondering if he could hear what
they were saying, and I swear I practically expired when I saw him shake a heavy head in

The barman looked at me with an unfortunately sombre face as he came back to the
bar. “Er, look lass, it’s none of my business…but is he your fella?”

“Yes. He is my boyfriend,” I said indignantly, and as he looked down with tight lips, I
added with upturned chin, “Of several years in fact.”

“Right. Well…maybe you don’t really want to be listening to what’s on here then.” He
tapped the camcorder and gave me a sympathetic look that knocked the wind out of me. He
felt sorry for me. And he felt sorry for me because of what he’d heard Jeremy say to Miss
Thingy? I inhaled deeply and stared at him defiantly, though I’m not sure why, as it really
wasn’t his fault my boyfriend was a lying cheating toe-rag.

“It’s my camcorder and I shall bloody well listen to it if I so choose.” I feigned calmness
as I placed the evidential camcorder into my bag and hopped down off the bar stool.

“You might want to have a…friend…come sit with you as you watch it though.” I
swallowed hard and tried blinking really fast, but it was already too late. One must always
be grateful for the small mercies in life, I said to myself, thinking at least I wouldn’t end up
with panda eyes as there was no mascara to smudge. I nodded my thanks to the barman
and turned to leave, but not before taking one last look at the joyful Jeremy, now nestling
into Thingy’s neck. Jeremy. Humph. The love of my life.


About the Author

Luckily Zara Kingsley was born and raised in a City she loves living in: London, UK. And it’s
just as well, as she can barely afford to go on a camping holiday much less move. She has
an adorable 9yr old daughter, and is a single mom, who likes to think of herself as a bit of
a yummy mummy, when in reality she’s still working on shifting a tonne of cellulite of her
ass. She does actually make it into the gym from time to time, but admits that such visits are
mainly to appreciate the…ahem …view

So what kind of stuff does she write?

Well, she writes what she loves reading: Romantic Comedy and the original kind of British
Chick Lit. She doesn’t do vampires, werewolves, or horror. So if you like Bridget Jones or
Shopaholic, then you might dig her stuff.

Zara Kingsley’s heroines are women in their late twenties / early thirties. Her heroes are hot,
cute and not too hunky. Her stories are about life, love and friendship, with a few twists and
turns and tons of fun. They’re not particularly deep, nor meaningful, they’re a light-hearted,
easy read, that go well with a glass of wine and a few chocs, and just might make you laugh
out loud.


Buy Links

Amazon UK:

Amazon USA:

Overall giveaway on tour is 1 x ecopy of A Moral Dilemma plus Amazon GC $35/£20.

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