Category Archives: Extract

Spotlight – Things A Bright Girl Can Do by Sally Nicholls

Today, 7th September 2017, is the publication day of the wonderful Things A Bright Girl Can Do by Sally Nicholls and I am over the moon to be kicking of the blog tour for this amazing book with the opening chapter of the book!

Things A Bright Girl Can Do tells the story of three girls, Evelyn, May and Nell, caught up in the Suffragette movement and has had rave reviews already!

So sit back, relax and read this extract from the opening chapter…

Through rallies and marches, in polite drawing rooms and freezing prison cells and the poverty-stricken slums of the East End, three courageous young women join the fight for the vote.

Evelyn is seventeen, and though she is rich and clever, she may never be allowed to follow her older brother to university. Enraged that she is expected to marry her childhood sweetheart rather than be educated, she joins the Suffragettes, and vows to pay the ultimate price for women’s freedom.

May is fifteen, and already sworn to the cause, though she and her fellow Suffragists refuse violence. When she meets Nell, a girl who’s grown up in hardship, she sees a kindred spirit. Together and in love, the two girls start to dream of a world where all kinds of women have their place.

But the fight for freedom will challenge Evelyn, May and Nell more than they ever could believe. As war looms, just how much are they willing to sacrifice?

Extract

You can buy a copy of Things A Bright Girl Can Do here or from your local bookshop!

You can find a previous Q&A with Sally on Tales here

About Sally Nicholls

I was born in Stockton-on-Tees, just after midnight, in a thunderstorm. My father died when I was two, and my brother Ian and I were brought up my mother. I always wanted to write – when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I used to say “I’m going to be a writer” – very definite.

I live in a small house in Oxford with my husband and little boy.

You can find out more about Sally on her website – www.sallynicholls.com

You can follow Sally on twitter – @Sally_Nicholls

Blog Tour

You can follow the rest of this fab blog tour at the following stops!

#ThingsABrightGirlCanDo

A huge big thank you to Harriet at Andersen for asking me to be part of and kick off this fab blog tour and to Sally for such a fab book!

Have you read Things A Bright Girl Can Do? Did you enjoy? What do you love about historical fiction? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of the post or tweet me on twitter using @ChelleyToy !

Happy Reading!

Spotlight – I Know Where She Is by S. B. Caves

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I am thrilled to have been asked to feature a chilling extract from new adult thriller, I Know Where She Is by debut author S. B. Caves as part of this fab blog tour.

I Know Where She Is was released on the 14th August 2017 on e book published by Canelo and is set to be an explosive gripping thriller for fans of Karin Slaughter, Linwood Barclay and Karen Dionne.

So today I am shining the light on this gorgeous book and sharing that chilling extract…..

On the tenth anniversary of her daughter Autumn’s abduction, Francine receives an anonymous note containing just five words: I KNOW WHERE SHE IS

When a young woman approaches her the next day claiming to have sent the letter Francine wants to dismiss it as a cruel, twisted joke.

But the stranger knows things that only Autumn would know.

It soon becomes clear that Francine must go to dark places in order to learn the truth about her child’s kidnapping.

She will discover that danger comes from unexpected sources. She will do things she never imagined herself capable of.

But will Francine get her daughter back – or is it too late?

I Know Where She Is – Extract

Chapter 2

At five a.m., a full two hours before her alarm was due to sound, Francine kicked out of the twisted sheets and got dressed. She wasn’t sure whether she’d dozed at all, but guessed that she’d probably managed to snatch a few minutes of shallow sleep. Her mind had whirred incessantly, the caffeine and anxious excitement making it impossible for her to switch off.

It was still pitch black as she drove to the gym, but it had stopped raining. It wasn’t unusual for her to put a shift in on the free weights before work, but today she’d given herself enough time to swim too. The pool didn’t open until seven, so she did the rounds on the cross-trainer, the treadmill – upping the incline almost vertically – and her usual dumb-bell routine. All the while she’d been eyeing the punchbag. She’d always wanted to use it but couldn’t trust herself not to scream as she unloaded on it. She wasn’t really sure how to go about hitting the thing, but the place was virtually empty, so she could afford to look silly. She picked up a pair of gloves that lay by the side and slipped them on, then gave the bag a few jabs for practice. It felt good. Once she’d settled into a rhythm, the volume of punches increased, as did their ferocity. Soon her arms were throbbing and her lungs flamed inside her. She punched until she could no longer lift her hands, her slick forehead resting against the bag.

Afterwards, she swam for an hour without stopping. She couldn’t remember ever having done that before, especially after such a strenuous workout, but she wanted to push her body until she’d burned all that anxiety to cinders.

Her body was a patchwork of pain by the time she sat down at her desk. It was as though she’d given her mind a spring-clean, sifting all that sludge, and now she could focus. She worked solidly through to lunch, processing invoices and sending out reminders, only stopping to confer with colleagues where absolutely necessary. All of the six employees crammed into the tiny back office of Worldwide Golfing Supplies knew Francine’s story, and they had never tried to engage her beyond routine chit-chat. That suited her fine. When she’d first started, one of the other accountants, a divorcee named Henry who drank lots of black coffee and ate neatly cut ham sandwiches for lunch, asked her if she would like to go for a drink some time. Francine offered him only sincerity in her reply: no, she didn’t want to go for a drink – not now, not ever. She hoped her expression would dissuade any future attempts at courtship. He didn’t ask again.

As usual, she left her desk and went for a stroll during her lunch hour. She stopped at Starbucks for a cappuccino and bought a newspaper from the corner store before walking to her car. She liked having lunch in her car, comforted by the notion that at any second she could turn on the ignition and drive away forever.

She began skimming the newspaper, waiting for her cappuccino to cool. Quite suddenly, the lack of sleep and the exertion of her morning workout seized her. She could feel her eyes losing focus on the page, her head dipping. She placed the cup in the holder and closed her eyes. Very soon, she was out.

When she woke, her coffee was cold and a girl, maybe eighteen years old, was standing in the centre of the parking lot, staring at her. The wind whipped the girl’s hair about her face, tugging at her frumpy dress. She had scrapes and scabs lining her legs and was drowning inside a man’s bomber jacket. Francine yawned, looked at the clock, then back at the girl, who still hadn’t moved.

She got out of the car and stretched. The girl turned on her heel and cut briskly across the parking lot, casting glances over her shoulder before vanishing through the automatic doors of the small indoor market.

Francine returned to her desk ten minutes late from lunch, but nobody seemed to notice. While she was in the middle of composing an enthralling email to their suppliers regarding low stock on fluorescent golf tees, it began to rain again. The first drops plinked against the window, and then a low rumble of thunder distracted her. She stopped typing and looked out into the parking lot. The girl in the baggy bomber jacket was standing next to her car, peering curiously inside like a child at an aquarium. Francine stood up and watched as the girl cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed herself up against the car window for a better look, before walking round to the passenger side, idly running her finger along the bodywork, then scoping out the back seats.

‘What’s she doing?’ Francine muttered to herself. She walked out of her cubicle and left the office, hurrying down the corridor before taking the stairs two at a time. Pushing through the double doors of the reception, she marched toward the car. ‘Excuse me? Can I help you?’

The girl had been looking through the back window when she snapped upright at the sound of Francine’s voice. From a few yards away, Francine thought she saw something amiss in the girl’s expression. It was only as she neared that she noticed that she was severely cross-eyed, her pupils pulling away from one another like magnets. Kermit the Frog, Francine thought. She has eyes like Kermit the Frog. Given the distraction they presented, those eyes made it impossible to tell whether the girl was pretty or not. She appeared gaunt, birdlike almost, her hair a blonde so dull it bordered on silver.

‘I said, can I help you?’

‘I put a letter through your door. Did you get it?’

You can buy a copy of I Know Where She Is here

Or why not add it to your Goodreads List here

About S. B. Caves

S.B. Caves was born and raised in North London. He loves crime and thriller novels, classic horror movies, Korean/Japanese thriller films and true crime documentaries. He is also a huge boxing fan.

You can follow S. B. Caves on Twitter – @SB_Caves

Blog Tour

You can catch up or follow the rest of this fab blog tour at the following stops!

A huge thank you to S. B. Caves and Canelo for letting me share this fab extract and for having me as part of the blog tour.

Have you read I Know Where She Is? Are you intrigued? Do you love a good thriller? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of this post or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy !

Happy Reading!

Spotlight – To Provence, With Love by T A Williams

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I am super happy to have been asked to feature 4 brilliant excerpts from To Provence, With Love from the wonderful T A Williams as part of this fab blog tour.

To Provence, With Love was released on the 12th July 2017 on e book published by HQ Digital and is set to be a brilliant adult fiction romance novel with a beautiful setting.

So today I am shining the light on this gorgeous book…..

Escape to the south of France with this perfect feel-good summer romance!

Struggling writer Faye Carter just can’t believe her luck. She’s off to Provence to write the autobiography of a famous film star and she’ll be staying in the stunning chateau!

So when she meets charming (and completely gorgeous) lavender farmer, Gavin, she knows that she’s made the right choice – even if glamourous, elderly Anabelle seems to be hiding something…

But when the sun is shining, the food is delicious and the air smells of honey, anything seems possible. Will the magic of Provence help Faye finally find a happy-ever-after of her own?

To Provence, with Love – Excerpts

Excerpt One

The dog stopped dead, only a few feet from Faye and waited for his master. She was impressed and relieved. She loved dogs, but she was on her way to an interview after all, and the last thing she needed was to be leapt upon by a dog, however friendly his intentions might be. She took a step back and studied the man surreptitiously as he approached.

He was wearing a battered T-shirt that had once advertised a Rolling Stones European tour. From its faded appearance, the tour in question had probably taken place in the years before the surviving members of the group had reached pensionable age – and that was a good while ago. On his feet were equally scruffy trainers and his strong, brown legs ran a long way up before disappearing into his sand-coloured shorts. He had hold of the dog by the collar and was bending over. Sensing her eyes on him, he looked up towards her and, to Faye’s considerable surprise, she realised that he was very, very good-looking. Somehow, out here in the wilds of deepest rural Provence, she hadn’t expected to meet a man whose face could have come off the front cover of a fashion magazine. She swallowed hard before answering.

‘Afraid so. Totally lost. I’m looking for St-Jean-sur-Sarde; the chateau to be precise. I was told to follow the signs for St-Jean and then turn right after the restaurant in the centre of the village. Only I can’t seem to find any road signs at all and I’m just going round in circles.’

The man nodded. Satisfied that the dog wasn’t going to jump all over Faye, he released his grip on the collar and reached up to pull off his sunglasses. As he did so, Faye noted the network of lines around his eyes that would no doubt have been airbrushed away by a photographer. As it was, they only served to add character to an already remarkable face. His eyes met hers for a second before he dropped them again and, in spite of herself, Faye was fascinated. They were the most amazing and unusual colour; a very light yellowy brown. They gave her the surreal sensation of looking into the eyes of a lion or a tiger – and a very fine-looking male of the species, although by the look of him, a rather unhappy male of the species. She was wondering why the expression on his face was so glum when he shot a glance at her, his expression not exactly hostile, but definitely lacking in warmth.

Excerpt Two

As she opened the car door, she heard a cacophony of barking and came close to closing the door again and locking it. It sounded as if the Hound of the Baskervilles himself was in there, straining to get out. Cautiously, she made her way up the steps until she was level with the half-glazed front door that was visibly shaking. By this time, Faye was also close to shaking. The door, set into a carved stone surround, was made of sculpted oak and, thankfully, it looked solid, even though the upper half was made up of little square red, white and blue stained glass panels. Staring at her through the base of one of these, was the source of the noise. A shiny black nose and an intimidating set of gleaming white teeth were very much in evidence, as were a pair of bright eyes that studied her approach. Then, as she and the dog made eye contact, the barking suddenly stopped, leaving Faye’s ears ringing. The dog dropped back to the floor, and in place of the barking, she heard low whines emanating from inside.

At that moment, the door was opened by a slim, grey-haired man in jeans and a crisp white T-shirt, his other hand firmly gripping the dog’s collar.

‘Good morning. You must be Faye. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.’

He spoke in English, with a soft American accent, and he might have been seventy or so. He shot a glance down at the dog, who was wagging his tail so hard, the whole back half of his body was wiggling. ‘You must tell me your secret. I’ve never seen Marlon so pleased to see somebody before. I’ll let him go if you’re all right with dogs. He’ll probably try to jump up at you, but just push him down.’

Faye looked at the dog whose intentions were now unmistakably friendly and nodded her head. ‘Hello, yes, I’m Faye Carter. Do let him go. I’ll be fine.’

A split second later she found herself pinned back against the door by a pair of hefty, mercifully clean, paws; a big hairy Labrador head stretching upwards, a pink tongue trying unsuccessfully to reach her face. Marlon was definitely very, very pleased to see her. She recovered her balance, persuaded the dog to return to all fours and bent down to stroke him. As if by magic, feeling her touch, he slid down onto the floor and rolled over, all four legs in the air, emitting an assortment of happy canine grunts, his tail still wagging furiously, doing a very efficient job of sweeping the polished oak floor.

‘That’s quite amazing.’ The grey-haired man was still looking very surprised. ‘We normally have to shut him in the kitchen when somebody comes to the door.’ He stepped to one side and waved her in formally. ‘Anyway, welcome to St-Jean, Faye. My name’s Eddie Marshal. I’m Miss Beech’s PA.’

Excerpt Three

Before they reached the Coq d’Or, Marlon led her off to the left along a narrow path and Faye was happy to unclip the lead from his collar and let him make the decisions as to where they should go. He was very well behaved and didn’t attempt to run too far ahead as they followed the path alongside a dry gulley running down towards the river in the valley below. From the collection of bone-dry branches and weeds caught in the bushes lining the gully, it was clear that this would turn into a raging torrent after heavy rainfall, but for the moment, there was no sign of water at all. Everything around them was terribly dry, the grass burnt brown by the sun. She picked up a stick and threw it for the dog. He ran for it, picked it up, but then steadfastly refused to bring it to her. Clearly somewhere along the line, his brain hadn’t quite got the hang of the retriever part of his ancestry.

As they walked along, a succession of startled lizards ran frantically for cover and Faye found herself hoping there were no snakes about, and this reminded her of her father. She had texted him as soon as she had reached the chateau to let him know she was safe and well, and she resolved to call him later to tell him all about her first day. All around there was virtual silence, and for somebody used to the never-ending background hubbub of London, it was almost disconcerting. After a short distance, threading their way between dry stone walls, covered with wild vines, and among ramshackle old buildings, Marlon, still carrying his stick, turned left once more and led her over a bridge composed of a single irregular slab of limestone, well over six feet long. Faye wondered how many centuries it had been lying there and how on earth the people who had laid it had been able to do so in an era surely long before motorised cranes and mechanical diggers.

On the other side of the bridge, she saw her first human being.

‘Hello, Marlon. Who’s this you’re taking for a walk, then?’ The voice came from the owner of a very large shaggy mongrel that looked like a cross between a sheep and a grizzly bear. From the wagging of tails that was going on, clearly Marlon and he were already on good terms, which was just as well because Faye had no illusions as to her chances if it came to having to step in to stop a dogfight with this monster. The dog’s owner, on the other hand, looked big and strong enough to separate a pair of fighting wolves, if he had to. He looked down at her, fortunately with a smile. ‘You’ll be the young lady who’s going to be staying at the chateau, I daresay?’

Faye nodded and took a good look at the owner of the Beast of St-Jean. They say that dogs and owners often come to look alike and this pairing certainly added weight to that hypothesis. The man, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, was the size and shape of a wardrobe, with a hairstyle, if, indeed it could be called a style, not dissimilar to that of his dog. Fortunately, he was still smiling benignly at Faye and she summoned a nervous smile in return.

‘Yes, that’s right. I’ve just arrived. My name’s Faye. How did you know I was coming?’ She wondered for a moment whether this man mountain might in some way be related to Miss Beech, and it turned out she wasn’t far off the mark.

‘Name’s Albert. I’m the man who’s just spent a week redecorating the flat above the stables for you. My mum’s Miss Beech’s housekeeper and I do the garden and stuff.’ He extended a huge paw towards her in greeting. Gritting her teeth, Faye reached out and let him envelope her hand and shake it, mercifully remarkably delicately.

Excerpt Four

Faye went over and clinked her glass against Miss Beech’s, then Eddie’s, and took a mouthful. She watched as Miss Beech sipped her drink pensively before looking up. ‘Here’s something you can put in the book, Faye. They say alcohol slows the activity of the brain, but every time I drink champagne, my mind’s flooded with memories of so, so many good times.’ She stared down into the wineglass. ‘To be quite honest, I’ve never really liked the stuff that much. Those bubbles always seem to go up my nose, but it’s what it represents, I suppose.’

‘Well, I haven’t had the opportunity to drink enough champagne in my life to develop a special taste for it, but this is gorgeous. By the way, talking of wine, thank you so much for all the food and drink you’ve put in the flat. The fridge is absolutely packed.’ As Miss Beech made a dismissive gesture with her hand, Faye took another mouthful of champagne. It really was excellent. She pulled up an ornate wooden stool and sat down to one side of Miss Beech, directly in front of the fireplace. ‘So, go on then, what’s running through your mind at the moment? What memories has this sip of champagne awakened?’

There was a moment’s silence while Miss Beech reflected on the question and then, to Faye’s surprise, she started giggling like a schoolgirl once more. ‘To be totally honest, Faye, it reminds me of the night I tipped a bucket full of ice into my leading man’s lap in an Italian restaurant in Beverly Hills.’

Faye gasped, feeling a fit of the giggles rising up inside her as well. ‘You did what?’ She watched as Miss Beech dissolved into laughter, her whole face flushed with pleasure as the memory returned. ‘It was at the end of a day’s filming of Faded Heart.’ Faye knew this to be one of Miss Beech’s best-known films. ‘All that day we’d been riding around on horses. As I recall, I was trying to show him how the stunt boss had been teaching me to jump onto a moving horse.’ She looked up. ‘We did a lot of our own stunts in those days, not like today – and as I leapt to my feet and stretched out one leg to demonstrate, my foot hit the bucket and … splash!’

Faye was laughing by now. ‘Who was the leading man?’

‘Charlton Heston.’

‘Wow, and what was his reaction? Was he angry?’

Miss Beech shook her head. ‘Not at all. He laughed his head off. Said it cooled him down. He was a good, kind man, was Chuck. Not like some others I could mention.’

You can buy a copy of this fab book here

Or why not add it to your Goodreads list here

About T A Williams

I write under the androgynous name T A Williams because 65% of books are read by women. In my first book, “Dirty Minds” one of the (female) characters suggests the imbalance is due to the fact that men spend too much time getting drunk and watching football. I couldn’t possibly comment. Ask my wife…

I’ve written all sorts: thrillers, historical novels, short stories and now I’m enjoying myself hugely writing humour and romance. Romantic comedies are what we all need from time to time. Life isn’t always very fair. It isn’t always a lot of fun, but when it is, we need to embrace it. If my books can put a smile on your face and maybe give your heartstrings a tug, then I know I’ve done my job.

I‘ve lived all over Europe, but now I live in a little village in sleepy Devon, tucked away in south west England. I love the place. That’s why you’ll find leafy lanes and thatched cottages in most of my books. Oh, yes, and a black Labrador.

I’ve been writing since I was 14 and that is half a century ago. However, underneath this bald, wrinkly exterior, there beats the heart of a youngster. My wife is convinced I will never grow up. I hope she’s right.

You can find out more about T A Williams on his website – www.tawilliamsbooks.com

Or why not follow him on twitter – @TAWilliamsbooks

Or on Facebook here

Blog Tour

You can catch up or follow the rest of this fab blog tour at the following stops!

A huge thank you to T A Williams for letting me share some fab excerpts of the book. Also a huge thank you to Faye for asking me to be part of the blog tour.

Have you read To Provence, With Love? Are you intrigued? Do you love a good romance novel? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of this post or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy !

Happy Reading!

Tales Post – Extract From The (Big, Fat, Totally Bonkers) Diary Of Pig by Emer Stamp

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My son, Corey, and I LOVE Pig! We have followed him on his fun filled adventures for a while now and we were over the moon to hear about the release of the new installment The (Big, Fat, Totally Bonkers) Diary Of Pig!

The (Big, Fat, Totally Bonkers) Diary Of Pig was released on the 4th May 2017 published by Scholastic. We knew Pig’s adventures were going to make us laugh lots….and we did!

For my stop on the blog tour I have a brilliant extract from the new book to get you excited about Pig’s new adventure….

I is Pig. This is my diary and I doubts you will believe any of it. In fact, if you is the kind of farmer what finds it hard to believe unbelievable stuff, you should put it down RIGHT NOW. I wouldn’t blame you. If I was reading it I would be like, ‘Don’t be silly! Stuff like this would never happen to a pig, it’s totally impossible.’ But it’s not. Just ask Duck, or Cow, or Ki-Ki, or Rusty. They’d all tell you. It’s all 1000% true and 10,000% BONKERS!

Extract From The (Big, Fat, Totally Bonkers) Diary Of Pig

You can buy a copy of The (Big, Fat, Totally Bonkers) Diary Of Pig here or from your local bookshop!

You can find previous posts with author Emer Stamp by clicking on the links below…..

Favourite Scenes From The Pig Series

Corey’s Corner – Review – The Seriously Extra Ordinary Diary Of Pig

About Emer Stamp

Emer Stamp is the author and illustrator of The Unbelievable Top Secret Diary of Pig. Emer grew up on a farm in Devon before training in graphic design and working for some of London’s top advertising agencies. She was the Creative Director for the Adam and Eve DDB communications agency, which creates advertisements for clients including John Lewis, Halifax, Cadbury’s and Save the Children. She lives in London.

You can find out more about Emer and Pig here or on the Goodreads page here

Or why not follow Emer on twitter using @emerstamp

Blog Tour

Catch up or follow the rest of this fab blog tour at the following stops!

A huge thank you to Katrina at Scholastic and Emer for having me on this fab blog tour!

You can find previous posts with author Emer Stamp by clicking on the links below…..

Favourite Scenes From The Pig Series

Corey’s Corner – Review – The Seriously Extra Ordinary Diary Of Pig

Have you read any of Pig’s adventures? What did you think? Do you have a favourite moment? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of the page or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy !

Happy Reading!

Tales Post – The Space Between The Stars by Anne Corlett – Extract

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Today I have a fantastic chapter one extract of a new sci-fi novel which is released on the 1st June 2017 published by Macmillian and I am super excited to be part of the fab blog tour to celebrate it’s release.

The Space Between The Stars is a novel of love, loss and second chances from debut novelist Anne Corlett, perfect for fans of Emily St John Mandel’s Station Eleven.

So sit back and relax and read this exciting extract!

I also have a fantastic giveaway!

The Space between the Stars by Anne Corlett is an enthralling novel of love, the choices we make, and what it means to be human. It’s also a dramatic road-trip across the stars, as a woman journeys across a plague-ravaged universe to the place she once called home, and the man she once loved.

How far would you travel to find your way home?

Jamie Allenby wakes, alone, and realises her fever has broken. But could everyone she knows be dead? Months earlier, Jamie had left her partner Daniel, mourning the miscarriage of their baby. She’d just had to get away, so took a job on a distant planet. Then the virus hit.

Jamie survived as it swept through our far-flung colonies. Now she feels desperate and isolated, until she receives a garbled message from Earth. If someone from her past is still alive – perhaps Daniel – she knows she must find a way to return.

She meets others seeking Earth, and their ill-matched group will travel across space to achieve their dream. But they’ll clash with survivors intent on repeating humanity’s past mistakes, threatening their precious fresh start. Jamie will also get a second chance at happiness. But can she escape her troubled past, to embrace a hopeful future?

The Space Between The Stars – Extract

Chapter One

She knew it was the third day when she woke. Even in the twists and tangles of the fever, her sense of time had remained unbroken. More than unbroken. Whetted into a measure of such devastating accuracy that she’d wanted nothing more than to die quickly and be done with that merciless deathwatch count of her last hours. And dying was quicker, according to the infomercials that spiralled out from the central planets when the virus first took hold there. Most people were gone by halfway through the second day. If you were still lingering beyond that midpoint, chances were you’d still be there after the fever had burned itself out in a last vicious surge on the third day. Jamie could taste blood in her mouth, bitter as old coins, and her back was aching with a dull, bed-bound creak of pain. But her bones were no longer splintering in some unseen vice, and there was none of the twisting vertigo that had flung her about inside relentless nightmares. In the throes of the fever, skeletal horses had leered at her, and an organ-grinder who was nothing but teeth and hands had turned the handle faster and faster until it all blurred into nothingness. Her senses were slowly coming back online. She could hear her own ragged, uneven breathing, and she could smell the reek of sweat-stained sheets. She was alive. That realisation brought no leap of joy or relief. There was a nag of unease working its way around the edges of her thoughts.

Survival was something she’d never dared hope for in those interminable days before the virus took hold on Soltaire, when there’d been nothing to do but wait for the inevitable to hit their planet too. The disease’s long incubation period meant that it had already reached every corner of settled space before the first symptoms appeared on the capital, Alegria. The messages from Alegria and the central worlds stopped a week or so before the sickness hit Soltaire. The infomercials had already given way to blunt emergency transmissions. As the days passed, the silences between them grew longer, the messages shorter, less coherent, as though the airwaves were fraying. But by then they knew what was coming. The virus was terminal in almost all cases.

Ninety-nine point nine nine nine nine per cent, one of the ranch hands had said. Jamie didn’t know where he’d got that figure, but it spread and became fact. The day he said that was the day they all stopped looking at each other. How many of them could hope to make it into a minority so staggeringly small? The odds were akin to launching a paper plane off the planet’s surface and hoping to hit a target back on Earth.

Nought point nought nought nought one per cent.

She felt stiff and brittle, like she’d snap if she moved. Her senses had turned on her. She could hear all the noises that her home wasn’t making. The generator at the main house was temperamental, and it wasn’t unusual for it not to be running. But she should have been able to hear the distant hum of machinery from the logging station over at the lake, or the farmhands calling to one another and swearing at the cattle. Instead, all she could hear was the soft, barely-there swish of the station’s turbine, and the squabbling of the immigrant sparrows in the trees behind the croft.

That was it. No human sound.

The Space Between The Stars by Anne Corlett is published by Pan Macmillan, 1 June 2017, £12.99 hardback.

You can buy a copy here or from your local bookshop!

About Anne Corlett

Anne Corlett has an MA in Creative Writing from Bath Spa University and has won a number of awards for her short stories, including the H. E. Bates Award. She works as a criminal solicitor and freelance writer, and lives with her partner and three young boys in Somerset. The Space Between The Stars is her first novel.

You can find out more about Anne on her website – www.annecorlett.co.uk

Or why not follow Anne on twitter – @ConsummateChaos

Giveaway

With thanks to the lovely people at Macmillan I have one copy of the brilliant book to giveaway to one lucky winner!

I am running this giveaway through my twitter account here!

UK Only

Ends 4th June 2017

Good Luck!

Blog Tour

You can follow or catch up on the rest of the fab blog tour at the following stops!

A huge thank you to Anne and to Alice at Macmillan for asking me to be part of this fab blog tour and for an awesome giveaway!

Have you read The Space Between The Stars? What did you think? What was your favourite part? If you have not read it yet have we tempted you to go and grab a copy? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of this post or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy!

Happy Reading!

Spotlight – Tigeropolis: The Grand Opening by R.D Dikstra

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61uzwfwe9l-_sx324_bo1204203200_ In celebration of the second book in the Tigeropolis series, The Grand Opening, being released in paperback this week on the 12th October I have a brilliant extract from the first book in ther series Beyond The Deep Forest.

Tigeropolis engages children aged 8-12 (and beyond!) in the importance of protecting our environment in a fun, gently educational way with charming illustrations by Matt Rowe and an entertaining story about a family of vegetarian tigers trying to save their tiger reserve.

Author R.D. Dikstra was inspired to write the story by his own travels and conservation efforts in India.

A huge thank you to Stephanie at Midas for asking me to feature this extract including gorgeous illustrations today.

51emm7tmqwl-_sx324_bo1204203200_ A fun, quirky tale for children 8-12, about a family of vegetarian tigers living in Tigeropolis – a tiger park deep in the foothills of the Himalayas. For years tiger cubs Bittu and Matti, their Mother Tala and wise old Uncle Raj have enjoyed a tranquil life out of sight of humans. But Tigeropolis is set to close, bulldozed to make way for a new motorway. The tigers set out to save their beloved park, but they soon realise they’ll need to rediscover some old skills : how to roar, how to hunt and, well, how to be tigers. 61uzwfwe9l-_sx324_bo1204203200_

Tiger cubs Bittu and Matti, together with old Uncle Raj and their mother Tala, might have saved their beloved Tigeropolis, but they soon discover there’s much more to running a successful wildlife park than posing for the odd picture and uploading it to ‘Tigerbook’.

From the reappearance of an old foe from Uncle Raj’s past, to coming up with inventive ways to draw in the crowds, the family of vegetarian tigers have their hands full trying to make the reopening of Tigeropolis the roaring success they want it to be.

Tigeropolis: The Grand Opening engages children aged 8-12 in the importance of protecting our environment – and, of course, the tiger – in a fun, educational and entertaining way. Full of witty takes on what life might be like for the modern tiger and charming illustrations, Tigeropolis: The Grand Opening is the second book in the acclaimed Tigeropolis series.

Extract

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You can buy a copy of the Tigeropolis books here

About R.D Dikstra

Richard was born and brought up in Scotland. He first became interested in wildlife conservation after a whale watching trip in Alaska and, to this day, continues to discover unusual places off the beaten track.

His passion for traveling and wildlife led Richard to India, where he first visited a tiger park in 2009 as part of a group investigating the relationship between conservation and wildlife tourism in India. He immediately felt an affinity with the country, its landscapes and its wildlife – and especially its tigers. The idea for Tigeropolis was born after his first tiger sighting.

Richard’s dedication to conservation led him to help set up Discovery Initiatives in 1997, a company specialising in conservation-related travel which, working with NGOs around the world, contributed over £1.5 million to conservation projects. He also helped set up pioneering social media platform, Tiger Nation.

Tigeropolis: Beyond The Deep Forest is his first children’s book, with the second in the series, Tigeropolis: The Grand Opening due to be published on 12th October 2016.

www.tigeropolis.co.uk

@RDDikstra

Another huge thank you to Stephanie at Midas for asking me to host!

Have you read Tigeropolois? What did you think? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of this review or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy!

Happy Reading!

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Spotlight – The Puppet Master by Abigail Osborne

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I’m so excited to have been asked to take part in this fab blog tour for a new self published adult romance, The Puppet Master by Abigail Osborne.

The Puppet Master was released on the 30th August in EBook and paperback and has me super intrigued!

So today for my stop on the tour I’m going to shine the spotlight on the book and it’s wonderful author!

I also have a fab extract from the book too!

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Manipulated by fear and love…could you cut the strings and take back control?

Billie’s hiding from the world, believing it to be the only way to take control of her life as she lives in fear of the man who nearly destroyed her. But what she doesn’t realise that she’s exactly where he wants her; isolated and afraid. A chance meeting with budding journalist Adam sparks a relationship that could free her from the terror that controls her. But will Adam be able to see the real Billie buried under her terror and pain?

Adam knows exactly who Billie is and is determined to expose her and get justice for the lives she ruined. But first, he needs to convince her to open up to him but as unwanted attraction and feelings blossom between them, Adam is forced to realise that all is not as it seems. Most of their lives have been unknowingly governed by the desires and needs of someone who considers himself their master. He has influenced and shaped them for years, meticulously weaving a web of lies and control around them. Can Billie and Adam survive the betrayals in store and cut the strings that bind them?

One thing is for sure. The master wants his puppets back – and he’ll do anything to keep them.

You can buy a copy of this book here

Or why not add it to your Goodreads wish list here

Extract

Chapter One

Present Day – 2018

Billie

Billie stole down the street avoiding all eye contact and people. Once a week, on a Sunday, she braved the world to visit the bookstore not far from her flat. ‘Once Upon a Time’ had thousands of books and a quaint little cafe, it was her haven.

“Same as usual, love?” asked the elderly lady at the till.

“Err… yes please,” whispered Billie, blushing bright red. She focused on her tray, the same hot chocolate and sandwich she had each time. She didn’t really like the sandwich but she felt silly just buying a drink.

“That’s £5.50 then please, love.” Without looking the lady in the eye, Billie handed over the money she had already got out in preparation.

“Thank you,” Billie said, and then scuttled off to the same table by the window that she always had. She liked this table because she could look out the window at the people hurrying down the street – no one stopped or took their time any more. But if she didn’t fancy that she could also people watch in the cafe. It was a small, intimate setting, a few tables and lots of quirky signs dotted around. Her favourite was ‘Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup’.

Today, she watched the two women through the gaps in her long red hair, shielding her gaze. They were at the table next to her, chattering about the possible affair that one of their husbands may or may not be having. She enjoyed these little snippets of society. Some days she felt a pang of loneliness, no one would ever sit at this table with her. But mostly, it was a relief. It wasn’t safe. People were dangerous. She looked over at the lady who had served her. Her face was wrinkly with laughter lines, her smile was wide and welcoming. White hair bounced cheerfully on her head as she moved around. But Billie knew that appearances were deceiving. Nearly everyone wore a mask. No one was themselves any more. Too afraid to be judged. Everyone had to fit in with what was ‘normal’. Billie could just make out the lady’s name badge. ‘Martha’ could easily be hiding something. She could be stealing children and cooking them just like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.

She shook her head and returned to her food. It was no good thinking like this. It would only trigger memories of the person who had had the best mask she’d ever seen. A mask so well constructed, no one could have sensed the evil behind it. She went back to eating her food, surreptitiously watching the people around her. She could live through their lives. People watching was much safer than making actual connections. At another table, a mother was helping her son with a jigsaw. She watched them and allowed herself to become absorbed in their lives. She wondered what the woman did. She was dressed haphazardly so it looked like she was a full-time mum. The boy looked happy and content. Billie hoped his mum was strong enough to keep him safe. That she wouldn’t abandon him when things got tough. That she wouldn’t put herself first.

She was distracted from her thoughts by a man that had entered the cafe. She watched as he made the rookie mistake of ordering his food without checking to see if there was table free. For a moment, his black-clad body stiffened as he realised his mistake. But then, instead of putting his head down and scurrying away as she would have, his powerful and well-muscled body moved with effortless grace over to her table. Billie couldn’t look away as he stared down at her with warmth in his unusual pale green eyes, which were in perfect symmetry to his humorous, kindly mouth. His stance exuded a sense of restless energy. For the first time since she could remember, she wasn’t scared. He stood there, devilishly handsome and she was captivated.

A lock of his wavy blond hair fell casually on his forehead as he spoke. “Can I sit here?” Billie knew words weren’t going to come, so she just nodded.

He was so calm, as if sitting next to strangers was normal and not potentially dangerous. Whereas she couldn’t stop fidgeting, her eyes darted all around. Why was he sitting here? She could be an axe murderer for all he knew. Although, she supposed, she was a bit too female and frumpy for the average axe-wielder.

He sat down and looked at her intently; his eyes were pale but unreadable. But then, like she had passed some test, a smile broke out across his face.

“So, how are you?” he said. She didn’t reply straightaway, thrown by his familiar tone, as if they knew each other.

“Er… Fine… Do I know you?” Blushing from head to toe, she rapidly wracked her brain, trying to remember if he worked with her. She made a point never to talk to anyone outside of work and just kept her head down. Literally.

“Nope, never seen you before, just thought it would be rude not to talk,” he said. His smile widened, and his face changed, a light came into his eyes and her pounding heartbeat lowered a few decibels. She realised that she had been staring and quickly lowered her head.

“Okay,” she murmured, to her hands. Her hands were shaking. To calm herself, she focused on them. She’d always had fat fingers, but her fingernails were nice. She’d managed to kick the habit of biting her nails.

“Are you texting someone for help? Is that why you keep looking down at your knees?” he said. She looked up instantly, her face redder than she had ever known it. “I’m going to have to work on my image. I thought I’d mastered looking sweet and innocent, but from your reaction, I’m more like an axe murderer.” Despite herself, she smiled. Her stomach was fluttering, it couldn’t keep up with the varying emotions she was experiencing.

“I don’t have a mobile.”

“How curious, are you also one of those loons that don’t have a television?” He visibly shuddered. “I’d rather sit on the floor if that’s the case. I don’t trust people that don’t watch TV; it’s unhealthy.”

She chuckled quietly, still unable to look him in the eye. “I have a TV.”

“Is it black and white?”

“No, it’s a regular TV.”

“Phew, that’s a relief, you had me worried then.”

She laughed as he flopped back in his chair in exaggerated relief. It was strange. Although she was wary and uncomfortable with him, it wasn’t as bad as it usually was.

She remembered her first week at her job. She was staring out of the window, grateful to have a window seat, when one of her male colleagues came over to her. “Hi, I’m Andy, you must be Billie?” His hand reached out to shake hers and she froze. She stared at his hand. It loomed over her and it began to magnify. She could see every hair on it. His hand was massive and all she could think of was how it could easily crush hers. Instead of shaking it, she got up and ran to the ladies bathroom. She got into a stall and was sick. From then on, no one spoke to her and she never spoke to anyone, unless she absolutely had to. She heard muttered rumours about her but she didn’t listen properly. The only people she talked to regularly were customers on the phone, and that was only perfunctory conversations.

With the shock of this man’s arrival at her table wearing off, she was surprised how little she felt intimidated by him. She didn’t even know his name. Alarm bells had begun to ring in her head as soon as he had started talking to her but his relaxed manner and humour had disarmed them. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed with someone, let alone spoken comfortably with them. Life had kicked Billie down and trampled over her until she realised that the only way she could exist safely in this world was to close herself off to the rest of humanity. People were dangerous. She had lived alone, with this mantra, for the five years since she had left university. She thought that she no longer felt loneliness, but this stranger was stirring feelings she didn’t know still existed.

“Although we still need to discuss the phone thing… I’ve never met someone who doesn’t have a phone. How do people get in touch with you?”

“I have no one that needs to get in touch with me.”

“No one? I don’t believe that. What about your parents?”

She sucked in a breath of pain, sharply reminded why she didn’t like to talk to anyone. People were nosey. They walked around quizzing people about their personal lives, believing that they had the right to ask whatever they want. Life was one big interview, and Billie hated it. Everyone should be able to give information when they are ready, not when someone else wants to hear it. But basic personal information seemed to be a requirement for social interactions, so she gave her standard lie.

“I don’t have any, and before you ask, no siblings or other relations, just me.” She hoped that her sharp tone would make him realise that she did not want to talk about this anymore.

“Aw. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head and then added, “No.”

He was quiet for a moment, brow furrowed. Then his face brightened. “What about work? They have to be able to contact you. You must have a phone to talk with them.”

“I have a neighbour in the flat next door; she has a phone that my work can call.”

“You know you could just get a phone don’t you?”

“I don’t want one.”

“Why?”

She floundered. How could she possible explain that such a simple question would take her entire life history to answer? This was the most she’d spoken with anyone for years. His light tone and handsome smile had her spellbound. She was even considering telling him. She’d never told anyone the whole story and until now, she hadn’t known she wanted to. She realised she hadn’t answered and began to panic. He must have seen it on her face though, because he changed the subject.

“So, can I know your name, or would you prefer crazy beautiful anti-phone lady?” The word beautiful echoed in her head. She felt sick. He was just like the rest. She got up quickly, sloshing his coffee on the table.

“I need to go, sorry.” With that, she ran towards the door and out of the cafe. Trying hard to beat down the memory of the last time that someone had called her beautiful.

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About Abigail Osborne

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Abbie was born in the Lake District and has moved all around the UK since then until she met her husband at University. She lives with him and their two crazy cats in the West Midlands. She is a Needs Assessor for students with disabilities and has her own book reviewing blog called Many Books, Many Lives. Even though she did English Literature at University it wasn’t until she started reviewing books that she realised how much she loved to write. The Puppet Master is her first novel but it certainly won’t be her last.

You can find out more about Abigail on here website – http://www.abigailosborneauthor.com/

Or on Facebook here

Or why not follow Abigail on twitter – @Abigail_Author or @MBequalsML

Blog Tour

You can catch up or follow the rest of this fab blog tour at the following stops!

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Monday 26th September

Wonderfully Bookish

Bookish Outsider

Tuesday 27th September

Being Anne

Chelle’s Book Reviews

Wednesday 28th September

My Chestnut Reading Tree

Portable Magic

Thursday 29th September

Writing Round the Block

Kim the Bookworm

Friday 30th September

Vikbat

Over the Effing Rainbow

Saturday 1st October

Tales of Yesterday

Bibliobeth

Sunday 2nd October

Big Book Little Book & Fiction Fascination

Another huge thank you to Faye and Abigail for having me on this tour and for asking me to feature this extract!

Have you read The Puppet Master? What did you think? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of this review or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy!

Happy Reading!

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Tales Post – Extract from Strange Star by Emma Carroll

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I was super excited to be asked by Hannah at Faber & Faber to feature an exclusive extract from the new Emma Carroll book, Strange Star!

Strange Star was released on 7th July 2016 published by Faber & Faber and is set to be a fab MG read!

Strange Star is high up on my most anticipated list for 2016 after hearing about it at the Faber Blogger Day early this year ( you can find all about that day here )

So sit back and relax and be swept away by Emma’s beautiful writing!

They were coming tonight to tell ghost stories. ‘A tale to freeze the blood,’ was the only rule.

Switzerland, 1816. On a stormy summer night, Lord Byron and his guests are gathered round the fire. Felix, their serving boy, can’t wait to hear their creepy tales. Yet real life is about to take a chilling turn- more chilling than any tale. Frantic pounding at the front door reveals a stranger, a girl covered in the most unusual scars. She claims to be looking for her sister, supposedly snatched from England by a woman called Mary Shelley. Someone else has followed her here too, she says. And the girl is terrified.

This breathtaking new book from Emma Carroll, the critically-acclaimed author of Frost Hollow Hall, The Girl Who Walked On Air, In Darkling Wood and The Snow Sister, is a deliciously creepy story inspired by the creation of Frankenstein, and is brought to life by a leading talent in children’s literature.

Extract

You can buy a copy of Strange Star here or from your local bookshop

Or read a guest review of Strange Star by Perdita Cargill here

About Emma Carroll

When I’m not writing books, I’m reading them. For many years I was an English teacher in a secondary school in Devon. Nowadays, I write full time. It’s my absolute dream-come-true job!

As a child, I wrote stories about ponies and pop stars, though not together. Nowadays it’s called fan-fiction; back then it was just weird.

After school, I worked as a reporter on a local newspaper. From there I went to university to study English Literature. After backpacking around the Middle East, South America, Australia, I did a PGCE in English and became a teacher.

Many years later, I bought myself a lovely big notebook and some new pens. I enrolled on the MA Writing For Young People at Bath Spa University, and got writing again. ‘Frost Hollow Hall’ was started on the MA course. It is my first novel, and took two years and many cups of tea to write.
I live in the Somerset hills with my husband and two Jack Russell terriers.

You can find out more about Emma Carroll on her website – www.emmacarrollauthor.wordpress.com

Or why not follow her on twitter using @emmac2603

You can see previous posts by Emma on Tales below –

National Transplant Week

#WinterCarrollReadAlong

Do You Believe In Fairies?

Guest Review of Strange Star by Perdita Cargill

Also a huge shout out to the cover designer of these books Julian De Narvaez! Beautiful stunning covers indeed!

Check out Andrews blog later this week for a fab Q&A with Emma!

Have you read Strange Star? What did you think? Have you read any of Emma Carroll’s other books? Do you have a favourite? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of this review or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy!

Happy Reading!

Tales Post – Extract from Cold by John Sweeney

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I was super excited to be asked Alice at Midas PR to be part of the blog tour for the first in a new adult fiction thriller series by British writer and broadcaster John Sweeney, Cold.

Join in the conversation on twitter using #Cold

My stop on the blog tour is a thrilling extract from the book!

Enjoy!

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In the feeble light of a London winter, Joe Tiplady walks his dog in the snow. He is not alone. Two men are tracking him, as is a woman with wolf eyes. Soon Joe will find himself caught in a storm of violence and retribution that he does not yet understand.

Around the world, a chain of events is in motion that will make Joe a priceless target. A retired Soviet general hunts for his missing daughter after a series of brutal murders. A ruthless assassin loses something so precious he will do anything to get it back. And in the mountains of Utah, a brilliant ex-CIA chief wrestles with his religion.

In the shadow of them all lies Zoba, strongman ruler of Russia and puppet-master of the world’s darkest operatives. Can Joe save himself from this dangerous web of power and revenge? Where can he run when there’s nowhere left to hide?

Extract

The beetle ushered Joe down a marble staircase. His feet felt cold on the stone; the handrail was of the smoothest onyx. The staircase coiled around on itself – alcoves populated with a strange mix of Orthodox icons, eighteenth-century portraits in oil of grand figures in fur, and modern art – down to a hall dominated by a circular wall of mirrors reflecting a marble statue of a naked man, sightless, with both arms missing. At the feet of the statue sat two dog bowls, one for water, one for food.

The beetle opened a shiny black door and they were out on the streets of London; a square, somewhere in Belgravia. Nearby, the flag of some exotic foreign power flapped feebly in the night.

Joe, hugging the blanket to his body, stood on the step and drank in great draughts of London air: dirty, diesel-speckled, free.

Behind him he could hear a commotion, a woman shouting, screaming abuse, and a man replying, much more quietly, the register of his voice conveying menace. A dark-blue Jaguar came to a halt beside them.

‘Get in,’ said the beetle, and the car door closed behind Joe with a soft, expensive thunk. After a few beats, more doors opened and closed. A middle-aged man with a sour expression, his moustache thick and bristly, claimed the front seat. Wearing a rumpled tweed jacket, white shirt, regimental tie and salmon pink corduroy trousers, he was heavy without being fat, tough without overdoing it.

He turned to the driver and said, ‘Go.’

The Jaguar slid through the London streets, heading west, but it was the woman now sitting next to him that had Joe’s attention: Wolf Eyes, the woman he’d first met at the vet’s, what seemed a lifetime ago. Streetlights strobed through the car’s windows, casting her first light, then dark, light, dark. Her perfume, which, only a few minutes before, he had experienced as a blindfolded prisoner, filled the car. Close up, she was not just extraordinarily beautiful, but bewitchingly so. And yet he was intensely angry with her for what she had done.

‘Three people dead.’

The wolf eyes stared at him, cold, unblinking.

Joe struggled to get the words out: ‘What’s . . . what’s wrong with you? Who are you and why all of this? Why did you kill those people?’

She swung in her seat and hit him with the edge of her hand, against the side of his mouth.

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Cold by John Sweeney is out 1^st July (Thomas and Mercer, £8.99)

You can buy a copy of Cold here or from your local bookshop

About John Sweeney

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John Sweeney is a British writer and broadcaster who became a YouTube sensation in 2007 while working for BBC Panorama and lost his temper with a member of the Church of Scientology. He admitted looking like an ‘exploding tomato’. As a reporter, first for The Observer, then the BBC Sweeney has covered wars and chaos in more than eighty countries and been undercover to a number of tyrannies including Chechnya, North Korea and Zimbabwe. He has helped free seven people falsely convicted of killing babies, starting with Sally Clark and Angela Cannings. He has ‘door-stepped’ Vladimir Putin over the killings in Ukraine and when he challenged Donald Trump about his business relationship with mafiosi Fat Tony Salerno, Mr Trump walked out on him. Over the course of his career John has won an Emmy, two Royal Television Society prizes, an Sony Gold award, the What The Papers Say Journalist of The Year Prize, an Amnesty International prize and the Paul Foot Award. His hobby is falling off his bike on the way back from the pub.

Sweeney’s rule of thumb in journalism is: ‘I poke crocodiles in the eye with a stick.’
He lives in London, has written seven non-fiction books and two novels. His first, Elephant Moon, has sold more than 150,000 copies. His second, Cold, will be published in the summer of 2016.

He’s on twitter, his handle stemming from his encounter with Scientology: @johnsweeneyroar

Blog Tour

You can catch up of follow the rest of the blog tour at the following stops!

A huge thank you to John for letting me feature an extract here on the blog an to Alice at Midas PR for asking me to be part of the tour and organising!

Have you read Cold? What did you think? Have you read any of John Sweeney’s other thrillers? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of this review or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy!

Happy Reading!

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Guest Post – Losing It Extract and Introduction by Jamie Scallion

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3.Losing It

I am super excited to have been asked to be part of the blog tour for this wonderful book, Losing It by Jamie Scallion which is the third penultimate book in The Rock N Roll diaries.

Losing It was released on the 9th June 2016 published in paperback by Mad Notes Media.

A huge thank you to Laura Curtis from Riot Communications for having me on this wonderful tour.

For my stop on the blog tour I have a brilliant extract from the book and a fab introduction from the awesome Jamie Scallion himself!

3.Losing It Losing It is the third book in the explosive teen series The Rock ‘n’ Roll Diaries. This brilliant quartet of Young Adult novels has acquired thousands of online fans since its launch in 2015. USA Baby! The RockAteers are on the road again. Egg watches their profile soar from his self-imposed exile. With a nudge from Clipper, he makes an important decision. Burt has a new mission impossible in the form of hot actress Daisy Coolidge, but is he ready to join The Faith in order to succeed? Clipper has a boyfriend and Tea is suspicious. Before long it’s clear there are others who aren’t what they seem. Things are about to go crazy in RockAteers world! Expect a rollercoaster ride of revenge, betrayal and murky secrets in the penultimate instalment of The Rock ’n’ Roll Diaries.

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3.Losing It

Introduction by Jamie Scallion

I love New York; it’s a music town. Countless songs have been written about the city and its rich heritage of artists and venues make the place somewhere I never tire of going to. It’s why I chose the Big Apple as the setting for a lot of the action in Book 3.

In the third instalment we needed to see The RockAteers really struggle. America is huge. When I’ve toured America, one thing is dominant at all times – the sheer size of it. Because of that enormity bands have to spend months and months touring it. This puts an huge strain, not only on the band but the tour manager, crew and basically everyone. And, inevitably, tempers shorten and then they fray which can lead to some pretty ridiculous situations and arguments.

So in the scene below the band are at the end of their combined tether. Of course, it’s the lead singer and guitarist that cause most of the fuss.

Thanks, Jamie Scallion

Extract

The RockAteers coach waited with its engine running. The car park under the hotel was hidden from unwelcome eyes, a key reason why the hotel was often used by celebrities. Once the personality was ensconced behind tinted windows the car, bus or limo could pass on to 49th Street undetected. Burt, Tea, Ged and Clipper were already on board. Egg was half an hour late.

“It’s because he’s a prick!” Burt announced, as he drained his third mug of champagne.

“It ain’t like him,” Tea said.

“Can’t you do something, Ged? We do know he’s in the hotel,” Clipper said.

“We’ve missed sound check anyway and you’re not on stage for two and a half hours. He’s probably just dealing with a problem,” Ged replied, unperturbed.

“The problem he’s dealing with is that he’s a dick,” Burt said. “Takes one to know one,” Tea said, under his breath. 

Burt turned towards Tea and narrowed his eyes. 

“How many bassists does it take to change a light bulb?” Burt said, allowing his smirk to grow. “Just one, but the guitarist has to show him how first.”

Burt burst into laughter. No one joined him. 

Tea glared. “Says the man who can’t play an instrument.” 

“I play guitar,” Burt said, his mirth evaporated. “I bet you two grand you can’t name me five famous bass players!” 

Burt shed an enormous wedge of money from his inside jacket pocket and put it on the table. 

Tea shook his head. “Entwistle, John Paul Jones, Flea, Paul McCartney, Bootsy Collins, Jack Bruce, Lemmy, Cliff Burton, Sting, Lex Sadler, Ben Sergeant and Michael Skorjanec!”

Tea reached over and snatched up the huge wad of $100 bills.

Burt gazed at him bewildered. “Paul McCartney isn’t a bass player,” he said at last.

“I’m afraid he is, mate,” Clipper said.

Burt looked at Ged for support but the Tour Manager nodded.

“Why are you carrying so much money around, lad?” Ged asked.

“You never know when you might need it,” Burt replied defensively. 

“Egg’s here,” Clipper interrupted, peering out of the window.

They all gazed out and watched Egg walk across the car park, straight past the bus and into the open door of a blacked-out limo. The smart-looking chauffeur closed the door behind him and returned to the driver’s seat.

There was a long silence before Burt exploded. “What the hell was that?” he screamed, racing off the bus. Clipper, Tea and Ged followed close behind.

Burt sprinted to the limo and started knocking hard on the tinted glass. The electric window slid down a couple of inches. Only Egg’s eyes were visible.

“Yes,” he asked haughtily. 

“What the hell are you playing at?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Egg replied. 

“Don’t be a dick. Get out of the fucking limo! We’ve been waiting for you for hours.” 

“Oh, I see, it’s OK for you to get your own personal tour bus, but I can’t ride to ONE gig in a limo? What are we, second class citizens?”

“Listen, Smeg,” Burt hissed. “I don’t know what your game is, but you’re in for a proper big shock…”

Before Burt could say another word, the window shut and the limo pulled away.

“You shithead! Come back!” he bellowed, jogging alongside.

As the car gathered speed, so did Burt. 

“Burt, what you doing? Leave it, let’s go,” Clipper called after him. 

“Piss off, you gay idiot. That ginger tit needs to learn some manners,” Burt yelled back at him, continuing to slap the car window. “Get out and get on the bloody bus, fuck-balls!”

The car sped up the ramp, turned and was gone. Burt stopped, hands on hips, panting. He turned to find Tea, Ged and Clipper glaring at him.

“What?” Burt asked innocently. 

“Who are you?” Clipper said coldly. 

“I’m not letting him get away with that!” Burt said, sprinting back towards the bus. 

Clipper, Tea and Ged watched as Burt climbed into the cab and pulled the driver from his seat. 

“What the hell is he doing?” Ged yelled, breaking into a run.

Tea and Clipper pelted after him. The tour bus lurched forward and then ground to a halt as the engine died. 

Ged reached the open door and pulled up. “Get out of there!” he roared. 

Tea and Clipper arrived and stood watching in shock as Burt fumbled with the ignition. The engine roared to life once again. Burt turned and grinned at them. This time he managed to move the bus forward and the front door hissed to a close, shutting firmly in their faces.

3.Losing It You can buy a copy of Losing it or any of the other books in there series here

About Jamie Scallion

41BX3DKPYvL._UX250_ Jamie Scallion grew up in South London. He started a rock band at school and as lead singer of a cult London band for twelve years he toured the world, playing with some of the biggest names in the music industry. He wrote The Rock ‘n’ Roll Diaries whilst on the road.

For more please visit www.therocknrolldiaries.com

Or why not follow Jamie on twitter – @JamieScallion

Blog Tour

Follow or catch up on the rest of this fab blog tour at the below stops!

A huge huge thank you to Jamie for such a fab post and to Laura Curtis for organising!

Have you read Losing It or any of the books in The Rock N Roll Diaries? What did you think? I would love to hear from you! Why not leave a comment using the reply button at the top of this review or tweet me on twitter using @chelleytoy!

Happy Reading!

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