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POLITICAL SURVIVAL HAS ALWAYS BEEN A GAME OF DECEPTION.

THIS IS THE LONG-AWAITED SEQUEL TO deadline.

What really pushed the British Prime Minister in 2016 into an IN/OUT referendum on European Union membership?

Was China trying to destabilize the UK Government?

Had the Westminster rent boy story come alive?

How much is the going rate for blackmail these days?

 A TOPICAL CRIME THRILLER ALIVE WITH CONTROVERSY

They stood in a tight menacing group around him, facing him, staring him out and Simon for a dreadful second feared for his life.

“Dispensable, Ellwood, remember that. One word out of line and you are toast, my friend. Do you understand?”

In his duffle coat, hanging by the neck, his feet in their old pair of walking brogues dangled together in a slow sway to the evening breeze. Speechless, immobile, a hand held tightly across her open mouth, she wanted to scream. She knew who it was, even as the face was turned away from her.

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There is silence between them; not even the ticking of a clock or the sound of a distant London siren would have been registered in either of their minds, so locked were they into their own thoughts.

deadline

AN EVERYDAY TALE OF CONSPIRACY AND POLICE COCK-UP, SPRINKLED WITH TRAGEDY, MISHAP AND JUST A LITTLE ROMANCE.

Olivia wants to be a writer and plans a biography of the charismatic Hugo, but their previous experience as lovers haunts them.

What could more effectively turn a girl’s head, but an artist with magic in his fingertips and mystery in his brush strokes?

Olivia is liaising with the mysterious Louise, while Hugo still hankers after his long-suffering muse, Samantha. A police shooting, a kidnapping, and a desperate search leads to a breathless finale, while the lurking Edward threatens in the background with his own deadline.

SO MUCH IN OUR PALTRY LIVES IS FIXED AND CANNOT BE ALTERED BY ANYTHING AS TRIVIAL AS DESIRE OR WILLPOWER – WE CANNOT JUST WISH THINGS TO BE DIFFERENT.

She releases the handle and watches it reverberate in its fixed vertical position. The resultant human scream is delayed, as there is a finite time between the blade first penetrating the skin and his mind registering the unpleasant event, despite him looking down at it.
But when it comes, it is as lancinating a bellow as she has ever heard, a distressing animal sound that must have been registered all the way to the Shepherd’s Bush roundabout.

 

Our Wilful Assassin

LONE BRITISH SNIPER IN HADITHA TAKES ON US MARINES

When subpoenaed to testify against US marines accused of atrocities in Iraq, ex-British sniper Jarvis Collingwood finds himself the target of a group of vengeful American soldiers prepared to go the full distance to hide the truth.

tough, shocking, compelling

He lifts his head and for the first time for a long time, engages directly with Pamela’s warm eyes and huge pupils, as if this is the most important moment in their lives

For a fraction of a second, Jarvis freezes, not knowing what to do, questioning why he had not organised for himself a proper escape route

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The London Sniper

A COCKTAIL OF SLOW-BURN TENSION AND THRILLS, A CHILLING REVENGE CRIME STORY YOU WON’T WANT TO PUT DOWN

Jarvis Collingwood and Leon Deshpande are incarnate warriors of the modern age, cool, calculating and determined to win, professional in all that they do, heroes both in many ways. Jarvis is an expert sniper paid by an old man desperate for revenge on those he holds responsible for a son beheaded in Iraq. Leon is an expert security man and maverick alpha-male with some points to prove, who always gets his man especially if the price is right.

Jarvis uses a young naïve Naomi as part of his cover while Leon hunts him down, reaching their final shoot-out in a remote forest hideaway.

The head of the lonely Englishman, with tangled hair and dirt-stained face, imprinted forever with an agonising expression of astonishment, seemed to hang in position for an impossibly long time, before tumbling onto the mucky floor with a thud. 

DEAD END

A BRILLIANT MIX OF HUMOUR AND INSIGHT, A TRAGIC ROMANCE, ULTIMATELY THRILLING.

A past secret revealed. A search for a long-lost child. Murder and mayhem on the south coast of Spain. Wouldn’t you want to rescue your daughter if she was in trouble?

Dead End is really two stories: one romantic and sad, of a young man’s coming of age and first love, an unseen child and the obsession to find her; the other fast-moving and tragic, thrilling episodes of avarice and theft, of kidnap and torture among menacing drug dealers and ruthless politicians. The link is the foppish courageous Matthew Crawford, who first reveals his secret at his daughter’s wedding and then walks into Sophie’s chaotic and dangerous life in Marbella.

Matthew met a beautiful girl called Stephanie, who he honestly believed had breezed in from paradise. In his innocence he assumed her beauty was the truth and the truth was love.

They kissed the wine drops off each other’s lips, their minds softened by blueberry haze.

She sank to her knees, trembling, close to defeat, thinking she would give up. ‘Oh God, please help me,’ she whined. Not being a believer, she inwardly saw the weakness of her plea.

Fair Game Foul Play

WHO KNOWS WHAT GOES ON BEHIND CLOSED DOORS?

Arnold Westlake is a decent, likable bloke who plays golf. Helpful, reliable. Unsettled, bored, pent-up. Tamara is a lovely lady who bakes cakes and plays bridge. Thoughtful, kind. Frustrated, directionless. They avoid, they circle, they both keep secrets. And with wealthy Ben, complete alpha male and outrageous show-off, they play a dangerous game. After an unexpected burst of anger, who will emerge a winner when tragedy strikes?

Sometimes you never know what goes on within a marriage, even your own, until some catastrophe happens.

       “A cosy crime novel, but explosive.

From a quiet village in North Yorkshire, a story of slow-burn domestic tension, discontent and tragedy compounded by cover‑up, and a desire for survival no matter what. Not so much a whodunnit, more a will-they-get-away-with-it that you won’t want to put down.

On departing she left a tiny smear of lipstick on his cheek and the waft of Chanel lingering in the hallway.