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Not happy with Booksbutterfly

Too important not to share…

ARC Books

I’m not normally one to write a post about a negative experience with a website, it’s not in my nature, but on this occasion I feel I need to.

I was dubious the moment I saw the booksbutterfly.com site, it has a lot of packages available, most of which offer a guarantee of a certain number of sales, a number that is likely to result in a profit, a small one, for anyone using the package. My scam alert started going off as a read the details of the packages, none of which gave any information on how the sales are guaranteed.

After thinking about it for a short while I decided to do some research, which wasn’t very helpful – I found an equal number of negative posts about the site as positive with the result that I was undecided about giving the site a try. Ultimately I decided…

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Posted by on April 3, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Polly Mae. The old Suitcase

Polly Mae. The old Suitcase

Polly Mae finds its impossible to leave next’s doors cat alone, especially if the cat happened to be up the tree Polly Mae wanted to climb herself, and the neighbour Mrs Donkin was on the war path.
After been banished to her room, she shimmy’s down the drainpipe and runs off to the beach with her friend William and finds an old suitcase hidden behind a wall in an old ice cream cabin by the beach.
The contents of the suitcase take her on an incredible journey, experiencing the plights of a polish families escape from war-torn Poland, which had been occupied by the Nazis in 1942.
A time when families were torn apart on one man’s whim! Polly Mae finds herself confronted with feelings and adventures she never thought she would have.
What was in the suitcase to start all this off? Learning from first-hand accounts about the holocaust and the damage it did was an experience for Polly Mae. One she would never forget!

This will be out on Audible, Itunes world wide in about 4-6 weeks.

 
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Posted by on March 23, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Polly Mae, the Old Suitcase, A peak at the first chapter (some of it)

“I
f Polly Mae pulls my cat’s tail again, or so much as glances in his direction, I will report her to the SSPCA. What a naughty wee lassie she is,” Mrs Donkin whined. “She should be locked up in a cage with a big padlock on it and fed bread and water for a week.”
If she had her way, she would bring the stockades back, or even hanging!
Polly Mae could just see it now…hundreds of kids strung up along the lampposts, with her prodding them with her broom! She was the neighbourhood’s answer to the wicked witch of the west, and she lived up to her reputation. And here she is, at it again, thought Polly Mae.
Poor old Polly Mae. She was always getting into bother. She could not understand why. She’d only pulled that silly old cat’s tail because it would not come down from the tree. She hadn’t even pulled it hard, as that would have been cruel. It just so happened that the cat had been in the tree she wanted to climb, so the cat had to go—it was as simple as that. But Mrs Donkin, from next door, the real neighbour from hell, was always trying to get Polly Mae into trouble. Some of the kids thought she was a demon from outer space sent to Earth to destroy all the fun of eleven-year-olds around the world. And I bet she even has a university degree in complaining! Polly Mae thought. She was waving her arms in the air like a loony and looked like she would take off any minute.
Polly Mae sat on her bed, to which her mum had banished her until teatime, watching out of the window. She watched and smiled. Mrs Donkin was still waving her arms around like a lolloping giant octopus. Her grey hair gently blowing in the wind that was caused by the air coming from her mouth. That made Polly Mae smile to herself.
She wondered what she could do to keep herself busy. Being in her room was not the thing she wanted to do best in the world right now. She listened to her CDs and began to imitate Kylie, using her hairbrush as a microphone, but even that got boring after a while.
She walked over to the bedroom window and looked out. “What a waste of a beautiful, warm day,” she sighed. “If only I could get out.”
She sat down again on the bed and thought for a while. “Ah ha! I know…I can climb out of the window,” she said, suddenly excited and almost fell off her bed.
Polly Mae checked to see if her mum was still talking to Mrs Donkin by opening the door a smidgen. Yes, just as she suspected, they were still talking. Blimey, can they gab! Polly Mae thought.
She went over to her bedroom window and cleared the things from the windowsill. Taking great care when moving her porcelain doll, her nanna had bought her for Christmas 2 years ago and her blue piggy bank from Spain, a gift from her Uncle Hamish, was put in a safe place on her dressing table, she opened the window as quietly as she could so no one would hear. She cocked her leg over the windowsill and slid out of the bedroom. She gripped the window ledge, wound her legs around the drainpipe, and slid down very slowly. The window wasn’t very high at all, which made things a lot easier.
“Move, you daft moggy,” she said. “Can’t you see I am trying to slide down the drainpipe, and you are in my way again,” Polly Mae almost shouted through gritted teeth.
The cat scampered away when he saw Polly Mae and hissed at her when he was at a safe distance. Polly Mae jumped the last meter or so and ran off, in a crouched position, with her head as low as possible so as not to be seen.
She darted behind a bush when she saw Mrs Pottle come out of her gate and walk towards her mum’s house. Now she knew she was safe because Mrs Pottle was the town gossip, even worse than Mrs Donkin, and could talk for hours without breathing—or so all her school friends said.
After Mrs Pottle had disappeared into her mum’s house, Polly Mae ran towards the beach. It was really great living near the sea because you could always find super places to hide from your mum and dad, or whoever happened to be mad at you at the time.
Portsoy had a great beach, with lots of hiding places. Several streets led to the beach, so it made for many quick and easy escapes. Her mum and dad would sometimes take her to Banff or Cullen beaches, which was great fun, and they would get a fish supper on the way home.
Portsoy Harbour was full of holidaymakers that flocked to the fishing village every year, especially when the annual boat festival was on. There were loads of people there so she could blend in quite easily.
She sat on the sand for a bit, making patterns with the toes of her shoes. Then, just out of the corner of her eye, she spotted William, a friend from school. She ran over to greet him.
“Hey, William. What are you up to?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just been to Graham’s house. Fancy hunting for treasure?” he asked.
“You’re a barm pot. There is no treasure on this beach,” snorted Polly Mae.
“Yes, there is so, and if you don’t come, I’ll go alone, so there,” William said in a huff.
“All right, all right…don’t get your pants in a twist,” Polly Mae said.
At least it was better than sitting alone.
William Stewart was eleven years old, and that made Polly Mae four months and two days older than he was, which in her eyes made her grown up—the boss so to speak. William had lived three doors down from Polly Mae for as long as she could remember, and they were best friends. William’s parents were originally from Ordiquhill, just outside Cornhill, and Cornhill was only six miles from Portsoy, so they had not moved far.
Polly Mae was glad William lived nearby. He was not only a good friend but also his mum was the school dinner lady, so she always got extra helpings of chocolate pudding with white sauce, which was her absolute favourite—or was it haggis neeps and tatties…or maybe even both! William spent most of his time down on the beach, sometimes going onto the fairground, and if he had any pocket money left, he would go on the waltzer until he felt sick. Many a time Polly Mae would laugh her socks off at William’s green face as he staggered off the rides at the fair.
They set off for the sand dunes, which had lots of bushes and long, spiky grass that really hurt if you touched the ends. Some of the blades were nearly as tall as they were. They began to search for buried treasure.
The sun was still high in the sky, so Polly Mae knew that they had lots of time before she had to sneak back home again. She smiled to herself thinking of where she should have been at this time.
They made their way to the old ice cream cabin. Long ago, you could buy twelve different flavours of ice cream and large cones with chocolate flakes in them for only 20 pence. It was a very rickety old cabin, but it was great to play games in, such as hide and seek or shops. It had a big, old wooden bench that was once used as a counter and lots of empty ice-cream boxes. There were tonnes of cobwebs hanging from the low ceiling, and it smelt of seaweed. All the kids loved to play there. Polly Mae opened the big door with a loud creak and gave it a push; William followed close behind. He was not as brave as Polly Mae claimed to be. They went inside and waited awhile until their eyes had got used to the dimness of the cabin.
“Pooh, it smells rotten,” William said, nose scrunched up in disgust.
“Oh, don’t act like a baby,” Polly Mae said. She pushed poor old William further into the room. William could hear a faint scratching noise.
“P-Polly M-Mae,” William stuttered. “I-it’s a g-g-ghost.”
“You silly billy, it must be a mouse or something,” she replied, giggling.
Still, Polly Mae thought she had better investigate the matter, and fast.
She moved an old chair with a strong push forward, her arms straight out to give her more strength as its stuffing hung out each side of the arms, seemed to make it heavier. The dust flew everywhere. The chair groaned, the floorboards creaked underneath her feet, threatening to swallow her up with the chair on top of her too! Polly Mae kicked away a pile of musty old newspapers with her foot and then got down on her hands and knees on the damp and dusty floor and peered into a hole in the wall, which was about as big as a football. She thought this was either an enormous mouse or the entrance to a secret cave that held gold and silver and pirate doubloons in big oak caskets with skull and cross bones laid neatly on the top, by some old landlubber
By now, poor William was standing on top of the old chair as the mouse started at him for just 2 seconds before the little mouse had scampered out of the hole, raced across the room, and ran right out of the open door, falling PLOP into the sand dunes.
“I forgot to tell you I’m scared of mice,” said a very shaky William.

 
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Posted by on February 17, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

‘A Goldsmith of Words’-“Life” in the Words of Amadeu de Prado

DE ALMEIDA PRADO, AMADEU INÁCIO (1920-1973). Featuring in Pascal Mercier‘s philosophical novel Night Train to Lisbon (later adapted into a film starring Jeremy Irons), Amadeu de Prado was born a ju…

Source: ‘A Goldsmith of Words’-“Life” in the Words of Amadeu de Prado

 
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Posted by on January 30, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Walking over eggshells. Book review.

Walking over Eggshells by Lucinda ClarkeWalking over Eggshells by Lucinda Clarke by Lucinda E. Clarke
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This was a difficult book to read. Not because it was it was a bad book by any means, but the subject matter was difficult as it’s was so close to my heart… the author takes us on a journey of the utmost emotions, who could not love a child? who could not hug a child? These things went through Lucinda’s mind very often indeed. Her, then husband Jeremy being the positive chaotic job seeking, job losing, husband, traveling from place to place with Jobs, new schools, houses, and countries varied. A very strong and emotional story, and I am so glad I actually met the author and at least give her a huge hug!!!
To find solace and love with her second husband was a wonderful way for the story to end.. but alas, the dreaded “mother” bit back even from beyond the grave causing more upset as usual.

A heart-rending account of a simply awful child and mother relationship!
Well written!!!

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Posted by on January 3, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Solstice Book review

SolsticeSolstice by K.W. Keith
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Solana Trent, a beautiful vivacious New York Times Journalist, This is a fast-paced, steamy, story, with all the trappings of the mafia V reporter’s savvy intelligence, along with the devastatingly handsome acquisition mogul Raine Mathison… Near clashes with the Mafia from being the hunter to the hunted.
A strong protagonist throughout the story. Way to Go Solana….

A love story if ever I had read one..

Love the ending … (no spoilers)

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Posted by on January 3, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Finding Fizz

‘Why do I feel this way? If this is heaven – a feast laid out for a man with no sense of taste – I stagger to imagine a hell.’

 

In the late sixteenth century, Sam awakens in a divine land of inimitable beauty, where a unicorn grazes on the banks of a rainbow lake, but all he feels is emptiness. It is his own poetic vision of heaven, but the reality is hellish: his death, the day before his twentieth birthday, has separated him from the love of his life and his heart has left him. Consequently, he is condemned to spend all of eternity in this soulless place.

 

Sam’s meddling guardian angel, Athena, is desperate to atone for her role in his heavenly imprisonment and although she can’t send him back to his own life, she breaks all the rules by allowing him to be reincarnated again and again – as many times as it takes for him to find Fizz, the love of his life. Sam’s fate, however, was written by a higher power and death will continue to stalk him through every one of his incarnations. Only when he has solved the mystery of his original death and avoided the same fate in his new life can he and Fizz finally live in peace.

 

For 5 days this is free 🙂 enjoy

Finding Fizz on Amazon

 
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Posted by on January 2, 2017 in Uncategorized