Synopsis

A psychological legal crime thriller

A lawyer, a murderer and a policeman – caught in a tangled web of love, loss, terror and intrigue in this driving psychological thriller. 

When criminal lawyer Julia Grant interviews Sam Smith who has been charged with a vicious murder, she feels a strange connection to him. 

Has she met him before? Does he hold a key to her lost childhood memories? 

He feels a connection too. 'Julia, you are the only one who can help me,' he pleads. 

Is it the same connection? Does he know something she cannot recall? 

When he is duly convicted despite her best efforts, he suddenly turns on her in the courtroom and threatens that one day he will make sure to wreak his revenge on her. 

But why? 

What has she ever done to him?

From the best-selling author of Golden Sapphire

Excerpt

The door to the jury room swung open. The seven men and five women filed in and took their seats. Julia glanced at the dock. Perched behind the thick protective glass Sam Smith looked immaculate in a fresh white shirt, the blond beard newly trimmed, nothing moving except those marble blue eyes. 

She saw Paul come in through the swing doors. He sat down in the seats reserved for the police, glanced at her and smiled ─ a slow half smile and a slightly raised eyebrow, as if to say that for only one of them would today's outcome be successful.  

She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and smiled back. Defence versus Prosecution. Part of the day's work. Only this time the stakes were higher than usual.  

Sam Smith was also watching her, his face so alien it was hard to imagine how the thoughts that had haunted her in the eight months she’d been preparing his defence had ever entered her mind. Even a hardened criminal like Smith must surely feel some trepidation now. But there was nothing. Not even a flicker to show he registered one iota of emotion. 

The Clerk of the Court rose to his feet. ‘Will the court please stand.’ 

The door opened. Mr Justice Steel strode to his red leather chair, scarlet and ermine robes flowing, wig well down his forehead. He nodded to the crowded court and sat down. 

Julia pressed her shoulders against the back of the bench. Another five minutes and it would all be over. And what then?

He might be free, but would she ever be?

The Clerk of the Court cleared his throat. ‘Will the foreman of the jury please stand.’ He looked directly at the foreman. ‘Have you reached a verdict upon which all of you are agreed?’

‘Yes,’ the foreman said.

Julia looked straight ahead. Remembering what Ben had told her this morning she cringed with embarrassment. ‘You’re the best young criminal lawyer in Manchester and you’d better make sure you uphold your reputation and that of our partnership,’ he’d said as she left for the court. Huh. A fat lot of good her reputation was doing her now.

Something made her look at Smith again as if he’d called her name out loud. Clearly he’d been waiting for her to look at him, knowing that

Synopsis

A true life story of four generations of a family plagued with kidney disease and death. Finally through the miracle of organ transplants, Harry was the first member of the family to live and have his transplant for forty one years. When their son Joe was inflicted with the disease, his transplant should have been highly successful in this day and age. It was however turned into a nightmare by the incompetence of the Cleveland Clinic hospital. The permanent injury to Chris, the donor, and the near death of Joe, the recipient, brings this family to the depths of despair and near suicide. Through a miracle of God they were given a copy of the surgery and made the shocking discovery of how these so called "world class surgeons" performed this surgery, and then tried to cover it up. As Joe and Chris suffer and their health declines, the family desperately searches through the medical cover up to save their lives. Only their faith and perseverance help them to ultimately triumph.

Excerpt

When we came back from Ripley, Joe asked me if Harry had any living relatives, and the age-old question came up of what had happened to them. I told him they had died of kidney disease. He told me he was going to be really pissed off if he ever got that disease.    

    About a month later, we realized that Joe’s blood pressure was getting higher. Again, we do nothing and are in denial until it is really high. It was then I knew why Hilda waited so long to see a doctor when Harry got sick.

    I called Harry at work and told him I was taking Joe to the ER. There was no sense going to the doctor and waiting for the results of a million tests. I knew the answer anyway and the waiting would kill me. Harry met me at the hospital.

    So here it was, again August 8, the same day I found out I had cancer and the same day Harry had the aneurysm surgery. Needless to say, I would hate that date from that day on. Harry was still hoping it was something else, but I knew better. I was a mess and Harry made me wait in the waiting room so I wouldn’t upset Joe.

     I just paced up and down the hall crying because I knew he was going to come out and tell me that Joe had kidney disease, my worst nightmare. I selfishly was glad he made me wait outside, because I could not stand to see Joe’s face when they told him. I had seen enough of that the night they told Harry he would probably die.

    They did several tests and finally realized from something that Joe said that our family had kidney disease. I myself would have told them to check that first, but I wasn’t there. Harry came out and told me they were checking his urine. I knew this was it. When Harry came back out again, he said they had told Joe his kidneys weren’t working well, and they were admitting him to the hospital.

    John and Carol called Joe; they both understood what we were going through. Dee Dee, my lifelong friend, and her daughter Amber came to visit that day. I had to go to work, so I went home for a while. I got home and just screamed “NO, NO, NO!” to the empty house. Even though I knew, I just could not believe that what I had always feared had finally happened. It was just too painful.

    The nephrologist came in the next day and we told him about the family having glomulernephritis, and he asked what kind. Well for all the years we refused to even discuss the subject, we didn’t know. How stupid could we be? Anyway, we needed to find out or they were going to do a kidney biopsy.

    I called Harry’s doctor i

Synopsis

Celebrate the ancient and powerful magic held within the Wheel of the Year with this clear and well-ordered guide. This book is much more than a guidebook; it offers everything needed to mark the changing of the seasons in a meaningful and fulfilling way. Within these pages are suggestions for activities, spells, guided meditations and lists of correspondences for each of the eight Sacred Festivals. Learn something of the role of the Goddess and her Consort and gain an understanding of the important role the Festivals played for our ancestors. Also included are guidance on Casting a Circle and collecting and cleansing the basic tools used for Craft work. Although aimed at those new to the Craft it will give the more knowledgeable tried and tested ways to celebrate these ancient and beloved Festivals.

Excerpt

Prepare for meditation in the usual way. When you are ready enter your forest. Take the time to feel the earth beneath you and the breeze on your skin. Smell the trees and plants that surround you. A path is before you. You follow it to a clearing. In the centre is a large boulder draped with ivy. Go to the boulder and look around you. It has been a long hot day but now the sun is beginning to go down and the light slants through the trees making bars of sunlight beneath them. As you look through the bars of light and shadow an animal comes into view. It stands and watches you for a while and then turns back into the forest as if asking you to follow. You do so and it leads you through the trees until you come to the foot of a steep hill. At the top of the hill you see a huge fire sending sparks and coils of smoke high into the air. Your animal guide leads you up the hill toward the fire and then waits for you at a safe distance from the flames. From the top of the hill you can look out over the forest. There are other fires scattered as far as you can see. It seems as though every hill has its fire, all glowing red and orange all except for one. This one is the tallest of them all and the furthest away. It glows piercingly white.

Sit in the warmth from the fire and find the things you no longer wish to carry around with you; old hurts, old disappointments, old quarrels. If they make you feel restless and uncomfortable look to your animal guide for support. It is standing in the shadows waiting for you. You know the time has come to part with all those things that are holding you back from reaching your full potential. Visualise taking each of those troubling thoughts one by one and dropping them into the fire. Do it with love. They were originally there for a reason, now they have simply overstayed their welcome. Watch as the flames convert them into light releasing them and carrying them up into the air to be swept away in the powerful outgoing tide of Litha. Sit for a while. Watch the last of the midsummer sun’s rays fade. From tomorrow the days will begin to grow shorter but there is much life and growth left in the year. Now you are free from the burdens allow yourself to look forward to taking part in it.

When it is quite dark stand and re-join your animal guide who will lead you safely back to the ivy covered boulder. Enjoy the walk in the woods; know you are safe with your guide. Hear the night noises and smell the damp earth as it breaths out after the long hot day. When you arrive at the boulder thank your animal guide and know you will see it again. Prepare to return to the room you are sitting in. Take it slowly.

When you are ready ground yourself by having a drink or something to eat or both. If you feel really spaced out go into the garden and do a little gardening but whatever you do be sure

Synopsis

Hym and Hur are a young couple who never age and have been in love for more than a century.  They also possess an array of magical abilities, two of which are either to play pranks on humankind or to perform good deeds.  Enacting both at the same time is now what gets them into trouble, especially since it's the unruly character of Death they must deal with to bring their plans to fruition.

The prank Hym and Hur have come up with must first be agreed upon by Death, who happens to be a rambunctious, difficult character.  Once agreed upon, the prank is set in motion.  Hym and Hur soon discover Death had tricked them into a contract with dire consequences for all of us.

During their attempt to break the contract, Hym and Hur try to save the relationship of an earthbound couple, knowing they are truly meant for each other.  A good deed that will bring Hym and Hur even more trouble.

Excerpt

A bright flash lit up the restaurant window. The waitress snapped her eyes shut, thinking it was the sun bouncing off a windshield. Blinking her eyes open, she noticed the booth alongside the window was occupied. A booth she could have sworn had just been empty, and she made her way over to it.

Hym set the breakfast menu down. "Coffee," he said to the waitress, "and can I get a hot fudge sundae at this hour?"

"No problem," she told him. "And for you, ma'am?"

"Hot tea," Hur said, "and a slice of cherry pie with two scoops of vanilla ice cream."

"Sounds great," the waitress smiled, and she left them.

"What'll we do today?" Hur asked Hym.

Searching for an answer, his hazel eyes filled with mischief. "How about this?" he whispered. "For twenty-four hours we give everyone in Los Angeles bad luck."

"But most of them already have bad luck," Hur said. "And it would be a negative. Why not give everybody good luck?"

"Not really my kind of fun," he slouched.

In the silence that followed, each tried to come up with something.

"Breakfast time," the waitress announced. She served the drinks and desserts, and then was off to the next booth.

Hur's blue eyes brightened. "I got it," she said, and it was her turn to whisper. "For a day or two, no one in Los Angeles dies."

Hym slapped his forehead. "That is great!"

"Oh-darn," she said. "We'll have to get you-know-who to go along with it."

"Why wouldn't he?" Hym said as he dug happily into his sundae. "It'll give him a chance to shorten his list."

Hur nodded skeptically as she took a big bite of her dessert.

Barney's Beanery had just opened. There were only two customers at the bar. A chubby old woman sipped a beer at one end. At the other sat Death tossing back a shot of Jim Beam.

He grimaced with delight, slammed his glass down and said, "Barkeep—I'll have another."

Pouring the drink, the bartender eyed Death's black coat and fedora, the pale skin and long gnarled fingers. "Perfect weather for a coat," he cracked, "must be only about 80 out there."<

Synopsis

The Field of Blackbirds begins when Arben Shala disappears in Eastern Europe. Jeff Bradley, a recently retired special forces soldier, promises Arben’s wife to uncover the mystery behind his disappearance and bring her husband home. Jeff travels to the UN administered Serbian province of Kosovo still in a state of political uncertainty after the Yugoslavian conflict. With help from American Morgan Delaney, Barry Briggs an Australian working with the UN and the enigmatic Lee Caldwell an agent for the world’s largest private security firm, Jeff uncovers a criminal conspiracy responsible for a series of bombings across Europe. 

Ignoring death threats Jeff and Morgan dig deeper and when the shocking truth behind Arben’s disappearance is finally uncovered it sets in motion a chain of events that brings Kosovo to the brink of civil war and NATO troops onto the streets of Kosovo’s major cities. 

Synopsis

Jules Finn and Szaja Trautman know that sorrow can sink deeply--so deeply it can drown the soul.

Growing up in her parents’ crazy hippie household on a tiny island off the coast of Boston, Jules’s imaginative sense of humor is the weapon she wields as a defense against the chaos of her family’s household. Somewhere between routine discipline with horsewhips, gun-waving gambling debt collectors, and LSD-laced breakfast cereal adventures, tragedy strikes a blow from which Jules may never recover.

Jules’s story alternates with that of her grandfather, Szaja, an orthodox Jew who survives the murderous Ukranian pogroms of the 1920s, the Majdanek death camp, and the torpedoing of the Mefkura, a ship carrying refugees to Palestine. Unable to deal with the horrors he endures at the camp, Szaja develops a dissociative disorder and takes on the persona of a dead soldier from a burial ditch, using that man’s thoughts to devise a plan to escape to America.

While Szaja’s and Jules’s sorrows are different on the surface, adversity requires them both to find the will to live despite the suffering in their lives—and both encounter, in their darkest moments, what could be explained as serendipity or divine intervention. For Jules and Szaja, these experiences offer the hope the need in order to come to the rescue of their own fractured lives.

Excerpt

September 5th, 1923. Ivnitza, Russian Empire.

We lived near the Teteriv River in a small village called Ivnitza, which is surrounded by ancient forests. Zhytomyr, the nearest city, sat north of us.

This is the day my mater and foter left the Ukraine, which had, in recent years, been swallowed up like a pig’s dinner and become part of Russia. I am thirteen years old. Mater and Foter also left me, my two younger brothers Idel and your uncle Oizer, my two older twin sisters Ruchel and Sura, and my eldest sister, Reizel, your aunt Rose, eighteen and married to a young man named Berl. We are left on my Bubbe Chava’s farm.

That day they began their long travels to Turkey and to the eventual sailing to America. They are going to make a new life for us. My foter promised to send for us as soon as he could.

Every night, for weeks, we spent the evenings helping to pack. This involved much more laughing, singing, and making fun of my foter’s terrible dancing than actual work. The day before, we had finished the last of the apple harvesting from our orchards. It had been a good year for fruit. First the cherries in the spring, and now the apples. We made more money in the markets these two past seasons than in the years before—the years of the famine.

Since they are leaving before the Rosh Hashana holiday, my foter said we should say the religious poems, the piyyuttim, together. Mater, Reizel and the twins made a feast of food—apples dipped in honey, rodanchas, potato latkes, and delicious challah bread, finished with a delicious Lekach cake with cinnamon and raisins. This I remember as the first time my belly felt full in nearly two years.

The three youngest children—including Idessa, still a baby of five months—would leave on the journey with my parents. I am to take charge of my two younger brothers; Ruchel and Sura would help with their care. Reizel and Berl would take charge of all of us. My foter, Abram, like most of the people in our village, spoke Yiddish

Synopsis

It is the year 1586. England is awash with traitors, plotting to assassinate the Queen and bring about a foreign invasion. The young physician Christoval Alvarez, a refugee from the horrors of the Portuguese Inquisition, is coerced into becoming a code-breaker and agent in Sir Francis Walsingham’s secret service. In the race to thwart the plot, who will triumph – the ruthless conspirators or the equally ruthless State?

Excerpt

I was washing alembics when he came. Often, in the months and years that followed, I wondered how things might have turned out, had I been away from home. My father had been summoned to one of his private patients and I had pleaded to go with him to the great man’s house, for I had never even stepped over the threshold of the mansion in the Strand, but the winter had been severe, we were short of many remedies, and I must stay at home and wash the alembics so that we might spend the evening distilling. I did not like being alone in the house, with the dark afternoon heavy in the sky outside, and chill draughts plucking at the back of my neck like the unforgiving fingers of the dead. The old timbers of the house swayed and creaked and moaned in the wind.

My father entrusted the delicate glass vessels, so costly to replace, to no one but me. His own hands had grown unsteady with age and our maid Joan could shatter an earthenware pitcher on the far side of the room merely by looking at it. So I had heated water over the fire until it was hot to the touch, but bearable, and poured it into the big basin which was used only for the instruments of our profession. From a pot on the windowsill I scooped out half a handful of the grey soap, the consistency of soft cheese, and stirred it into the steaming water.

It was cold in the kitchen, and for a moment I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth soothing my hands and the smell of the lavender and rosemary oils I mixed with the soap. Then I lowered the first alembic into the water and wiped it over with a rag, dipping and pouring until the tubes and nozzles were clean. Rinsed free of soap (for no foreign body must contaminate our remedies), it stood draining on the wooden table while I picked up the next one.

The row of four was drying on the table as I lifted the heavy basin across to where my father had contrived a drain to run out through the wall and empty into the street outside. The sudden rush of water sometimes gave passers-by a soaking. It was just as I poured the water away that I heard the running footsteps approaching our door. I glanced around fearfully. Joan was away at the market and my father would not return for an hour or more. There was nowhere to hide. The water pouring out of the house would have given away my presence. And I had lit a candle, the better to see my work, even though it was not yet dark outside. The room was illuminated like a play at one of the indoor playhouses, the candlelight reflected off the glass vessels, gleaming warmly on the dark oak of table and benches, chest and cupboard. I had no time to retreat to the inner parlour.

We do not readily open our doors to strangers, the people of my nation.

I saw a blur as someone ran past the window, then he was pounding on the door and crying out something incoherent.

So I must answer. On such trivial matters may a life turn, to follow a new road – to heaven or hell? Who knows? All I knew at the time was that I did not want to answer, and I wished my father were there.

When I opened the door, the boy blew in on a gust of bitter January air, bringin

Synopsis

Dr. Jack Gallagher, one of Marietta, Montana's most eligible bachelors, hasn't been serious about a woman since his wife died five years ago. He's been content to date occasionally, practice medicine and raise his teenage daughter.

Then happily divorced former fashion model, Maya Parrish, moves back to Marietta, with her own teenaged daughter in tow forcing Jack to rethink his casual dates only rule. Maya, Jack's high school girlfriend and almost fiancée, may have broken his heart the night of their high school graduation, but the moment Jack and Maya meet again, all the sizzle and sparks, and then some, come rushing back.

Maya is ready to give love a second try. Jack isn't sure he can take that chance again. He knows how quickly happiness can be ripped away, leaving heartbreak in its place.  

Can a mad, passionate affair last or will it burn itself out as quickly as it began?

Excerpt

Marietta had grown, of course, but it was still a small town, with that lovely small town flavor. Of course, there was also the “everyone knows everything about you and your business” angle of living in a small town, but that seemed a small price to pay for such a great place to raise her child. Marietta was a beautiful place, situated to the north of Paradise Valley, in between the Absaroka Mountains and the Gallatin Range. Copper Mountain rose to the west of town, lending dignity and majesty to the view with its purple and white peaks, and the green of the Evergreens and spots of yellow where the Aspens had only just started to turn.

There was only one possible fly in the ointment. One tiny little thing she was worried about. Living in the same town as Jack Gallagher again. Dr. Jack Gallagher now. Along with the mountains and her family, she’d left Jack behind when she left Marietta to pursue her modeling career, in Dallas, Texas.

Jack Gallagher. Her almost fiancé, whom she’d almost jilted at the altar, the night of their high school graduation.

#

Maya had plenty of time before she needed to worry about seeing Jack again. Right now, she was driving to the high school with her daughter in tow. Some bright soul had decided the Spirit Club should have a party shortly after school started, so that all the students and parents could get to know each other. The same bright soul had also decided to make it a potluck supper. Maya had volunteered to make her famous Death by Chocolate dessert. It was always a crowd pleaser. Not to mention, it was one of few desserts Maya knew how to make.

She asked Carmen to help her carry everything in, since she not only had the glass compote full of the dessert, but also various bags of paper plates, napkins, and plastic cutlery. So much for that promise. Maya hadn’t even turned off the car before Carmen dashed off to see some friends. “Carmen, wait,” Maya called, watching her daughter’s retreating back. Typical, she thought. Determined to make only one trip, Maya balanced the heavy dish in one hand and the bags in the other and headed for the gym doors.

Holding the compote carefully, she reached with her other hand for the double wide doors just as they swung open. She jumped back to avoid being smacked by them, losing her precarious grip on everything, including the dessert.

“Da—darn it!” she yelled, just in time to see her beautiful masterpiece slide right out of her hands and land upside down on the door ma

Synopsis

When she was a child, the author happily identified with all the male heroes she read about in stories that began, "Once upon a time, a young man went out to seek his fortune." But she would have been delighted to discover even one story like that with a female protagonist. Since she never did find the story she was looking for all those years ago, she decided to write it.

In Book I of the trilogy, Tamras arrives in Merin’s house to begin her apprenticeship as a warrior, but her small stature causes many, including Tamras herself, to doubt that she will ever become a competent swordswoman. To make matters worse, the Lady Merin assigns her the position of companion, little more than a personal servant, to a woman who came to Merin’s house, seemingly out of nowhere, the previous winter, and this stranger wants nothing to do with Tamras.

Excerpt

In ancient days, when only women were warriors, lived a young girl and her mother in a cottage at the edge of the forest. All around the cottage were meadows where they grazed their sheep, and in the springtime flowers of great beauty grew there. The forest was a dark and dangerous place, the abode of wolves. In wintertime, the hungry wolves came in search of sheep, and every year they killed at least a few.

All her life the girl had feared the forest. One summer day, when the flowers in the meadow had all bloomed and faded, she sat near her flock in the shade of an old oak at the forest’s edge. The day was hot, and soon she slept. The sound of singing filled her dreams. She awoke, and still she heard it. Sometimes one voice, sometimes many, echoed among the trees.

The girl followed the sound. Deep she went into the forest, deep into the dark beneath the trees, until she came to a clearing where flowers grew. They were all the colors of the night — the violet of twilight, the pale silver of the moon, the rose of dawn. In her delight, she fell to her knees and began to pick them.

She had forgotten that it was the song she’d followed, but when the singing stopped, she remembered. She stood up and put the flowers she had gathered into the folds of her tunic. Then she began to be afraid. She turned for home but could not find her way. Night was falling.

As the darkness deepened, she saw the amber eyes of wolves glowing in the shadows. The wolves drew near, until they were all around her. The whole pack of them pressed in on her, so that she could not tell one wolf from the other.

They began to run, and she had no choice but to run with them. It felt to her as if her body ran on all fours, as if she were gathering her arms and legs beneath her before springing forward with a power she had never had before. Her eyes could see as well in darkness as in daylight. Her ears attuned themselves to every sound. She heard the wings of night birds as they pursued their prey, the scurrying feet of mice, the beating hearts of hunted animals, and their last cries.

New smells too came to her on the air — the rotting of the forest floor, the breath of leaves, the bite of water as they passed a brook, the scent of each wolf, as distinct as the faces of the people she knew. She ran and ran until she had no memory of herself, and her waking life became a dream that shimmered at the edges of her mind.

In the morning the girl awoke beneath the oak tree. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she caught sight of a wolf as it va

Synopsis

Professor Kompressor is an inventor. He is excellent at inventing, but the inventions are not always excellent.

The first book in the series about Professor Kompressor, an ever-so-slightly misguided inventor, contains 12 entertaining episodes from the Professor's inventing career.

When the Professor sets out to improve the world, unexpected things happen. Making your mechanical helper too clever might be an obvious mistake, but who would have known that tinkering with an old Volkswagen Beetle could turn out to be so dangerous? 

And who would have thought that a time machine would turn out to be such a waste of… well… time? 

Professor Kompressor is a fictional character but his adventures are inspired by ideas from science and the modern world. They show that you can have a lot of fun with science and technology, especially if you allow for a little bit of creative mis-interpretation.

A book that entertains children of all ages from Professor Nils Andersson, award-winning author and an authority on matters of gravity and the extremes of our weird and wonderful Universe.

Excerpt

Professor Kompressor loved the idea of travelling. He had numerous travel books in his library and he enjoyed finding out about the world. It was amazing how people from various parts of the planet were so different, yet basically the same.


The idea made the Professor excited, but unfortunately travelling did not agree with him. He always got himself confused, lost the tickets or his passport or forgot the name of the hotel he was staying in. He did not find it easy to get up early in the morning, and there was not a single mode of transport that agreed with him. Bumpy airplanes, rickety buses, unsteady bicycles... He could not stand any of them. It was remarkable how someone could be so excited about finding out about other places, yet so reluctant to go anywhere.


At the end of the day, the Professor was a stationary traveller. He was happy to travel in his mind. Only very rarely did he actually go anywhere.


Indeed, this is not the story of where he went. It is the story of when.


It was late in the evening. The air was still warm and Professor Kompressor was sitting outside in the garden. There was a beautiful sunset, and he was drinking the last mouthfuls of a very satisfying cup of tea. It had been a busy old day, and now the Professor was tired. But he was enjoying the evening, so he stayed in the garden. Thinking about everything and nothing.


A very odd thought came into his head. It was something he had heard when he was young. Possibly part of some oddball scientific theory, perhaps complete nonsense. It did not really matter. It was still an interesting thought.


“We travel into the future at the speed of one second every second...” thought the Professor.


“Nice idea,” he mused.


“Is it true, though?”


He could not help wondering, and once he started thinking he could not stop.

It did not take the Professor long to agree that the statement had to be true. We clearly do move into the future one second every second. But the word travel concerned him. In what sense was this actual trav