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Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Loving the Book Presents: Fated by Joanne Kershaw: #Review & #Giveaway

"No matter the cost, someone must defeat the darkness."

Disclosure of Material Connection:  I received this book for review from Loving the Book and the author.  I was not compensated nor was I required to write a positive review.  The opinions I have expressed are my own.  I am posting this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255:  "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising".

Rating:  4 1/2 Stars

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Twitter @Kershaw_Joanne

The author has created a world where a young woman has had to grow up quickly in order to fulfill what is expected of her.  Elora gets her love story with someone, name of Zak, she thought lost to her all while fighting some dark forces.  This may be listed as a YA read but adults will enjoy it as well.  A disappointment I had in having this book on my e-reader was that it kept telling me how much time was left to finish the book.  This is a book that you don’t want to know how much time you have – you want to be able to sit back, relax, and just enjoy where this author takes us.

This is a book that could be read as a stand-alone but I think you would be doing a disservice if you didn’t read these books in order.  It’s a story that builds over the course of these three books.  You wouldn’t start watching a movie in the middle or the end; you would start at the beginning.  This series should be the same way.  And only you can decide how you feel about the ending.  But I do hope that you will give this series a chance.

Training Log
Vanguard: Elora Walker
Day: 278
Posting: Keystone, Earth’s End
Quad Commander: Marcus Vaughn
Vanguard Superior: Elias Adamsson

Reported for duty. Marcus informed us that we were on standard patrol in Breakers. Resisted the urge to complain about the boring routine of hitting the same town for the eleventh night in a row. I know my luck—that’s just asking for trouble.
Departed on foot for Breakers. Was still pretty warm so the long run in black uniform was unpleasant, but not unusual. Nothing else to report. It was still too light out for much of the local Dark Seeker population to grace us with their presence. Received a ‘gentle reminder’ from Marcus that they could all here my not-so-polite complaints through the mental link. Made a point to stop complaining about the heat and apologised. (Honestly, only mentioning it because he won’t and I was in the wrong.)
Encountered a single vampire. He was young, turned within the last fifty years at a guess. It was clear to us that he was hunting. We stalked and surrounded using the box formation, made much easier by our ability to communicate without speaking aloud. Vampire was captured by 23:02 with no injuries. He was logged in to command, who sent a detention vehicle for him (or it, whichever you prefer).
Returned to open patrol after transfer of the detained vampire. Water break at 00:00, but no other observations to report throughout the patrol.
Marcus ordered return to Keystone. A quiet night on patrol, but a long time to run for. The half hour run back to base was icing on the cake. Made a note to request (again) that vehicles be used to collect quads at the end of long patrols out here. Dehydration took out three more Vanguards last week. That makes almost twenty-five in the last month. It’s hot, we run for nine to ten hours, without a break, and the run back is an unnecessary and cruel punishment. Why can’t we just catch a bus?
Training session with Vanguard Leith. Focus was on new approaches towards tracking. Received another informal reprimand that making jokes during training wasn’t appropriate, even if the only people who could hear them were my quad and I. Apologised to Vanguard Leith, who shrugged because she hadn’t noticed. (Again, Marcus won’t say anything so I will.) Training was interesting and the teabag approach may be useful. For my own reference at a later date, the teabag approach is a method of distraction used to draw focus onto one player in the field to allow the others to flank and then tighten up around the Dark Seeker, while reducing the risk of confrontation.
Dinner followed by endurance training. Twelve mile run (because we don’t run enough out here) followed by weights and some yoga to stretch out the muscles. Then Marcus and I worked on my hand to hand techniques, with a focus on ensuring that I use my diminutive height to my advantage. Worked long enough and hard to enough to sustain minor injury to my left shoulder. Marcus ordered me to get checked out.
Reported to the infirmary. Suggested to the nurse they name a wing after me—not sure she saw the funny side. Doctor confirmed injury was just muscular and would heal with rest over a few days. After reading through my notes again, the Doctor then asked if I understood the concept of rest. I recall rolling my eyes but this wasn’t seen as reprimand-worthy, this time. I assured the doctor I would take it easier than usual. I tried to be convincing and was sent away with pain killers to take.
Bed. Signed off duty until later today. Call-back time is 17:15 due to dual quad mission.
Went for a run. Unable to sleep due to pain in shoulder, bad dreams and stress. Took the outer path which tracks around the wall. Presence was confirmed by Vanguards at all nine checkpoints. Did three laps before stopping in at the Sanctuary for some quiet reflection.
Breakfast with my quad. Marcus seemed worried about the mission, but I think he’s just over protective. Simon and Maria spent a lot of time making jokes at his expense, but there were no further reprimands (formal or otherwise).

I certify that this is a true and honest account:      Elora Walker    

(PS: Mom, if you wanted to read my reports, you could have just asked. I would have sent them to you. No need to ask Marcus to do it for you. And seriously, he can’t keep a secret from me, so why did you try? Love you. E)

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May 1

Release Day: Hell To Pay by Jenny Thomson

Title:  Hell To Pay
Series:  Crimes Files Book #1
Author:  Jenny Thomson
Publisher:  Limitless Publishing
Release Date:  April 28th 2015
Genre:  Mystery\Thriller

Nancy Kerr refuses to be a victim—even when she walks in on her parents’ killers and is raped and left for dead… 

Fourteen months later, Nancy wakes up in a psychiatric hospital with no knowledge of how she got there. 

Slowly, her memory starts to return. 

Released from the institution, she has just one thing on her mind—two men brought hell to her family home. 

Now they’re in for some hell of their own…

Hell To Pay is Book One is a Series

✢ ✢ ✢ Oneclick ✢ ✢ ✢

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Author Information:
Jenny Thomson is an award-winning crime writer who has been scribbling away all her life. She also writes as Jennifer Thomson.

Inspired by her love of zombies and The Walking Dead, she wrote The Restless Dead. 

She kills people for a living in the Crime File series of books for Limitless Publishing. Book 1, 2 and 3, will be out soon.

To find out more details, check out her publisher's site at

Her novella, How Kirsty Gets Her Kicks, about a one legged Glasgow barmaid who goes on the run with a gun and a safe load of gangster's cash after killing one of his henchmen, will be published by the critically acclaimed Snubnose Press.

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  ✢ EXCERPT   

Chapter 1

I’m cold, colder than I’ve ever been in my entire life and I don’t know why. Slowly, I 

open my eyes, tentatively at first because even opening them a fraction feels like 

someone's shoving red-hot pins into them. The light is so bright.

What’s with the light anyway?

Has Michael wandered in, blootered on some poncy new beer and left the light on, 

after collapsing in a heap onto the bed?  I’ll brain him if he has. I’m no good to 

anyone when I don’t get my eight hours.

Pulling myself up in bed, I reach out my arm to nudge him awake so I can give him a 

right mouthful. My hand finds empty space.

Where is he?

My eyes sting as I prise them open – it’s as though there's been an accident with false 

lashes and I've glued my eyelashes together - and that’s when I realise I’m not in our 

flat. The reason I’m freezing is because I’m wearing a tracing paper thin hospital 

gown: the kind that shows off your backside when you’re being whisked off to x-ray.

A tidal wave of panic hits me and I jerk into full consciousness.

What’s happened to me?

I try to remember, but my brain’s all bunged up as if the top of my head's been 

removed and the cavity filled with cotton wool.

My arms are bandaged up. Have I been in an accident?  If I have, I don’t remember. 

Maybe I hit my head. 

I take in my surroundings. If I’m in hospital, it’s no ordinary one. For one thing, my 

room’s more like a cell. There’s a bed and a table bolted to the floor, but no personal 

stuff: photos, or cards, or stuffed animals from people wishing me well. Does anyone 

even know I’m here? 

I grope for a call button to get a nurse, but there isn’t one. What the hell? This place is 

a prison. 

Staggering out of bed, I fight the wave of nausea and dizziness that make me want to 

yell at the world to stop moving because I want to get off the carousel. The tile floor 

is stone cold and there are no slippers by the bed. My feet are ice blocks. Why don’t I 

have any socks or tights on?  

Before I reach the door, there's a jingle of keys, then a key scrapes in the lock. 

Holding my breath, I brace myself for what’s coming. 

A woman I don’t recognize with brown hair tied back in a ponytail appears. She’s 

dressed in a nurse’s uniform and there’s a small smile playing on the edge of her lips.

"Good, you’re awake, Nancy."

She sounds pleased, as if we’re bosom buddies, when I’ve never seen her before in 

my life.

"Where am I?"

My voice comes out as a rasp as though my throat’s been sandpapered down.

The nurse puts a hand on my shoulder. "Let’s get you back into bed, Nancy."

I do as she says. I’m worried if I don’t lie back, I’ll faint.

"You’re in Parkview Hospital," she says, as she fixes the pillows so I can sit upright.

I know all the hospitals in Glasgow, but I haven’t heard of that one. I ask her what 

kind of hospital it is and she tells me it’s a psychiatric facility. The reason I haven’t 

heard of it, is because they don’t publicize it. Perhaps because it’s full of nutters they 

want to keep away from society. The prospect terrifies me because that would mean 

they must think I’m cuckoo. Why else would I be here?  

I suck in my breath. When I ask her if this is a nut house, she presses her lips tightly 

together as she tells me no one refers to psychiatric hospitals in that way any more. 

Suitably chastised, I mumble an apology not because I think one’s needed, but 

because she’s the one with the keys.

"Why am I here?"

I’m dreading the answer, but I need to know. I don’t feel any different. Surely if I’d 

lost my mind, I'd know.

"You had a breakdown."

The way she says it, she could be talking about the weather.

She asks me if I want anything and I tell her a pair of proper pajamas, a dressing 

gown and slippers would be nice because I’m an ice block. If she gets in touch with 

Mum, she’ll bring me in some stuff. 

Her smile’s still there, but breaks down around the corners of her mouth. There’s 

something she’s not telling me, because she’s worried how I’ll react. There’s fear in 

her eyes. I notice she’s wearing a lucky heather brooch, the same one I got for Mum. 

I’m staring at it as she tells me she’s going to fetch a doctor, when a memory stirs 

inside me and no matter how hard I try to push it away, someone’s taken their finger 

out the dyke and the water’s rushing in. 

Blood, blood everywhere. Dad’s slumped in his favorite armchair, head bent forward 

as if in prayer (he never prayed a day in his life); a single bullet hole in his head. I 

know it’s him, even although his face has been beaten to a pulp: his blood staining the 

fireside rug my mum was so fond of. Even in death, my dad has a presence. He fills a 

room with the sheer weight of his personality. Discarded nearby is the baseball bat 

they used on him. It’s covered in blood and something sticky and dark brown, 

resembling raw mincemeat.


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