Happy September 18th! by Nancy M Bell

Hello! This is my first monthly post and I'm very happy to be here.

This is me! Photo credit Unique Perspectives Monique de St. Croix

First, just let me say I love Books We Love and how happy I am that I made the brilliant decision to come here. I'm a bit of an eclectic writer. I dabble in poetry, a bit of non fiction and mostly I write YA fantasy and contemporary romance. That being said my current work in progress is a horror/thriller about Jack the Ripper. It's a new twist on the old rehashed theories. Because he could have been anyone, and there are good arguments for quite a few suspects, I basically had carte blanche when it came to how I shaped him. He really is a twisted dark person, but I have tried to give him a bit of a human face. My ultimate goal is not to make the reader like him but to at least feel some sympathy for him at some point in the story. We'll see how that goes.
I'm looking forward to the Masters class with Jack Whyte that I'm attending at the Surrey International Writers Conference. Each participant submits three pages of a work in progress and then Jack reads it out (a treat in itself) and the group discusses what works and what doesn't. It is a very interesting and enlightening process.

Me and Jack Whyte! Taken at Surrey International Writers Conference 2010

Pandora's Boox and Teas in Olds, Alberta is carrying my YA Laurel's Quest on their shelves. If you're up that way or int he neighborhood please drop in and say hi to the owners. The store is chock full of books, cool journals, over 60 types of loose tea and tea paraphernalia. I spent a good hour and a half drooling over the selection. Needless to say I came away with some new reading material and some scrumptious teas.

Christmas Storm is a romance set in Longview, Alberta. I'm working on the last edits and am hoping to have it released by Books We Love in time for the Christmas season. One of the secondary characters is the rescue dog, Storm. She tends to steal whatever scene she is in. LOL Which brings me to my latest adventure... I volunteer with a rescue group in Calgary, Alberta Animal Rescue Crew Society. I promised my husband I would only volunteer but not foster... Ummmm Yeah... about that... On Monday I brought home a very pregnant young dog who was surrendered to us. All the whelping foster homes were full and I just couldn't leave her in the kennel all pregnant and... well you know how it goes.

My husband is up for saint hood of course. He never batted an eye. In retrospect he was probably relieved it wasn't a horse, or a sheep, or.... The poor man never knows what will be waiting for him when he gets home at night. We fostered a sheep for over a year until his people got a place where they could keep him with them. I still miss Sheep (I know not very original) His people call him Spot, Doug calls him Ramses. Somehow Sheep just works for me LOL

I hope you'll drop by every month on the 18th and see what new trouble I've gotten myself into. There will be puppy cuteness coming soon so by October 18th there will be pictures. If anyone is in or near Calgary, Alberta this weekend AARCS is having a Jail and Bail on Saturday September 20th, please come by and support the great work this organization does.
You'll notice as you read my books, there is always animals included, usually horses, but not always. In A Step Beyond, book 2 in The Cornwall Adventures, the war stallion is quite the ham. I've grown very fond of him, I must say.

Till next time... Keep reading and I'll keep writing... Cheers

I'm on Facebook at AuthorNancyMBell
You can follow me on Twitter @emilypikkasso It's my horse's name and her father's name so no, it's not weird at all LOL
You can find my books at my Amazon.com Author Central Page
Please visit my author page at Books We Love.

Please keep in mind, to find me search for Nancy M Bell or Nancy Marie Bell. There are other Nancy Bells out there, but they're not me!

Introducing Bast's Warrior - Ancient Egypt #MFRWauthor #Suspense #BooksWeLove

1. Just released today. An alternate ancient Egypt with no pyramids or the Sphinx but with action and adventure with the avatars of the three gods worshipped aiding the hero and heroine.

   

   Bast's Warrior (An Alternate Egypt Book 1)

   www.amazon.com

   Tira flees a threat to her life and encounters two elderly women who offer her the chance to be sent to an alternate ancient Egypt with no thought of return. She has had a fascination with Egypt...

Just released, Bast's Warrior is the first book in a trilogy involving my love of ancient Egypt with a bit of a twist. There is a reason for making this an alternate world story. The other twist is while the story could be considered a time travel, it really isn't since the characters don't return to an ancient Egypt we know and have many artifacts from. The why for the change is "there were no camels in Egypt during the time I had targeted for the series." I so wanted camels meaning I had to find a place where they could exist. Enter an alternate world.

Tira is the modern heroine who is sent back to this world. The time is around the ending of the Hyksos, mysterious invaders who are never really identified in what is known about this ancient world. Because of my interest in Astrology, the means of sending her back is by casting her horoscope and the spinning of a giant horoscope wheel.

So Here's a look at the Heroine. Tira wanted three things in life and she had little chance of gaining any of them. She wanted to be financially independent. She wanted to go to Egypt and study the ancient ruins. And she wanted her sister to stop using drugs.

The last desire brought memories of this morning’s quarrel.  The money squirreled away to see them through the rest of the month was gone. “Luci, why?”

“You don’t understand,” Luci screamed.

True. She didn’t understand why her sister needed to escape into a drugged stupor instead of studying and working to step onto the road leading from the slums. Tira’s hands stung with the memory of slapping her sister. And the words she’d shouted as she slammed out of the apartment echoed in her thoughts. “I hate you. I wish you were dead.” A shudder rumbled through her body. She hadn’t meant those words. As soon as she reached the apartment she would tell Luci.

With a sigh she turned back to the museum display. The Egyptian artifacts awed her. For a short time she allowed the beauty of the objects to carry her into dreams of pyramids and temples, of gods and pharaohs and of digging in the earth to uncover treasures of the past.

The dream hovered beyond her grasp. Her chances of gaining a position on a dig in Egypt were slim. Positions were avidly sought by students who had chosen the right colleges and the right professors. Those choices had been beyond her financially. She sucked in a breath. Instead of adventure, when the summer ended, she would take her place in front of a classroom teaching history at an inner city high school.

A glance at her watch said dreamtime was over. She had to reach the apartment in time to change for her evening shift at a restaurant several blocks from the cramped fifth floor efficiency she shared with her older sister. Once again, flash moments from the morning’s quarrel exploded in Tira’s thoughts. She’d been so upset she’d missed her morning martial arts session at the local center.

Tira cast her dreaming self aside and donned the role of practical sister. She hurried to the exit and stepped from the past into a steamy August day. Heat shimmered from the sidewalk. The air hung heavy and filled with the odors of the city and the noises of traffic. She strode along the crowded area taking advantage of every opening.

Ten days to dream. Ten days to walk the halls of the museum. Ten days to study the artifacts that had become her lodestones. She breathed the aromas of real time, spices of cooking foods, metallic scents of passing traffic and the odors of people, some pleasant and some not.

Several blocks from the apartment building the crowds thinned. In an alley she glimpsed furtive movements in the dark shadows. She hurried past. On the corner across the street a group of gang members gathered. She sucked in a breath and held her head high. For all her twenty three years she’d avoided the gangs. As she strode past she heard the usual crude remarks about her body and her attitude.

Get a life, she wanted to scream.

When she saw the ambulance and two cop cars in front of the building where she lived she halted so abruptly she stumbled. A hand caught her arm. Tira saw the gray-streaked beard of one of the winos who slept in the doorways or the alley. “Get your hands off me.”

“Don’t go home,” he whispered. “Lose yourself in the crowd and keep your head down.”

She saw a keen intelligence in the man’s dark eyes. Who was he? He wasn’t as old as she had imagined either. “Why?”

“Your sister’s dead. Cops’ll be looking for you. They heard about the fight.”

Tira’s stomach clenched. She blinked away a rush of tears. Though hearing about her sister’s death wasn’t unexpected another dream shattered. There would be no rehab for Luci. “Junkies O.D. every day,” she said.

“She was murdered.”

Quite a way to start out. The hero Kashe has his own problems. Kashe of Mero sat on his bed in his chamber of the family compound. His head pounded. When he opened his eyes he saw the day had progressed into late afternoon. The bright light made him wince. He recalled the past night’s celebration for the retirement of the family’s arms master who had been his mentor and friend. From the Tuten he had learned the skills of a warrior. Last night Kashe had finally defeated his mentor with weapons and a capacity for beer.

“Kashe.” His father’s voice stabbed like a dagger.

He groaned and sat up. The drum in his head banged. Leave me alone, he wanted to shout. The Nomarch of Mero’s anger toward his middle son was nothing new. What did he want now?

As second son Kashe had been marked for the priesthood. He had no desire to become a priest. He found satisfaction in his role as a warrior. Yet, duty called for obedience.

If any other temple had been chosen he might have agreed. He had no taste for this newly risen cadre of men seeking to force their god into the circle of goddesses and gods of the Two Lands. Aken Re had been unknown until the invaders had arrived. The army of those men had been defeated so why did their priests linger?

The beaded curtain jangled adding cacophonic notes to the beating in his head. “Answer me.” The nomarch entered and halted at the foot of Kashe’s bed. “Rise and present yourself in the central hall. We have guests. Your older brother has news of importance.”

Kashe groaned. He and Pian were a year apart in age and generations in philosophy. In embracing the new religion, His brother had seen an advantage for bringing his ambitions to fruition. He believed the priests would smooth his path to the pharaoh’s chair.

Kashe sat on the edge of the bed and considered his brother and his plans. Pian was slender and shorter than Kashe. He fit the picture of an ideal pharaoh in appearance but not in character. He was cruel and selfish. His sense of justice and honor were lacking. He had no love for Kashe. 

“Throwback” was the mildest of the names Pian used as needles to jab his younger brother. Kashe had strengths his brother lacked. Every match on the training field had ended with Kashe as the victor.

He rose. He couldn’t help that in stature and build he resembled the Nubian ancestors his father and older brother chose to forget in their desire for power. If Pian became pharaoh the Nomarch of Mero would become his son’s chief advisor.

“Are you coming?” his father asked.

If he said no who knew what would happen. Kashe stretched. “As soon as I wash and dress.” Though he would rather have bathed he would make do here. He glanced in the polished metal mirror. His warrior’s braid was neat enough. He poured water from a pitcher into a basin and washed. After donning a fresh kilt he fitted wrist and arm bands and selected a collar necklace.

As he left the family sleeping quarters he braced for the evening meal, the main one of the day. He entered the central hall and hid a desire to duck behind one of the pillars. On the dais his parents sat with a pair of priests. Their gold medallions glittered in the torch light. His older brother stood before the men.

As Kashe neared the platform he noticed the robes were embroidered with gold-rayed discs representing their god. The pair were opposites. One was rotund, smiling and fluttering his hands while speaking. The other was lean with a hawk-like nose and a somber expression. Kashe noticed his younger brother lingered in the shadows near the dais. If anything was to be learned Namose would know.

The nomarch gestured. He strode past his sisters who were engaged in a board game and gossip. 

When Pian’s voice took on a tone both servile and arrogant Kashe grimaced.

“My lords, Oris and Hebu, beloved of Aken Re, has the daughter been found? I so desire to look in her face and claim her as my chief wife. The honor you offer humbles me.”

The rotund priest’s smile broadened. “As yet we have not found her, but the signs point to where she is hidden. When the auspicious hour arrives we will claim her.” He turned from Pian to the nomarch. “You know the price.”

The nomarch pointed to Kashe. “My lords of Aken Re, this is my middle son. He is skilled with weapons and has a vast knowledge of strategy. He will enter your temple as a priest.”

So welcome to my world. Horu's Chosen will be released next month and is up for pre-order. Toth's Priest is waiting for edits so there will be more about my fascination with ancient Egypt

Trouble Comes in Twos by Roseanne Dowell

Everyone calls me Kate, but my full name is Katherine Wesley. I’ve recently returned to my home town of

Twinsburg, Ohio after five years of living in self-imposed exile. Okay, it wasn’t really exile. I left because my fiancé jilted me two days before our wedding. Can you believe he didn’t even have the guts to tell me in person? Oh no, he left me a note and took off to Las Vegas. 

I left town shortly after, because I couldn’t stand the looks of pity from everyone. I know I wasn’t the first, and I probably wouldn’t be the last, but that doesn’t help when it happens to you. So I fled. I built a new life for myself. I even opened a very successful flower shop in Clyde, Ohio.

But now I’m back and I opened my own florist shop here. Problem is, my ex is back too. Not that I care. I mean seriously, I’m over him.  The fact my heart beat a little faster the first time I ran into him didn’t mean a thing. Heck, it thumped twice as hard when I met my client’s brother. Not that I’m looking for a guy, believe me, I’m not.  I’m happy just the way I am. I don’t have to answer to anyone, and no one has to answer to me. Nope, I’m quite happy, thank you very much

.

Life was fine until I visited my Aunt Kate’s grave, well mostly fine. I mean my ex and Emma’s brother seemed to be vying for my attention. I never had that happen before and, quite honestly, I could live without it. Talk about uncomfortable. But the florist shop was doing well for just having opened. Emma’s wedding helped that. So there I was, minding my own business, going to the cemetery, and that’s when I found a body.

Well let me tell you, life turned upside down, backwards, forwards, and inside out. Between my ex, Emma’s brother and the body, let’s just say things got real complicated.

To make matters worse, the twin sister of the victim showed up in town. If you don’t think that made life real interesting, well think again.

You’ll have to read Trouble Comes in Twos to find out what happened. Released from Books We Love Publishing, it’s available at Amazon

You can find out more about my books at www.roseannedowell.com or check out my blog  at http://roseannedowellauthor.blogspot.com

Excerpt from Trouble Comes in Twos

A shadow passed over the doorway, and Kate realized she wasn’t alone.

Adam stood in the doorway, a cocky grin on his face. “Now that’s settled, how are you, Kate?”

Kate couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t he take a hint? “What do you want, Adam?” She didn’t care if she sounded angry. He deserved angry.

Adam came into the work room and stood in front of her. “You look great.”

Kate looked away. So did he, but darned if she’d tell him. He looked too damn good. What was the saying? Fool her once, shame on him, fool her twice, shame on her. Nope, she didn’t need him or anyone like him.

 “So what do you want? I gave you all the information on Emma. Shouldn’t you be out investigating?” She picked up a flower and set it in a vase. Her heart beat so hard, it surprised her that he didn’t hear it.

“Look, I know you’re still upset about the wedding, but give me a chance to make it up to you. How about dinner tonight?”

“I’m busy.” Still upset? The man had no idea. Like she’d pick up where they left off? Was he kidding.

“Tomorrow then?”

“I’m busy tomorrow, too. Look, Adam, just go, okay. I don’t want to have dinner with you. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.”

“Come on, babe, don’t be like that.” Adam moved a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t blame you for being angry. But damn, it’s been five years.” He ran his finger along her cheek. “The least you could do is give me a chance to explain. Not that I’m sure I could. I’m not sure, even now, why I took off. Cold feet, I guess.”

Kate trembled at his touch. A spark of something familiar tumbled in her stomach. She pushed his hand away. Try as she might, her anger shattered.

“How dare you walk in here like nothing happened? Like we’re going to pick up where we left off?” Kate spoke through clenched teeth. What she really wanted to do was lash out and hurt him the way he hurt her, but a customer might come in and screaming wasn’t going to help anyway.

Adam stared at her, a look of confusion in his dark eyes. He just didn’t get it. He really didn’t see anything wrong with what he did. Took the coward’s way out and left her to deal with canceling all the wedding plans. What a jerk. “Look, just go.” She turned back to her work and picked up a vase to fill her next order.

Adam ran his hand through his dark, wavy hair. Hair she used to love to run her fingers through. She could almost feel the soft, silkiness of even now.

“Give me a break, Kate. Let me make it up to you.”

Part of her wanted to give in, and part of her wanted to throw something at him. Stay strong, get rid of him. No way was she picking up where they left off.

The bell rang again, and before she had a chance to react, Mark stormed in. Kate’s stomach did a flip at the sight of him. What was wrong with her, reacting to these men this way? For five years men had no affect on her. Now in the course of an hour, the two of them managed to get under her skin, causing feelings deep within she hadn’t experienced in years. Feelings she didn’t want to feel.

Mark stared at them for a second. “I don’t know what the two of you have going, but why aren’t you out looking for my sister?”

Kate shuddered at the angry tone of Mark’s voice. “There’s nothing going on between us, Mr. Westfield. I just suggested the very same thing to Detective Shaffer,” she said just as angry. “Now if the two of you will continue this outside, I have work to do.”

“I’ll call you later, Kate.” Adam acted as if everything between them was settled. Par for the course. Wasn’t that always how it was? She got mad, spoke her mind, and that was it. Over and done with.

Nothing changed. Adam went on doing the same things he always did. Didn’t matter if it upset her. Poker every Friday night with his friends, no matter how angry she got. How they had managed to plan the wedding was beyond her.  Not that he did any of the planning. Adam didn’t even want to see the hall or listen to the band. No wonder he didn’t have any qualms about canceling the wedding. He didn’t do any of the work for it. Obviously, he wasn’t ready to get married. So why had he asked her? Asked her, heck, he had insisted. Even when she suggested they wait a year or so. He at least owed her an explanation. But did she really want to hear it?

A drink, a dance, or something else?

The Red Onion Saloon

This month I'm going to take you on another journey - one of the most entertaining I've experienced during my travels.

This took place in Alaska which is wild and wonderful, and one of our stops was Skagway. In the 2010 census its population was 920 people. During the height of the Klondike Gold Rush in 1898, however, it was the largest city in Alaska, with a population of around 8,000 and with an additional 1,000 miners passing through each week. 

Nowadays, of course, the numbers of visitors are much larger. 900,000 annually, mainly from cruise ships, and each and every one of them enjoying an existence far removed from the tough lives of the gold prospectors. The memories haven't gone away though. The cries of “gold in the Yukon” still echo from steep canyon walls, as do the sounds of bar room pianos and boomtown crowds. It's a place where the romance and excitement of yesteryear lingers around every street corner, every bend in the trail.

Like all historic towns, Skagway boasts buildings full of artefacts and tells stories of hardships endured. People had to be tough to survive the gold rush. The prospectors' journey included climbing the mountains over the White Pass above Skagway in often terrible weather. Then on across the Canadian border to build a barge on one of its lakes so that they could float down the Yukon River to the gold fields around Dawson City. Soon, overwhelmed by the number of prospectors, officials began to insist that everyone entering Canada had to bring their own supplies to ensure that they didn't starve during the winter. This placed a huge burden on the prospectors as well as the pack animals who had to climb the steep pass.

It wasn't all bad though because it also offered a lot of opportunity to the people who decided to stay behind. Pretty soon there were stores, saloons and offices lining the muddy streets of Skagway. The Red Onion Saloon, was one of these.

A portrait of one of the original girls

 In 1898 it was one of the classiest dance halls and saloons in town. Was that because it also provided something extra? Maybe. You see the upstairs was a bordello which comprised 10 small rooms, known as cribs. Each crib was very small but elaborately decorated by the women who used them. A weary miner could wander into the Red Onion Saloon for a bottle of liquid courage and a dance or two with a beautiful lady. Then, ready to order something a little more personal, he would choose his girl in a very unique way. Behind the bar were 10 dolls that represented the 10 girls upstairs. As soon as the customer chose a doll, the bartender would lay the doll on her back, indicating that that girl was 'busy'. Once the personal services were complete and the customer had returned to the bar, the doll sat upright again, waiting for her next customer.

So what, you say? Interesting, but that was life in the gold rush. Well yes it was, but this was different. The Red Onion Saloon, having gone through a long history of thriving success and then dwindling to nothing as bigger dance halls and casinos were built in Dawson, is now operating again. Not as a bordello I hasten to add, but as a saloon full of beautiful, laughing girls who all dress in the style of the madams of the gold rush era.

So nowadays, after years of being used variously as an army barracks, a laundry, a bakery, a union hall, a television station and even a gift shop, it is open for business again. This time, however, the girls are merely guides and historians when they lead a group of visitors up the stairs to look at the 10 small cribs. And in their revealing red and black dresses with a black top hat perched on their piled up hair, they add a touch of glamour to the simple business of buying a drink. So do the barmen and the musicians who also dress the part. Stepping inside The Red Onion Saloon and hearing the tinny sound of the piano and the strum of a banjo, both overlaid with the the buzz of voices and the clatter of glasses, it is possible to see a shadow of the history of the gold rush right in front of you.

Modern day 'Madams'

But why did I find it especially entertaining? Well that's because our particular 'Madam', a beautiful young lady with the pretty and unusual name of Tamar, was born and educated in England in a place not very far from where I grew up. So there I was, approximately 4,250 miles from home, being served beer and tortilla chips by an attractive girl dressed as a gold rush Madam even though her origins were very far removed from the history of Alaska.

 Why was she there? Well in the manner of a true Madam, she winked and told me it was because of a man! " Isn't it always," she said.

Of course, as a writer of romances I had to agree. However, in her case, I should also hasten to add that she married the man well before she started to work at the Red Onion saloon. She told us that she had been working there for 10 years and it was one of the best jobs in the world. Five months of hard work during the cruise ship season and then seven months of relaxation with friends and family, not just in Skagway, but in warmer places during the cold Alaskan winter.

She made our day as we watched her dispense jokes and witty repartee with every sign of enjoyment. She tucked dollar bills into her cleavage while she collected empty glasses, smiled, laughed, posed for photo after photo. Thanks to the history of the gold rush, I suspect than the Red Onion Saloon has given the beautiful Tamar far more than it ever gave to those poor souls who lived and worked there at the end of the nineteenth century.

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Sayings by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

Sayings by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

Be Careful What You Wish For is an old saying with an ominous warning to it and Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining is also an old saying but it has an upbeat tone to it. Both of them apply to my story.

Be Careful What You Wish For

For years women who had had breast cancer surgery were told not to use their arms for any strenuous activity for fear of causing lymphedema, a build up of fluid in the arm. Don McKenzie, a Canadian sports medicine specialist at the University of British Columbia, opposed this idea. In 1996, he formed a dragon boat team composed of  24 women with a history of breast cancer in Vancouver, B.C. They called themselves Abreast in a Boat. And they proved that strenuous exercise was good for their arms and for their overall health.
A few years later, they entered in the Vancouver dragon boat festival and I saw them on the television news. I had never heard of dragon boating before and I said to my husband. "That looks like fun. I'd like to try dragon boating sometime."
In January of 2001, I was doing a breast self examination and found a small lump. My annual mammogram at the Breast Centre in Edmonton was scheduled for February but I called the centre and told them my news. They booked me an appointment in two days. Although no one said the C word, after the questions, the mammogram, and the ultrasound, I was pretty sure it was cancer. Then I was told that I needed a biopsy and that it could be scheduled for the next week. However, they added "We have an opening in the next hour and we can do it today." I knew for sure it was cancer.
At my pre-op session a woman came in to tell me about a group of women living with cancer or who had had breast cancer that met every month for coffee and to offer support. I asked her if she knew of a breast cancer survivor dragon boat team in the city. She found the contact information for Breast Friends for me and two weeks after my surgery I joined the team. I wasn't allowed to get in the boat until three months after my last radiation treatment so I didn't get to actually paddle until 2002. Each summer we attended dragon boat festivals in Alberta and British Columbia.

When I moved to Vancouver Island in the fall of 2004, I joined Angels Abreast in Nanaimo. We went to festivals up and down the island and in Vancouver.

Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining

In 2006, an international breast cancer dragon boat festival was held in Vancouver to celebrate the ten year anniversary. Besides the Canadian teams, teams came from the United States, Australia, New Zealand, Poland, Italy, and Asia. It was great to walk through the paddler's village and meet fellow survivors from around the world.
In Sept. 2007, an international breast cancer festival was held in Caloundra, Queensland, Australia, and Angels Abreast went to that. What a wonderful time we had. The residents were friendly, the venue was excellent, and the hosts did a great job of organizing. The 100 teams of twenty-four paddlers, steersperson, and drummer paraded through the streets dressed in pink, and many people yelled "Canada" or honked their horns when they saw our Canadian flag hanging from our balconies. The festival lasted three days and again I met many special women. After the festival some of us toured around Queensland and New South Wales. Even with my fear of heights, I climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. From there we flew to Fiji for a week.
A year and a half ago my team received a notice that the next international festival was going to be held in Sarasota, Florida, October 24, 25, 26, 2014, and we decided to attend. The other members were going to fly down, tour around some of the sites and head home. I wanted more than that, so my husband, Mike, and I decided to do a three month tour of the U.S. Since I needed to be in Sarasota by October 22 to practice with the team, we picked Sept. 18 (later changed to Sept. 23) as our leaving date and Dec. 16 as our return date. I applied for and was given three months off work.
Mike had had back surgery on Dec. 17, 2013, but we were assured that he should be healed in time to go. However, that has not been the case. His back hasn't healed properly and he is in constant pain. It took a lot of thought and discussion whether he should accompany me because he tired so quickly. But we decided he would be in pain if he stayed home or if he came with me so he finally decided to come. We found a motorhome and are now bringing our four cats. (my daughter suggested a title for my next book: The Crazy Cat Lady On Tour)
Since my diagnosis I have met so many strong, caring, fun-loving women plus I have visited some wonderful places. I am looking forward to doing the same this year and many years to come, a silver lining to my cloud.

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Books of The Travelling Detective Series boxed set:
Illegally Dead
The Only Shadow In The House
Whistler's Murder