And Then He Was Gone, Joan Hall Hovey's latest suspense

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Where is Adam?

Julie Raynes' husband has been missing for six months. Devastated and confused, she refuses to believe that he would leave her voluntarily, though her best friend thinks differently. However, her Aunt Alice, a psychic, tells her Adam has been murdered, and when she reveals how she knows this, any hope that Adam is still alive, dissipates.

The police are also beginning to believe that Adam Raynes was murdered. And Julie is their prime suspect. Her life in ruins, Julie vows to hunt down whoever is responsible for Adam's murder and make them pay for their crime.

In the meantime, David Gray, a young man who was pulled from a lake by a fisherman when he was 9 years old, wakens from a coma after nearly two decades. Unknown to Julie, Adam and David share a dark connection, a darkness that threatens to devour both of them, in a terrifying race with death.

 Reviews for Joan Hall Hovey's Suspense novels

The Deepest Dark~

"...Joan Hall Hovey knows suspense. She keeps it simmering in every scene she writes and knows just the right moments to turn up the heat and bring it all to a boil. ......" James Hankins, author of BROTHERS AND BONES and SHADY CROSS

 

Night Corridor

"...The mystery and suspense in this novel is outstanding, truly top notch, in the vein of Mary Higgins Clark, but—dare I say—even better? - In the Library

 

Chill Waters

"…a chilling hold-your-breath-as you-turn-the-pages novel of such depth and credibility, it's hard to remember that it's fiction and won't be headlined in the daily news…" —Evelyn Gale, All About Murder Reviews.

Nowhere to Hide

"…another winner. I highly recommend it to any lover of suspense, mystery, romance, or thriller. You'll not only race through this book, but clamor for more works by this talented and polished author. Aaron Paul Lazar, author of Healey's Cave -Midwest Book Reviews 

Check out all of Joan's Books on her Books We Love author page.

http://bookswelove.net/authors/hovey-joan-hall/

Working with Emotions

As I lay in bed this morning, thinking about this blog post, a commercial came to mind. West Jet Airline is known for their emotional ads and this one is fantastic. 

A little girl and her family are checking in for a flight. Using both hands, she is gripping a plastic, transparent container. Inside, we are able to see her tiny pet turtle. Yes, a pet turtle. A real live turtle. It’s not exactly a service animal that can board and remain with the owner. 

Hmmm. 

It’s a unique production. The marketing team behind West Jet used facial expressions with internal thoughts to relay their message. 

The father; what will they do? 

The mother; they can’t hurt it / flush it

And two employees; oh, dear. How are we going to handle this unique situation without breaking that little girl’s heart?

The little girl doesn't have a voice, but she has facial expressions. See my turtle. Don’t make me leave him behind. 

The camera zooms in on the turtle. The little guy looked directly at the viewers, pleading with the airline personnel in it’s own special way, using it’s human voice.

The entire commercial is brilliant.

Near the end, one employee finds her real voice and speaks. Problem solved.

I give the marketing team at West Jet full marks and high praise.

Authors use emotion when writing. We write words that evoke fear, laughter, make a person think, or simply warm a person’s heart. Through the gift of words, we develop our characters, making them three dimensional. 

We describe the scenes, so the reader can visualize the picture in the author’s mind.  

Technology has given us audio books. These allow the visually impaired to listen to a story without inconveniencing anyone else. Someday, I’m hoping I can afford to have my books released in audio. 

I’m not visually impaired, but I love inserting my ear plugs, closing my eyes and listening to a story while my husband listens to his music. Good quality time with my guy. Don’t you agree.

I’d like to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas, from my family to yours.

Personally, I wish for world peace, patience and love. It’s a crazy world out there. 

Take a moment, breath deeply, and relax. Your body and mind will thank you. Fingers are crossed for the New Year.

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The Natasha Saga

Empowerment shatters traditions and lives. Greed and pride have devastating consequences. Sacrifices must be made. Written on multiple levels, the saga deals with hope, relationships, and giving, set against a background of conflicting values.
Through a series of dreams, modern day couple Keeghan and William follow the triumphs and tragedies of multiple generations of the Donovan family. A chance encounter changes Natasha’s life, forever. In her diary, Natasha writes of her dream, and her hope to escape a horrid dictated future.
Will Natasha's legacy survive an uncertain future?

Christmas by June Gadsby

Visit June's BWL Author page for links to her books

December is a month of mixed emotions for me. I love Christmas with a passion that comes from my early childhood when the family lived together in an old miner’s cottage overlooking the River Tyne in the north-east of England. There was my grandfather, John Peel Richardson, my grandmother, Polly, my aunt Ruby [and sometimes her wandering husband, Fred], my mother, Edith, and me. My parents split up when I was only ten months old after a short and disastrous marriage.  With Christmas approaching, my aunt and I used to get busy making crepe paper ceiling decorations and strings of coloured metallic sweet-paper beads to drape around the Christmas tree. A real tree in those days, so big it reached the ceiling and filled our tiny house with the smell of fresh pine.

Christmas Day was the most exciting day of my young life with the old dining table groaning under the weight of the presents – most of them for me. And yet, every Christmas there was one big disappointment. Apart from the books that I adored, and the festive food we devoured, I would have given up everything else for a bed of my own instead of the small double bed I had to share with my mother and my grandmother where I had to perch on the hump in the middle and suffered from my grandmother’s bony knees and elbows and her sharp demands that I should “keep still”.  On the other side of me was my mother’s broad rump sticking out at such an angle that being in bed was not the happiest of places for me.

The things I really looked forward to on Christmas morning - the smell of my grandmother’s cooking, the turkey in the oven, the vegetables on the hob and a great pan of hot ginger wine and sausage rolls prepared specially for the band of the Salvation Army playing Christmas Carols in the snowy street outside. The band, many of whom were close relatives of ours, would come inside and warm themselves; so many laughing, happy people crammed into our living room, shaking off snow from their boots and warming themselves in front of the open coal fire. It’s no wonder I have always been inspired to include Christmas in some of my books.

Alas, the Happy Christmas’s of my childhood did not stretch into my adult years, but I still have the good time memories to enjoy. Between then and now there is quite a saga to tell and I plan to write it one day, warts and all. In the meantime, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy and Peaceful New Year.