Sunday, 15 July 2018

The Unredeemed - audiobook

More good news on The Unredeemed. I've signed a contract with Hellbound for an audiobook release. Obviously, this is a new one for me so I'm extremely pleased about it. I don't know who will be involved; as soon as I do, I'll be posting more details.

And Die Laughing is still free. You've got until tomorrow night (US time) to bag a copy of the Kindle version. The paperback is under a fiver (as is Hometown for that matter), so fill your boots. And between you and me, the second draft of the new book I'm currently working is an expansion of one of the stories in Die Laughing. But I'm not saying which.

Have a good rest of the weekend, all.

Saturday, 14 July 2018

Die Laughing - free all weekend

To celebrate the publication of The Unredeemed, I've made Die Laughing free on Kindle all weekend. Yep, free. You can get it for nowt until Monday night.


UK Amazon

US Amazon


Friday, 13 July 2018

The Unredeemed - publication day

Today's the day, chums. The Unredeemed is published in ebook and paperback. Obviously, you can get a copy direct from Hellbound's site, but if you prefer the Amazon route, here are the links.

UK Amazon

US Amazon

Hope you like this one. If you'd like to let me know, absolutely do so here or on Twitter or even in the shape of a review. Also if you dig it, check out Dead Sun for more background to a certain character.

More to come about The Unredeemed soon including a bit of news I'm extremely happy about.

Thursday, 12 July 2018

The Unredeemed - a sneak peek

As The Unredeemed is published tomorrow, I thought it might be nice to share a snippet to give you an idea what to expect. So, here's a look at the opening chapter. And I know I (and just about every other writer in the world) have said it before, but if you do buy it, honest reviews are more than welcome; they're just about essential for a book to have any chance of selling. Ta muchly.


I could say this began back in the old days when I committed my first murder. I could say it began more than fifty years ago when I started spending my time in the park close to Azalea Drive. I could even say it began when I died. But I think saying any of that would be a lie.
This began when I met Hayley.


The woman entered the park at half past five that evening, exactly as I’d known she would. For the last three days, she’d approached from the entrance on Bedford Avenue at around the same time and jogged through the green in four complete circuits. Dennis and I watched her from a wide cluster of oak trees in the centre, sitting up there on the high branches to study her speed, her grace. She was no older than thirty, tall, thin and had the look of a woman who didn’t take much pleasure in exercise. She wore those dangling wires in her ears, the ones that connect to a device playing music. After watching her complete her jog that first night, I’d wondered about speaking through the wires in her ears, whispering right into her head.
That wasn’t my style, though. I’m not a fan of modern technology. Instead, the situation called for something a little more old-fashioned.
On the third night, a Wednesday, Dennis and I watched and waited until she drew closer before asking Dennis to keep an eye out. While he wasn’t particularly happy with my plan (a cautious fellow, Dennis), he agreed to keep watch.
The woman passed our trees on her second circuit and I swooped down, letting her see me from the corner of her eye.
She turned but all she made out was her long shadow, trailing off into the bushes and gravel that formed a curving trail around the pathways. There was no reason she should think anyone was in those bushes; if someone had been behind her, they couldn’t possibly have made it out of sight so quickly. She jogged on; I followed, keeping to the spiky leaves, slipping through them and ignoring their stupid mutterings that I should leave, that I wasn’t welcome there. What little intelligence living in the greenery and trees had never cared for me, and had spent much of the previous fifty plus years moaning on the wind for me to leave.
The woman and I went around the park for another moment, passing a group of teenage boys who shouted unpleasant comments to the woman, then level with a sleeping man who gripped a bottle of cider while spittle soaked into his matted beard, before we hit an empty section of path. It was perfect.
I shot from the bushes, streaked behind her and crashed into half a dozen weeping willows directly level with her.
She heard nothing, but did see the tremors in the long branches several feet above, despite the lack of wind. She came to a jerking halt, panting hard and staring at the nearest tree. By this time, I’d moved to float right behind her. Her thoughts sped in a blur of images: a bird hitting the tree trunk, a falling branch, conkers (which made no sense since it was late May and the willows were obviously the wrong type of tree), or an animal in the bushes.
For a second, her mind froze. I leaned in closer and caught a thought that wasn’t much more than a flashing image.
She wiped her mouth while perspiration on her forehead and neck cooled rapidly and her thinking kicked back into life. Snakes. Stupid idea. No snakes in the park. Even if there were, they’d be grass snakes. Small. Frightened of human noise. Stupid idea.
Interesting, I mused, although it wasn’t with much surprise. Homing in on someone’s weak spot has always been a strength of mine.
The woman took a final look in all directions and resumed jogging. Dennis had followed and waved at me from the willows, his little face pinched and strained.
Are we alone? I called to him and he nodded, still clearly not happy with my minor haunting. To be honest, I knew it was risky. I hadn’t remained on Earth for so long by causing trouble or giving myself away, but sometimes, old habits do indeed die hard.
I waved back to Dennis and followed the woman. She’d barely covered any distance before I brushed against her shin.
She let out a frightened shout and fell, tripping over her own feet. Hitting the ground hard, she rolled to the earthy flowerbeds and held her knees, panting and struggling not to weep. Blood ran in thin streams from cuts on both her knees, and her mouth trembled more in shock than pain. Her eyes rested on the spot I occupied on the other side of the path; she squinted and in the shadows cast by the trees and bushes, she saw the suggestion of my shape. Despite it being only for a moment, it was long enough. She gave a tiny squeak and one hand blocked her mouth as if wanting to keep any noise inside.
I remained still, letting my energy return. Gliding and floating took a fair bit of effort. Walking was easier but not quite as effective when it came to this sort of thing.
Enjoying yourself? Dennis asked and while the woman couldn’t hear his exact words, she caught something in the breeze, something she instinctively recognised as unpleasant – like a bad smell from miles away, blown in by a gust of wind. Still, her eyes didn’t move from the area I filled. She was sure something was there, sure of it but unable to see it.
As always, I replied and Dennis’s worry travelled through the trees.
Don’t get carried away, he warned.
The woman stood, still watching for me. Wincing she took her hand from her wounded knee; dirt and earth spread over the grazes, turning the white of her skin into a grubby red. She glanced down the pathway to the brighter area not overhung by the old branches. Her feelings were clear: she didn’t want to be here. Not right here on this section of path, but in the park at all. She wanted to be at home with the television on loud and the curtains closed against the approaching night.
“Snakes,” I said to her.
She froze. Her eyes were stuck to the flowerbeds opposite. I flapped at the greenery; it shook slightly, creating a whisper in the stillness.
She couldn’t hear my word as Dennis would have and that didn’t make a bit of difference. She sensed it and there may even have been a bit of her mind, some part she no longer needed to use, that knew what had spoken to her.
The breeze freshened abruptly which was superb timing for me. The fine hairs on her forearms rose; she hugged her arms across her breasts and limped a few steps away. As soon as her eyes were off me, I breathed to her ears.
Her focus flew back to the bushes across the path. She saw them shake, and saw the first snake slither from the earth. It didn’t matter that there was nothing there. She saw it.
  You can pre-order The Unredeemed in ebook and paperback over here - THE UNREDEEMED

Sunday, 8 July 2018

Writing in the same universe

While a fair bit of what I write is its own story with no connection to anything else, I do like to occasionally have a link, however small, between tales. Case in point, The Unredeemed shares more than a slight connection with Dead Sun and Hometown with setting and a side character. Not that you need to have read either book to enjoy my new one; the stories are stand alone. Think of them as taking place in the same world - and worlds are big, after all. Plenty of room for more than story to be told and to be occuring while you're reading a book.

With that setting, it's a fictional version of my hometown (you can see how long it took me to come up with that title) - a fairly standard city in England that, in all fairness, could be just about anywhere in the country. Geographically, Dalry is the same as my hometown which my friends had fun pointing out when they read Hometown, and ditto on the feel of the place. Probably why I've come back to Dalry a few times in my tales. And for what it's worth, Dalry has a lot of sides, some of which are darker than others. In some, the sun never shines.

Dalry is an old city. Men like Benjamin Harwood have called it home for a long time just as the group of friends in Hometown know it as their past and a certain someone from Dead Sun knows its history. If you want to come along with the ghosts from The Unredeemed, I hope you'll see something you know in its streets and in its secrets.


Sunday, 1 July 2018

The Unredeemed - published 13th July

It's all happening at my end. The Unredeemed will be published on 13th July in paperback and ebook. You can pre-order it now over at Hellbound's site. I had a lot of fun writing this one probably because Benjamin Harwood makes no apologies for being who he is. Or what he is. Obviously, more guff to come about this one over the next few weeks. For now...

Pre-order LINK

Four hundred years ago, Benjamin Harwood butchered whoever he saw fit to kill, knowing that sacrificing his murder victims to a demon would keep him safe from eternal punishment.
But now, their agreement has been torn in half and the demon is coming for Harwood’s soul, coming to set him to burn.

Preparing for war, Harwood gathers the worst of the worst, the monsters and murderers he calls friends.
With this group of damned killers, Harwood must return to the crimes of his past and seek help from his most recent prey: a teenage girl whose family he destroyed, a girl with more reason to loathe him than anyone in his life or death.
Only then he can try for a redemption that may be impossible or face a universe of suffering.

But Harwood doesn’t know there is a hole in the floor of the world. And something much worse than the dead is down there...

Thursday, 21 June 2018

The Mirror Of The Nameless - cover reveal

Presenting the cover to my upcoming novella The Mirror Of The Nameless which will be published by Kensington Gore on 1st September (links to follow). If you've been paying attention, you'll know why I'm extra chuffed with this one being published in print as well as ebook. And while I'm not at liberty to go into details just yet, I can say Mirror will contain a little something extra special. Lastly, the prequel novel, The Day Of The New Gods, will also be published by KG. So, if you like Mirror, you'll definitely like the prequel.

Anyway, enough talk. Cover time.

In a world controlled by three tempestuous gods ready to destroy all human life on a whim, Dave Anderson knows he should follow the herd and not make waves or he may end up sacrificed to the monsters from the darkest reaches of the universe.

All that goes up in smoke when he discovers his teenage daughter is risking her life in the resistance movement against the demonic tyrants.

Dave, an unlikely hero, joins forces with her boyfriend in a frantic hunt to save his beloved daughter before the authorities feed her to their dark-overlords.

Their sole hope of overthrowing them and bringing peace to this totalitarian society is finding a secret weapon which, legend says, is the only way to defeat the gods.

But unleashing the weapon may risk opening a doorway to something much, much worse.