Of course I would like family and friends to come along and buy my book on the day, but even if they don’t, I just want them to come and share in the celebration that my story is out there to be read by those who care to. Reading tastes are very subjective and I am well aware that there are many people, even among those close to me, who won’t like my book. One of my own sisters couldn’t even get past the first chapter because it isn’t her style. She is keen on thrillers, blood, guts and gore and my novel is certainly not of that genre. I just hope that she and others who find that it ‘isn’t their thing’ will be able to at least say to their reading friends, “I know who wrote that,” and encourage others to give it a go.
Anyway, the countdown is on so continue to watch this space for more details as they emerge. The book will be available both electronically and as hardcopy, whatever your preference.
Meanwhile please enjoy an extract from chapter 42 of Mine to Avenge:
Spyridon went to his library to listen to music and to read. He turned off the video monitor for privacy and settled in for a relaxing morning. Remembering that he hadn’t yet eaten, he ordered the housekeeper to bring him some toast and coffee.
At about 11.00 a.m. he was disturbed by the intercom. Parker wished to speak to him.
‘Yes, Parker, what is it?’
‘Excuse me, sir. I need to organise some leave urgently. Something has come up with my family. Can you please meet me at the gatehouse to discuss it?’
‘Why can’t you come up to the house, Parker?’ Spyridon asked, a little irritated by the interruption.
‘I’m sorry, sir. My sister is on the phone. She’s quite upset and I can’t leave her just at the moment, but I’ll try to be finished on the phone before you get here. I just want to reassure her that there won’t be a problem organising some leave right now.’
Spyridon had never considered that his gatekeeper might have a family, as he lived on-site.
‘Alright, Parker, I can do that. I’ll meet you there shortly.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
Spyridon turned off the stereo and walked through the house, exiting by the front door. He strolled along the gravel driveway, admiring his gardens as he went.
As he approached the gatehouse, he saw the blue-capped Parker wave to acknowledge him. He arrived at the door of the booth, and Parker held it ajar, inviting him in. Spyridon had only been in the booth once before, not long after it was built, in order to see that it had been completed to his satisfaction. There was no need for him to come to this part of the gardens as Parker had it all under control. He also admitted to himself that he felt unsafe and exposed when so near to the gate and the street outside.
‘Thank you for coming down here, sir,’ Parker said, spreading out a calendar on the desk. He looked out into the street, first left then right. He turned back to face Spyridon and, in a sudden deft move, reached behind his employer, locking the booth door.