I’ve done it! At last, Book 3 of the Beaufort’s Landing Murder Mystery series 1st draft is done. My god, it was like pulling teeth. I honestly felt like I would never finish it. I don’t understand why.
I know you’ve seen the cover before, but thought that after all this time you would have forgotten.
Have you ever had trouble getting the words on paper like that. It wasn’t that I didn’t know where the story was going or how it would resolve. It was more a problem putting one word after the other. Hell, one letter after the other. I had heard (somewhere) that the third of a series was difficult. Let me put my name to the list of complainers…It was a bitch!
Anyhow, now I have to rewrite, and rewrite, and use my beta reader, then edit, and re-edit. I’m hoping to have it ready for release in January. Order your copies now. Actually, I don’t have pre-order set up on Amazon, so you can’t do that. Why? Well, because I don’t know how.
I am hoping to have a book launch as soon as I get some hard copies. I’ll be sure to let you know when.
In the meantime, Books make great Christmas gifts so go to this link. HERE, Go on, you know you want to, and I certainly want you to. Just think, you’ll be giving 2 presents at once— one for the receiver and one for the author, who thanks you very much.
Here is a short excerpt to whet your appetite:-
You little snot, Xelma thought. Instead of voicing her distain at his close-mindedness, she extended her hand. ‘Xelma.’
‘No one. Just Xelma, X.e.l.m.a…and you are?’
The young man looked at her hand held out in greeting, and with just the slightest of pauses took her fingers in his flaccid, seemingly boneless hand for a brief moment. It was enough. Xelma didn’t like the exchange, and had to stop herself from rubbing his touch off onto her sarong.
‘Aw, don’t be like that,’ Glenda chided him. ‘She gives most of her earnings to local charities. That’s what Geoff’s doing, Xelma. Cyclin’ for charity. He’s riding from Brisbane to the top end to raise money for…what was it again?’
‘ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease.’
‘Never heard of it,’ Glenda responded. ‘His wife died of it just recently, poor soul.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Xelma said. ‘Geoff.’
With an impatient shake of her head, Xelma brought herself back to the moment. Her eyes took in the covered swag laid out next to an open fire pit. The ash was dead grey. Everything looked undisturbed and there was no evidence of a struggle. She got no sense of him being dead, but there was something in the air under that tree that made her uncomfortable, not in a dangerous way rather in a strange, foggy way.
‘I don’t feel his presence at all,’ she reported. ‘It’s as though he just walked away and left it, leaving nothing behind.’
‘Nothing? Yer daft creature, he’s left everything.’ Glenda sighed. ‘S’pose I’ll have to ring that new cop now. Damn it. He’s a grumpy bugger, not social like Niall useta be.’
Well that is all for now, I’ll try to do something useful before the next blog.
How is your writing going? Come on you can do it!