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Book Extract: Agent Pangolin by AC Bradburn

I am pleased to be welcoming AC Bradburn to Novel Kicks. They are here with their novel, Agent Pangolin. 

Sunda is a pangolin on a mission. Her family has been taken by poachers, she’s been ripped away from her beloved Sumatran rainforest and now the beautiful nature reserve that she calls home in London is about to be destroyed by humans. But there’s no way she’s going to let that happen.

Sunda becomes an animal secret agent for the mysterious ‘Web of Light’ and discovers an ancient legend that could help save her home.

Can she solve the mystery of the shiny moon before it’s too late? With beautiful illustrations by Julia Vasileva, this is a magical story of courage, friendship and justice for the natural world.

 

AC Bradburn has shared an extract today. Enjoy. 

 

*****beginning of extract*****

 

THUD!

A ginormous paw bashed Sunda’s back. She was drenched with fear.

THUD!

And again, THUD!

She recited the pangolin mantra: curl up, hold firm, don’t relax for one second. That was the pangolin way – at the first sign of danger, roll into a protective ball and wait for the threat to pass. Wincing as the paw struck yet again, she kept her long tail firmly clasped around her head. Her tough, chestnut brown scales gave her the perfect suit of armour. Then the snuffling began – probing, teasing, searching for a way in, first with claws, then with teeth. She held her breath. Eventually a slobbery tongue wrapped around her scales and propelled her across the forest floor. She came to rest at the foot of a giant meranti tree, perched on one of its roots like a stranded soursop.

The tiger cub came at her again, lolloping over the crisp, dry leaves. It grunted, so close that Sunda could feel its steamy breath. A slimy globule of saliva oozed down over her scales and onto the ground. She hadn’t managed to get a proper look but it seemed like a young one, hopefully too small to break her defences. But the cub’s parents couldn’t be far away and the thought of a fully-grown Sumatran tiger sent a fresh burst of terror through her scales.

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A Moment with… Colin Garrow

I am pleased to be welcoming Colin Garrow to Novel Kicks. He’s here with the blog tour for his novel, Blood on the Tyne: Red Snow – book 3 in the Rosie Robson series.

A dead body. A hoard of forged banknotes. A gangster out for blood.

Newcastle, December 1955. Returning home after a weekend away, singer and amateur sleuth Rosie Robson discovers a man lying on a baggage trolley with his throat cut. After the police get involved, an attack on Rosie and her boss prompts Inspector Vic Walton to find a safe house for the pair. But the bad guys seem to be one step ahead of them and Rosie is forced to track down a possible witness to the murder in a bid to learn the truth. Can the canny crooner solve the mystery before a Newcastle gang boss catches up with her? 

Set on Tyneside, Blood on the Tyne: Red Snow is book #3 in the Rosie Robson Murder Mysteries series.

*****

Without further ado, it’s over to Colin who is chatting about creating a book series. 

I assume that other authors, like me, create a series of books (ie a sequence featuring the same characters or setting/location) so the expectation that whatever readers loved about the first book will prompt them to read the others. But do we do it simply to have the same group of characters ready and waiting, therefore making the writing of additional books (in theory, at least) a bit easier? Or might it be to cash in on something that proves popular with readers? In my case, I have to be interested in what happens to my characters to keep me interested. Once I begin to lose that interest, there’s no point continuing.

With my Blood on the Tyne series, I originally started out with the idea of a character who would be a sort of British version of some of those American classics, like Chandler’s Phillip Marlowe, Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer and Ross Macdonald’s Lew Archer. Aside from the fact that these are all male characters written by male authors, I wanted to write something that had that same sense of noir (dark themes and equally dark subject matter).

But when I tried to come up with a kind of English private eye with Chandleresque witticisms and classic one-liners, it just didn’t feel right. Also, I already had Terry Bell (from the Terry Bell Mysteries series) who kind of fitted that role, albeit in a more laidback and naïve way.

Ideally, what I wanted had to make sense without seeming contrived, so instead of a male PI, I came up with an amateur detective but made her female. Making Rosie Robson an unwilling investigator, who just happens to be in the wrong place when the poop hits the ceiling fan, I came up with a woman who works as a nightclub singer and is forced to come back to her hometown of Newcastle for her mother’s funeral. In doing so, she gets embroiled in a murder hunt and meets a potential partner in the shape of Detective Inspector Vic Walton.

I also wanted her to be strong as well as a bit vulnerable, so popped her in the mid-1950s so she’d have to deal with the kind of sexist and misogynistic attitudes that were commonplace at the time, as well as countering ideas about women’s roles in the home and workplace.

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Novel Kicks Book Club: The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

Hello 2023. 

Is it just me or did December come and go very quickly?

I know it’s January but it’s also a new year and a further 12 months of discovering new books or maybe visiting one you’ve not read in a while.

This month’s book club title is by an author who I absolutely adore. The novel is The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman.

This book has been on my TBR list for so long and I am looking forward to reading it and hopefully discussing it with you in the comments. Anyone can take part, whether you’ve read it or plan to read this month and the best part… it’s all online.

I’ve posted a question below to get the discussion going.

 

Here’s a little about the book: 

This is what he remembers, as he sits by the ocean at the end of the lane:

A dead man on the back seat of the car, and warm milk at the farmhouse.
An ancient little girl, and an old woman who saw the moon being made.
A beautiful housekeeper with a monstrous smile.

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Book Review: Local Girl Missing by J.A. Baker

I am so pleased to be welcoming J.A. Baker to Novel Kicks and the blog tour for her novel, Local Girl Missing

Missing without trace…

When local woman Deborah goes missing, her colleagues Adrian, Yvonne and Merriel are all left in shock. Gossip around the office begins to swirl – what could have happened to Deborah? Is she dead or alive? And who could be responsible for her disappearance?

Everyone is terrified that they could be next…except the one person who has all the answers. The last person people expect.

Because Deborah is being held captive by a monster, a psychopath. But not a stranger… it’s someone she knows all too well…

*****

Deborah is being held against her will by a monster. However, this monster isn’t a stranger, it’s someone she knows well.

Whilst her work colleagues are reeling from her disappearance, someone knows the truth.

This was the first novel I’d read by this author. The premise of this book really caught my attention so I was happy to be invited onto the blog tour for Local Girl Missing.

Seriously, I know this term is banded about a lot but this book had me hooked from page one. I had to know more. I needed to know what becomes of these characters so one more page became one more chapter and before I knew it, I’d read it in one sitting.

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Book Extract: The Contraband Killings by Lucienne Boyce

I am pleased to be welcoming Lucienne Boyce to Novel Kicks. She’s here with the blog tour for The Contraband Killings: A Dan Foster Mystery.

Principal Officer Dan Foster of the Bow Street Runners is sent to collect smuggler Watcyn Jones from Beaumaris Gaol on Anglesey, and bring him back to London for trial at the Old Bailey. As if having to travel to the wilds of North Wales isn’t bad enough, Dan is saddled with an inexperienced constable as his interpreter and assistant. At least it’s a routine assignment and shouldn’t take more than a few days.

But when the prison escort is ambushed and Watcyn Jones escapes, a straightforward transfer turns into a desperate manhunt. And as Jones’s enemies start to die, the chase becomes more urgent than ever. Dan’s search for the killer brings him up against a ruthless smuggling gang – and his chances of getting off the island alive begin to look far from promising.

 

Lucienne has shared an extract with us today. Enjoy. 

 

*****beginning of extract*****

 

Between 1793 and 1815 Britain was at war with revolutionary France. Faced with the very real threat of invasion as the French amassed ships and troops at key Channel ports, the government called on men to join local militias such as the Loyal Anglesea Volunteers. But the government’s enemies were not only pressing on them from the outside: there was also the enemy within, in the form of radical societies set up to campaign for political reform. Many of these groups supported the French and some were even prepared to take up arms with the revolutionary forces when they landed on British shores.

Anyone who voiced radical opinions was an object of suspicion, especially if they were spotted near military or naval installations. So when Dan Foster and his assistant, constable Goronwy Evans, hear Sampson Kirby a young English tourist, spouting anti-monarchical sentiments, and he is later seen apparently signalling to ships out at sea, they begin to wonder what he’s up to. One night they follow Kirby to the Parys Mountain copper mine, which supplies the Navy with copper sheaths to protect its ships’ hulls from the destructive attacks of marine worms and barnacles.

They followed Kirby to the outskirts of the town, where he paused and adjusted his load before setting off into the dusk. Ahead of them rose the outline of Parys Mountain. The barren landscape on either side of the dusty, rutted track was indistinct, no more than vague shapes in the darkness. No lights shone in the buildings at the top of the mountain, and the open cast was a vast, silent pit of darkness. Sulphurous smoke still belched from the kilns, but no men hammered and no rock tumbled. The wind hissed over the lifeless ground, the ropes on the windlasses creaked, and water gurgled.

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