Saturday 22 October 2022

My 1980s

I’ve always maintained the 80s was one of the busiest decades of my life, chock-a-bloc full of major events every two years. There are some highlights:

1982 – Graduated from what is now Coventry University with a degree in Electrical and Electronic Engineering – the first local female to do so. Although it was a hardware degree, my first job writing telecoms software showed me how much more I preferred this, and I spent a total of 23 years working for GEC Telecoms, which eventually became Marconi.

1984 – Having returned to my childhood town, Warwick, the terraced house I bought last year for £21K, went up for sale. It sold quickly for 22K, but the real kicker was six months later, the identical house next door sold for 65k. Bummer!

1986 – A magical year when my man and I travelled to Crete in May where he proposed. Four months later, we got married and honeymooned in Corfu. Something about a Greek island …

1988 – I’ll never forget 23/7/88, sending my hubby in to work the Saturday morning overtime at 8am, then spending most of the morning howling like a dog as the contractions grew stronger. By 11am, I’d had enough and called him back. We got to the hospital with minutes to spare as I was 10cm dilated, and out firstborn, Chris, popped out half an hour later at 12:30 on his due date. Utterly charmed, and he definitely lived up to the adage “Saturday’s child works hard for a living.”

1989 – In theory, the “every 2 years” thing should have meant 1990, but Joanna didn’t quite go the distance, popping out a month early on November 30th. As I remember, she took her time, waiting while Mike Baldwin did the dirty on Deidre Barlow to make her grand appearance. Being born on a Thursday (and being a Sagi) gave a bit of a clue to her wanderlust – she spent several years in France and has moved four times since returning to the UK.

These are some of my iconic memories of the 80s - what are yours? I'd love to hear what this era of big shoulderpads, even bigger hair and legwarmers meant to you.

Thursday 28 January 2021

Old Favourites

Sometimes, in the pursuit of the next new shiny thing, the back catalogue kinda sits on the shelf gathering dust. So here's a big-up for some of the books which have never had their full share of the spotlight.

First off is Death Wishes - a semi-autobiographical story about a maths teacher who becomes a writer!!! I know someone exactly like that.

Inspired by Nick Cage in City of Angels, Brad Pitt in Meet Joe Black and Alan Rickman in - well, anything, this quirky tale inspired one reader to give this praise: "Her humor sparkles, her passion sizzles and her image of the bureaucracy of Heaven is truly unique (and hilarious)."
A romantic fantasy featuring a hot angel and Stonehenge. What’s not to like?

You can find out more here.

The next three are all the stories for Jukebox Musicals - think "We will Rock You," "Rock of Ages" and "Mamma Mia." Instead of Queen/Abba, the songs are from Journey and City Boy (remember 5705?)
They have an 80s/90s feel, full of engaging (British) characters and oodles of FUN!

Warning: The storylines are proper implausible because they are based on song lyrics. To get the best out of them, you have to suspend disbelief completely (just leave it at the door - you can pick it up on the way out).

Being novellas, they are ideal for a train/plane journey, and you can find out more (including the full track listings) here.

We start with Don't Stop Believing by the phenomenon that is Journey.

Here's the elevator pitch:
A failing marriage. A union separated by distance. An accidental encounter. Can the Edinburgh Fringe Festival work its magic?

In this rock-music-inspired tale, three love stories intertwine amid the riot of colour and noise of Scotland's premier festical of the arts. Challenging situations and horrible histories force each player to take stock of their lives and discover what is truly important.

Next is Young Men Gone West by the vastly underrated City Boy.

And the elevator pitch:
A naive British lad. A sultry math teacher. An unexpected trip to Vegas.
What happens in Vegas ... you know the rest.

This outrageous, sleazy story is based on a Jukebox musical featuring 18 of City Boy’s wickedly quirky songs (including some of the naughtiest). It’s not for the fainthearted – the inside of an 18-yr-old boy’s head and sweet, clean read do not good bedfellows make.

And finally, The Day the Earth Caught Fire, another City Boy beaut from the 80s. Although this has only gathered dust for seven months.

Back on that elevator:
A spoilt millionaire actress. A hunky Scottish mechanic.
A relationship heading for disaster - all reported in the New York Times.

This distinctly weird tale has all the quirky humour of other jukebox musicals. Part romance, part disaster movie and part psychological thriller, it is glued together with great characters, twists, turns and an over the top HEA ending.

And for those of you not exactly used to lengthy absences, it's all been about Jacky's books for the past few months. And you must be used to me hibernating at winter ...

Tuesday 12 May 2020

Missed Opportunity

So, over in Jackyland, it's been pedal-to-the-metal, all-systems go for the beginning of this year.
I only popped out of my writing cave for a moment or two, and will try and give a round up soon.
But while getting this books page up-to-date, I spotted I'd never even posted about a spur-of-the-minute release. This one was completed early last year, but then the brown stuff hit the whirling blades and all bets were cancelled. I think there's a few 80s cliches feeling a bit miffed they didn't make the cut - yet!

Anyway, here's the one that got away - another Juke Box Musical stuffed with 15 awesome City Boy songs. Here's the blurb:
A spoilt millionaire actress. A hunky Scottish mechanic. A relationship heading for disaster.
On paper, Robin McIntyre has it all - a movie-star wife, a flashy New York apartment and every boy's toy he could ever want. Sitting in the private movie theater, with a very English butler serving caviar and champagne, he wonders exactly what this Glaswegian grease-monkey has done to deserve the life from hell.

Anamarina Storr knows she's acting like a pampered diva but gosh-darn it, she's earned the right. As she pees off yet another hapless assistant, she wonders if she should have listened to her husband's advice about forsaking the increasingly shady leading-lady roles for character parts.

What neither of them realize is that their whole worlds are about to catch fire, courtesy of a sassy biker chic and a sociopathic British spy.

Described as "part romance, part disaster movie and part psychological thriller," it is glued together with great characters, twists, turns and an over the top HEA ending. You can buy The Day the Earth Caught Fire for only 99p/99c.

Friday 20 March 2020

Which one gets your vote?

Total Jeopardy Book Trailers

Playing with Animoto eats up whole days, but I'm pretty pleased with the results.

Can't decide between them - both the styling and the music.

Which of these do you prefer?
Please leave a comment and, if you do, please tell me why it works for you.

For some reason, you may have to press the button twice before it plays.

For a little while longer,
you can get these 15 steamy,
saucy, short stories for only

Click to read Lexie's Awakening
for free and see if this is for you.

And if you enjoy them,
I'd really appreciate a
comment on Amazon

Thursday 19 March 2020

We can all learn from this

The very last thing I wanna do is spend more than a nano-second of my time considering what is going on in the wide world, but this blooming Coronavirus is proper encroaching. I mean what is it with the loo-rolls, people? What are they using them for?

So, my lovely hubby spotted an article written by Richard Littlejohn focussing on a chap who qualified as a doctor back in 1953. The gist of what this chap is saying is that back then, CV19 wouldn't have warranted more than a brief line in a medical journal.
According to Dr George Birdwell: "Most cases would have been too mild to attract attention in this season of coughs and sneezes. There would have been no alarm or counter-measures. International trade and travel would have carried on as usual. World stock markets would not have collapsed. And governments would not have needed to get involved."

How little does it take to reduce us to a frightened, selfish, inconsiderate mob? Stock-piling pasta, paracetamol and long-life milk. One too many apocalypse series on Netflix, maybe?

Oh for some common sense and a few grown-ups in government. A bit of perspective, please.

Thursday 12 March 2020

Talk about a sabbatical ...

Now that's what I call a leave of absence. Twenty months is a heck of a time between posts, but it's probably not gonna be the worst. After this one, I will not be releasing anything new as Ro Green.
Say What???
Is this goodbye?
Hopefully more of an Au Revoir. But quite a long one.
My alter-ego, Jacky Gray will be driving the cart (or even car) for at least three years while she releases three brand new series in the sweet-clean, adventure-laden, fun-packed side of the business.
I'll probably post the odd thing here just so they don't kick me out for woeful neglect.

But before I go ...

Telling Lexie's naughty story has been some of the best fun I've ever had as a writer. She's the closest of all my characters to me - irreverent, subversive and utterly fearless. And yes, massive parts of her story are autobiographical, although I would never admit which bits, even with both arms twisted up my back. The original nine stories (featuring different couples) were woven with six new ones which attempted to glue them all together into the semblence of cohesion.
However, for the boxset, it made much more sense to keep the main thread going and have all the sub-plots postponed till Lexie had told her tale. I've put links in so people can choose to read at the point they're mentioned, or leave them till the end. Crossing my fingers this will work for most readers.

This is your chance to get all 15 short-ish stories (a massive 610 pages) for a miniscule 99cents/pence.
Here’s the skinny for Total Jeopardy.
Sex in the City meets Big Bang Theory with a dash of Desperate Housewives.
Or: Hot, Hilarious and Hair-raising Hanky-Panky with Benny-Hill humour.

Sorry to take over, Ms Green, but it is my story.
Hello, Dear Readers, Lexie here.
Some very dear friends and I have clubbed together to bring you some of our darkest desires, wayward wishes and hottest imaginings. All presented in bite-sized pieces just ripe for that last quick read before you go to sleep. Just don’t blame me for the voracious visions enchanting your dreams.

If you like the idea of Sexy Lexie’s naughty, steamy adventure that touches on Domination with a nod to Reverse Harem, and don't want to wait until the 22nd, pick up a free copy: Sexy Lexie’s Jeopardy. Here's the blurb:

This collection of naughty teasers are hot and whimsical with addictive twists as Lexie works her way through several hunks in search of her soulmate. The final enemies-to-lovers story flirts around the edges of suspense and saucy fant-asy, heading towards a cheeky HEA.

Wednesday 18 July 2018

Fancy some sweet clean romance?

With bags of action and humour. After spending the first half of the year being all about the raunchy side, I'm dropping the prices on several other books for a wee while.
Check out the schedule:

July17th-18th Triple Jeopardy is FREE
July17th-18th More Jeopardy $0.99/£0.99 On a Countdown deal till 24th
July19th-20th DSB Free
July20th-23rd Death Wishes $0.99/£0.99 On a Countdown deal till 27th
July20th-23rd Young Men Gone West $0.99/£0.99 On a Countdown deal till 27th

So two sweet/cleans                           and                three naughty teasers

Tuesday 29 May 2018

The Final Jeopardy Installment

Phew! Not sure I'll be doing that again in a hurry. Releasing three books in three months was a tall order, and has left me a tad drained. Now the Welsh caravan is up and running, I'm gonna be taking a wee break.
Meanwhile, you have three days to get this one (and all the others) at the bargain price of 99c/99p. They will go up to full price on 2nd June.

Here's the blurb:
   Imagine if Sex in the City and Big Bang Theory spawned a lovechild back in 80s England, brought up by those Desperate Housewives. Doesn't bear thinking about, really. Seven whacky shorts stuffed full of steamy heat, nutty adventure and a helping of geeky chic.
   Mandy, Lucy and Karen take a turn at the mic, as do Mark, Ben and Rick. But Lexie is the star turn, piling on the pressure as she leads her men on a merry dance through bedrooms, motel rooms and boardrooms in her pursuit of pleasure - and the right man to give it to her.

Click on the links below to check them out - the thread running through the three volumes means they are better read in order for the best reader experience.

      Book 1: Triple Jeopardy            Book 2: More Jeopardy              Book 3: Final Jeopardy

Friday 27 April 2018

Getting Sassy with Classy Cassie

Sorry, these by-lines just get worse.
But it that kind of silliness appeals, you're in for a treat.
For less than a pound/dollar/euro, you can indulge in a unique bit of "mucky British smut." Five short stories full of cheeky sauciness, featuring the decidedly dodgy adventures of Sexy Lexie and a couple of her friends: Picky Vicky and Sassy Cassie.
Click to get your copy of More Jeopardy, but don't say I didn't warn you.

Don't take my word for it - here's what some of my lovely beta-readers are saying:

Dramatic, swoon-worthy romance – KC, Amazon Reader

Kent is my all-time favorite fictional boyfriend! Lord is he hot and sweet and romantic! And did I say hot? What happened with Cassie was so, so hot to me, when she gave him permission *swoon* that was some amazing reading! Mark and Lexie's story is a great addition to what happened in Triple Jeopardy, each of these stories add just a little more to Lexie's dramatic yet realistic universe.

Got my blood flowing!
– KB, Amazon Reader

I really like this series - I dream of Lexie!! I enjoyed meeting new characters and really felt bad for Vicky, although I saw it coming. The Domination part got my blood flowing, but I was happy to see that the action stopped when Cassie said NO. I like happy endings. My life is so busy that it is nice to read a short story and see the happy ending fairly quickly.

Dreaming, scheming & dodgy steaming – FJ, Amazon Reader

Sexy Lexie is back along with old & new friends. It conjured a song title from one of our favorite artists: “You can Look (But you can't touch)" - Springsteen. At least not without permission!

Truly a fantastic read! – Amazon Reader

Great premise: intriguing women in troublesome situations I love this author, she writes with sass and a fantastic British voice. I don't always enjoy short stories, I usually like my books to be more meaty, but the blurb sold me. I'm glad it did!

And here's some kudos from the professionals:

Unique, cute and sexyCarter Editing Services

Sexy Lexie is back and these stories are just as great as the first. Ms. Green is on a roll when it comes to creating sexy, hot tension between characters. And bonus! This time we get some romance and love stories with it. I LOVE the personality of Ms Green’s writing. Giving life to everything in the universe is a unique ability that not everyone can pull off and she does it perfectly.

Penetratingly Absorbing – Book Viral

Green has the uncanny ability to make readers care for her characters, delivering plots and narratives that vibrate with an impending sense of danger. The overarching theme makes her prose quite dark, but she always manages to inject a timely element of humour. There’s a powerful element of social commentary that’s expressed not in words, but in emotions that will leave many of her readers deep in thought.

Wednesday 4 April 2018

Hanky Panky with Sexy Lexie

A couple more days left @ the bargain 99c/99p, then it's up to full price.
Click link for your copy of
Triple Jeopardy.
Thought I'd share the saucy advert I created for facebook. "Utter filth! I loved it darling." - as Craig would say.

Here's the short blurb:

A tight red skirt. A smutty remark. A nice girl’s undoing
Lexie thought engineers were pretty chaste - they certainly never chased her. Until Stark’s sleazy attention well and truly pressed her buttons.
Three dark tales featuring girls in trouble in the late 80’s. Not strictly romance, they flirt around the edges of suspense and saucy fantasy. These compelling teasers are hot and whimsical with addictive twists.

P.S. Just in case you think you've already read Triple Jeopardy by Ro Green, these are three totally different stories, as you can tell from the descriptions:

Lexie's Awakening: Lexie's breakup with her boyfriend puts her back on the market; a natural target for her fellow engineers, who'd previously treated her like cut glass. The office Christmas party dress code says wear red, but her tight skirt attracts a powerful response from an unexpected source, leading to a whole new adventure.

No Gentleman: Ten tipsy executives. One naïve student. A foregone conclusion?
When Sandy took the waitressing job in an isolated country mansion, she never imagined the wealthy businessmen wanted more than serving food and drink. Until she saw the uniform.

The Dark Knights: A lonely road. A flat tyre. A girl's worst nightmare
Lexie's exploration of her secret desires leads to unexpected adventures as she seeks to understand and fulfil her dark yearnings.

Warning: Although generally lighthearted, these steamy, office-based shorts with a twist in the tail are not for the faint of heart. Or under-18s. Or people who don't like their heroines in too much trouble.

***For mature audiences only***

Wednesday 28 March 2018

Kudos, already?

I'm just showing off now. My fabulous street team have been sending in some of their thoughts about the new improved Triple Jeopardy. Not to be confused with an earlier book of the same name, this is three brand new saucy short stories, featuring a leonine (that's just the hair) ingénue, Lexie, who seems to fall into more than her fair share of saucy adventures. Here's some wonderful comments:

Kudos for Triple Jeopardy by Ro Green

Whimsical, hot stories with addictive twists
Short stories are a hard art form, and I admire it very much when someone does it masterfully; it is like hearing a beautiful piece of music played. Each of these short stories was an easy read; beautifully written, on the literary side, hitting every note just right. I love the sly twists at the end and I love the idea of Lexie going about her work or tooling around in her car having these crazy sex-escapes. It really is whimsical as well as hot. That, as far as I can tell, is unique to Ms Green’s particular brand of 'steamy.'

Enchanting, innocent, and sexy.
These stories have a gentleness to them: sexy as can be, but enjoyable, and the endings make me want more. I can totally tell this is written from a different time frame (the way people looked at things then). The first, "Lexie's Awakening" indicates what a lot of people go through in their minds, questioning if they like what’s being said to them and how it makes them feel.

Sexy, dark, and thrilling!
In these short, hot teasers, Rowanna Green conveys the idea of pleasure for pleasure's sake. These stories explore secret desires and allow us to glimpse situations that could fulfill those dark fantasies. These are not love stories. They are fun, hot and exciting. Each short adventure grips you and you cannot put it down. If you enjoy adventurous pleasure exploration books, with a hint of non-con, then these stories are for you.

Hot, funny and compelling.
I enjoyed the characters, especially Lexie – that red skirt! The stories are so well written, I read them back to back. Although they are hot, they could have been more explicit, especially the second one, No Gentleman. I did not want to put them down - I had to read to the end.

Really great story.
I like the idea of this story, and I really liked the characters. I love how Sandy was smart enough to know that she was being manipulated, but was so sure of her self-worth that she knew when enough was enough and she was strong enough to walk away from a powerful man, especially in the time it was set (late 80's).

Modern office stories; too tame to be steamy.
I enjoyed the first story but felt the last two fell short of the mark; as though trying for light erotica but not quite getting there. I feel all the stories have further to go; it's almost like they were cut into chunks but they need more. I'm also not a fan of the level of pressure that Sandy was put under in No Gentleman while withholding the true depth of the plan from her.

As you can see, a mixed reaction from erotica fans, but hopefully it will let you know if these stories are at the right level for you. Still not sure if it's right for you? Read an extract

Thursday 15 March 2018

We likes a twist

As a little teaser for the forthcoming naughty shorts with a twist in the tail, here's an office-themed story. At least the first bit of it. If you can tell me the correct twist at the end, I'll send you a free copy of the first book featuring Sexy Lexie.
Hasn't Icy done an excellent job on the cover? I love it to bits.

Here's the story: to get the twist, you'll need to pay attention.

It's a Man's World
A naughty suggestion. A sleazy grope. How do you say no to the boss?

   Chris sat nervously in the secretary’s office, waiting the five minutes until the appointed time, remembering quite different sensations from the last time. There had been nerves then too, and apprehension, but behind it all was hope and promise, not this cold, dread sickness. It had been nearly three months ago, the first interview for a job – even before the final A-level exams finished.
   Mr Benton, “Please call me Andy,” had been very kind then, appreciating how nerves can affect a performance and doing his utmost to create a relaxed, easy atmosphere. He frequently mentioned his “open door” management policy; reckoned he was famous for it. “If you’ve any problems, work or otherwise, just make an appointment with Jane and we’ll try to sort it out.”
   Chris dearly hoped the guy would show the same understanding over this delicate matter as he had on the first meeting.
   Being in the office triggered all manner of memories: Coming out after the interview with the promise of a probationary contract to start the week after the last exam. Chris remembered that feeling of elation. Ok, it was conditional on the A-level results, but after the wall-to-wall study, this should not be a problem. 

   Better still; Andy mentioned the possibility of a full-time sponsored degree in the autumn if everything worked out well. Hearing the secretary put the important call through, Chris figured the time would be usefully spent cataloguing the major incidents, and scribbled a few notes as the memories played out.

   It had been an inauspicious start; most of the tasks a student was allowed to do were mundane and trivial; little more than clerical. But Chris quickly built a reputation as someone who would complete a task – however boring – accurately, efficiently and in half the time it took most new starters.
   Everything went well, and the jobs got more demanding after two weeks. Then everything changed.
   Sam came back from holiday and, right from their initial meeting, there were clues. Little things like the appraising once-over, and the inordinate length of their handshake, should have sounded warning bells, but Chris was far too inexperienced to read the signals.
   At the start, the touching was extremely subtle: a hand placed on an arm, a shoulder, or even a knee if they were sat together. Although Chris was not used to this amount of physical contact, coming from a cold, dispassionate family, it was not unpleasant. Ma’s standing advice had always been along the lines of: “Make allowances, everyone is brought up differently.”
   Every time it happened, her voice would play out with its plethora of platitudes: “Don’t take it to heart,” “It doesn’t mean anything,” and, “Some people are very tactile.” The real saving grace was that they didn’t meet very often; Sam had recently been promoted.

   Then Chris’ team leader, Roy, was out for a few weeks, so all of his team’s projects were temporarily transferred to Sam. Consequently they were spending almost all day together for a few days until the proposal for Chris’ new software suite was firmly outlined.
   The whole touchy-feely thing became more and more intrusive. It started with any excuse to use the soft chat area supposed to encourage better flow of ideas with its low comfortable sofas and coffee tables. Sam insisted they used one of the two-person sofas, and managed to take up so much room that their legs clashed; occasionally sitting so close that their thighs touched. Another favourite trick was to creep up and grab Chris from behind, taking great satisfaction in the resulting effect without a thought for personal boundaries.
   Chris began to dread every time there was a phone call and made sure the coffee pot was never empty to reduce the reasons for Sam to get up. What really brought the situation home was a chance comment when passing a group clustered at the water cooler.
   Trevor made a remark about how a certain manager seemed to have a problem keeping their hands off a certain trainee. Chris blushed furiously and hurried past to copy the schematic. If other people were noticing …
   As usual, the paper jammed, and Chris bent down to free it, unaware of Sam’s silent approach until the hand connected with denim, and the accompanying, “Never could resist a tempting target – nothing quite like a pert butt in tight jeans.”
   The shock knocked Chris off balance, banging head-first into the photocopier and cutting a finger on a sharp edge as one hand reached out instinctively to break the fall. It was humiliating enough to have Sam offering to “kiss it better” without having Andy witnessing it and walking off muttering something about horseplay in the office.

   Later that morning, Trevor was alone in the tea room and Chris asked as casually as possible if anyone else had noticed Sam’s excessive attention.
   He gave a knowing look. “Getting a bit much is it? It’s always the pretty ones. If you want to know about sexual harassment you should go and talk to Angela in the commercial department; she knows all about it.”
   Trevor didn’t say any more as someone else came in, but luckily Chris knew Angela – a petite blonde with a gentle smile.

   That lunchtime, Angela was sat alone and didn’t mind when Chris asked to sit next to her. After a little initial uncertainty, she seemed quite happy to talk about her experiences.
   Her manager had been much more abusive; he’d got very physical very quickly, touching her quite intimately after she’d only been working for him for a few days. In spite of her horrified rebukes he’d been really persistent, following her home and ringing up to tell her husband about their “affair.”
   Chris’ eyes widened in horror.
   “Bless you, it was horrific. Thankfully, the company were very supportive and moved him to another office.” “I bet you were made up. What a monster.”
   “You don’t know the half of it. Apparently, he tried it again, so they got rid of him. I was working for Andy Benton at the time, and he was so supportive.”
   Chris smiled, that was good to know.
   “Actually, there were a few benefits, strange as it seems.”
   “Really? What good could come from something like that?”
   “I enrolled in a course of self-defence classes so I could handle it if it ever happened again. And best of all, it brought me and my Joe closer together – he came along to the classes.”
   Chris couldn’t help but admire the way she’d been strengthened by the incident instead of being distressed by it. She went on to describe how she occasionally spoke at women’s meetings or to classes of schoolgirls about what had happened to her and what she had done about it.
   She cocked her head on one side. “But why are you interested in all this?”
   “Oh it’s just that I think someone in our office is suffering unwanted attentions at the moment, and I wanted to find out what the options are so I could offer some help.”
   “Oh that’s really sweet. Presumably it’s a manager doing the harassing? I thought so. Tell her to talk to her immediate boss – the company has very strict rules about this sort of thing.”
   Chris sighed. Not an option.
   Angela cottoned on quickly. “Of course, if it’s her immediate boss doing the harassing, she should go to his boss. But if she has any problems, tell her to come and talk to me; I’ve built up a few contacts in this area now.”
   Sam was in a meeting all afternoon, giving time to plan the best course of action; with the added bonus of no further incidents. Roy was due back the following day; maybe he would have some advice on how to handle the situation.
   When Roy finally had a minute to spare, however, he was not much help at all, casting doubts on everything he heard. “No way. Doesn’t sound like Sam at all. Are you sure about this? You couldn’t have mistaken friendliness for …”
   “No. Nothing friendly about being patted on the knee.” Or brushing thighs. Or being smacked on the butt.
   Roy frowned. “Well if you are absolutely sure, the only real solution would be to take it higher to Andy; but only if the facts are watertight and you have evidence to back it up.”
   Chris expected this kind of reaction from a man, and glared.
   “If you’re determined to pursue it, I can’t stop you. Just be aware this kind of accusations can ruin a promising career.”
   What about the fact my promising career is being ruined?

   The replay ended as the manager’s secretary came out with a kindly smile. “You can go in now.”
   Chris’ legs turned to jelly.
   Mr Benton listened patiently as the story unravelled, his face hard and stern; this was, after all, a serious matter. He got up at the end and paced round the room, obviously struggling with something in his head. Finally he said, not unkindly, “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Sam is one of my best managers with renowned people skills. The results from the management training course were exceptional; they’ve never had a student score so highly.”
   Andy leaned against the edge of his desk, sighing as he sought a reasonable explanation. “I think you may have misinterpreted one or two gestures. Some people do tend to use touch as a form of emphasis; I’m sure that’s all it is.” He looked at his watch as though he had a lot more things he’d rather be doing right at that moment. Folding his arms, he suggested there should be no problem now Roy was back. “Unless you have a problem with Roy as well?”
   Chris figures there wasn’t much point staying, he was obviously not taking this seriously. The next statement confirmed this.
   “Look, you don’t have much longer in the department, but we don’t want you to suffer. A transfer can be arranged if the situation really was unbearable.”
   It doesn’t get much worse. Chris left the office with mixed feelings of anger and frustration at the lack of support and helplessness of being unable to stop someone from taking advantage of their position of authority.
   It wasn’t that Sam was unattractive. Indeed, under different circumstances … That train of thought was stopped abruptly as its subject appeared round the corner looking quite grim.
   “Ah, Chris. My office, half an hour.” Chris nodded meekly, then watched, horrified, as Sam entered Andy’s office, wondering if he was going to discuss their conversation; they’d probably have a good old laugh about the whole thing.
   Just before reaching the office, he passed Angela who stopped. “Oh by the way, Chris. You know that matter we were discussing the other day? I forgot to tell you something. Your friend could keep a log of all the incidents – you know, date, time, place, brief description and most importantly any witnesses, that sort of thing … what’s the matter?”
   Chris felt self-pity surfacing and it must have shown as Angela said with concern, “Come on, tell me all about it, it looks pretty serious.”
   Unable to look her in the face, Chris swallowed. “It wasn’t a friend I was talking about, it was me.”
   “You? But how …? I mean, who was doing it?”
   The certainty in Angela’s voice plunged Chris deeper into despair. “I thought you might believe me …”
   “You don’t understand. It couldn’t possibly be Sam. I know this because ..."

 Don't forget, if you can tell me the correct twist at the end, I'll send you a free copy of the first book featuring Sexy Lexie.
If you just want to find out the ending, write to me at rogreen13 at hotmail dot com and I'll send you the link.

Thursday 1 March 2018

Birth of a Monster

Ok, maybe monster is overstating the case, but I'm feeling pretty monstrous, having mired myself in a bunch of reading matter which is not my normal happy hunting ground.

Let's just say, after reading all the way to the end of Grey (50 Shades from Christian's PoV), I'm now much better informed about the whole BDSM scene which I alluded to in a couple of my "Naughty Shorts." So now I need to make a few adjustments. 💋

It was like this - I've spent the last month revamping my dozen short stories (written back in the 90s before I'd written the 15 full-length published novels, and the 4 awaiting publication). In doing so, I spotted a common theme and, despite many of the stories having different heroines, there was a way of pulling them together. And so Sexy Lexie was born. As her name implies, she's a bit of a minx, and I had several steamy nights filling in the back story of how she got to be this person.

If you like short stories with a bit of sleazy steam, you can witness her creation here. It's just a teaser, and you can read the full story by signing up to join the launch team.
Imagine Anne Robinson looking over her glasses at you as she reads this in her deliciously stern voice: Be warned - I will be asking questions. 😉

Tuesday 13 February 2018

Dreamy Valentine's Day Sale

Just because I can, I'm having a crazy one day sale for all lovers of romance.
If you like it steamy, grab your copy of Triple Jeopardy for FREE.
Or Young Men Gone West for only 99cents/99p.
And a massive $2.50 off the Hostage box set, making it just over $2 per book (£1.56).
If you prefer a little less steam, try Don't Stop Believing for 99cents/99p or
(with added fantasy - of the Angel variety) Death Wishes for FREE. 
But you only have a day, then it's back to normal price. 😍😍😍

Sunday 11 February 2018

Do I look excited?

The jumping up and down, 90-mile-an-hour handclapping and happy dancing round the room may be a bit of a giveaway.
After years (over 20) of lying unloved and forgotten in a file (or six) on my computer, I'm breathing life into some of the very first stories I ever wrote. If you're a writer, you'll know the ones I mean; every author has them. The ones you wrote just to see if you could do this writing thing. And I suspect many others have a tale or two tucked away.
The reason I'm revamping these naughty shorts is because they all feature a topic I cannot escape from right now - the sexploitation of young, vulnerable (mostly) women.

The strongest motivation for me is the opportunity to change the commonly held opinion amongst people who have never been in the sorry situations these girls find themselves in. The attitudes that, "she was asking for it," or "she should have just stood up for herself," or the fallback, "what did she expect, dressing like that?"
Trust me, it's really hard when the person abusing is someone you've been told you should respect: a family member, a customer, a boss. And who's gonna believe the words of a mere girl over a respectable pillar of society?
Hopefully, these stories will do their bit to open eyes and change attitudes.

Right now, I've just come to the end of some intensive edits, and in some cases and almost complete overhaul. Back in the mid 90's, I was learning my craft and the prose, plotting and (especially) grammar/punctuation left a lot to be desired. With the help of my awesome editor, they are now fit for human consumption, but I need some help. If you are interested in helping with this venture, I'm in desperate need of some beta readers. Find out more here.

I'll keep you posted.

Sunday 14 January 2018

Happy New Year

And so far, it really is.
I ran a little "January Sale" on my two Juke Box Musicals, and they ended up at #1 and #2 in the Musicals Bestseller list.

Also, my youngest passed her driving test, and my middle daughter picked up her Masters Degree in Voice teaching from none other than Lenny Henry. That's the 5th graduation ceremony I've attended, and it was head and shoulders above the rest - that guy really knows how to work an audience.

So far this year is looking a wee bit barren on the releases front for Ro - concentrating on building up the Jacky Gray series with at least three more planned in the Hengist and Bryant Rockwell series.
Maybe the summer will bring forth another juke box musical. Or there's a trilogy which may make it past Nano ...
Oh, and Chris Evans just reminded me February/March will bring with it another 500 Words competition. Another 60 kids' stories to grade. I do love my life, honestly.

Friday 8 December 2017

Christmas Reading

Feast your eyes on these fantabulous festive stocking-fillers for those of you looking to fill your empty kindle. Choose from enchanting fantasy, sumptuous romance, tantalising mystery and many others - there really is something for everyone. Find out more by clicking on any piccy

Time Travel/Fantasy/SCI-FI
Romance: Teen, Sweet and Festive
Family, Mystery, Kids and Non-Fiction

Monday 2 October 2017

Counting down to ...

... another month of being off grid. November is fast approaching, bringing with it the take-no-prisoners, 1667-words-every-day to qualify for the coveted NaNoWriMo award. I'm torn between two projects this year - more on that later.
But I'm keen to crack on with the second of the City Boy Juke Box musical novellas I wrote last Nano. My goal is to publish before Christmas. Tall order, I know. Unfortunately, between now and then, all my regular team are busy with another release in the Bryant Rockwell series.

So I'm looking for a particular sort of Beta - someone who doesn't mind the odd transcription error (so difficult to spot all the bugs speech-to-text introduces - it usually takes 4 or 5 extra pairs of eyes to get every single one - they are slippery little blighters). And in particular, someone who can spot a British idiom/spelling at twenty paces and suggest a US alternative.
If this is you, please drop me a comment below and we'll figure a way of getting together.
Here's an extract of the 1st scene to whet your appetite:

1 – A Modern Love Affair 

   Robin sat back on the luxurious recliner and raised his hand, a signal to the control room to resume the movie where he’d let left off.
   Hudson, the English butler, appeared with a bow. “More wine, sir?”
   A nod saw his glass of Bollinger replenished, and the guy pulled the trolley closer. “Would sir like the caviar, smoked salmon, or quails’ eggs?”
   “Any chance of a bit of each?” It was a game they played often, but only when she was not around.    “I took the liberty of preparing that.” Hudson placed the next course on the high-tech adjustable table along with the necessary silverware. He offered the condiments in a well-worn ritual, knowing full well Robin would refuse.
   The first time Robin did this, saying how he trusted the chef’s expertise, was the only time he got behind the façade. The man’s stiff upper lip, a testament of his apprenticeship in a British stately home, cracked in a brief twitch which some people might have recognized as a smile.

   Back on his first day at this monster of a mansion, Robin had wandered downstairs after dinner to hear Hudson entertaining the staff with the incident. He followed with the assertion that Robin never added any further seasoning or sauce. Colorful language could not disguise the chef’s obvious approval, and the strength of feeling from the rest of the staff made Robin pause. He crept away, understanding for the first time, the huge divide between upstairs and downstairs.
   From that point on, Robin’s every culinary desire was catered for, no matter what time of day or night. Now he knew the man a little better, Robin took pleasure in teasing Hudson about his belt-and-braces approach of leaving the plate of sauces on the trolley, just in case.
   With a sigh, he wondered what the below-stairs staff really thought of him. Despite their professional training which meant none of them would actually meet his eye, he detected a certain body language which said many of them, especially the men, envied his position, living on “mother’s handouts” – even though his benefactress was not his mother.
   The clever spotlight on the table illuminated his solo meal just enough for Robin to appreciate the artistry of the presentation, without detracting from the darkness of the room. How proud his father would be if he could see him now. His mother not so much, her austere Scottish upbringing meant she had a real downer on TV dinners. But, heck. This was no ordinary couch potato thing. 

   Annamarina, Robin’s wife, boasted at every opportunity that this was the largest private movie viewing theatre in New York. After all, wasn’t she the highest grossing female movie star in the world? Who cared that Spielberg had charged way over the odds for this prime real estate in the center of Manhattan? Or rather, his realtor had. All his wife cared about was the number of column inches the sale had brought. Or so it seemed when she brought it up at every conceivable opportunity.
   Robin sipped the ridiculously-priced wine, disliking intensely the way the bubbles made his nose fizz, but she refused to allow what she called “budget booze” in the house. He frowned at an image of her saying the words, disdain wrinkling her nose and turning her wide eyes into ugly slits.
   Maybe, once the movie finished, he’d nip out on his latest toy, and grab a bottle from an all-night corner market. Complete with brown bag. That thought cheered him up immensely as he dug the delicate, two-tined fork into the gelatinous mass and relished the explosion of flavors on his tongue.

   How far had they come from their first movie date together? Shaking his head, he grinned at the image of the pair of them, holding hands on the back row, thinking that a change of clothes and a baseball cap would be enough to disguise her when the news of her husband’s law-breaking indiscretions hit the newsstands. They got turfed out, only to cause a near riot at a nearby diner. For a moment, he allowed himself to remember the excitement of their first few months together, when they connected over the smallest things like a book they both read, and a song they both loved.

   How different to today? Every breakfast they shared was seconds out, waiting for the bell to start the latest argument. A fine romance indeed, as her management company tried to sell him down the river at any opportunity, making it clear he was a nobody, hanging on the coat-tails of her success, no matter how he tried to carve out a independent career as a consultant.
   No matter how her PR guys tried to spin it, the writing was on the wall; the days of wine and roses were over. Every day was head-to-toe sulk and brood. He took another sip of fizz. As with the wine, she controlled what movies were played in her cinema. Of course, every single thing she’d ever acted in was there. Apart from that, she had little else except her entire collection of Broadway musicals from the ’50s. Along with a couple of action movies starring the former husband she’d taken for every penny when he made the mistake of being caught on camera with his boyfriend. In bed in a sleazy hotel room.

   Putting aside these unsavory memories, Robin focused back to her latest pre-release footage, knowing she would quiz him about it later. She claimed to value his opinion, calling him her “everyman barometer.” Her publicist reckoned Robin was perfectly placed to determine what the man-on-the-street wanted from a movie. Robin could have taken gross offence at this but, for whatever reason, his opinions were unerringly correct. As his reputation spread, he gained the respect of several influential producers who were willing to pay substantial sums of money for his comments and suggestions on their latest projects.
   When she found out, Annamarina insisted he paid a criminally high percentage of his earnings to charity. Her motive was obvious, she didn’t want him to gain autonomy and break away from her clutches. But with the help of an eternally grateful accountant, he’d become canny about managing his earnings and had managed to squirrel away a respectable rainy-day fund. Even now, the guy’s Jag was only on the road thanks to his expertise, it was a perfect example of back-scratching symbiosis.

   Several courses and glasses of champagne later, Robin found his eyes closing. Nothing to do with the fact it was yet another formulaic rom-com-adventure to add to all the adventure-rom-coms which had kept her star on the ascendant for so many years.
   Pushing aside the remains of the exquisite sugar confection he’d chosen for pudding, he stood. Instantly the screen froze, leaving her with an unfortunate expression, as though she’d been caught mid-sneeze. Even with this undignified face, she was beautiful. Stretching out stiff limbs, he took a long, slow meander to the bathroom and back, thinking about their first meeting.

   Driving past her car on a lonely stretch of interstate, he’d pulled up immediately, concerned about seeing no driver near the car. “Helpful Harry,” his mum called him, even as she warned of the dangers.
   A woman slept in the fully-reclined passenger seat, her face hidden by a scarf and dark glasses. The tale about visiting her mother didn’t quite ring true, but he was a sucker for a damsel in distress.
   He figured the dark glasses were to hide the fact she’d been crying. The air of mystery about her, added to an intense vulnerability, brought out his protective instincts.
   As her story unfolded, it became clear this was a woman not used to fending for herself in the wilds of middle-America. A woman not clued in to the most basic things about hiring a rental car, like checking the spare. Luckily, his Boy-Scout instincts provided a rope and he towed her to the nearest gas station where he changed the flat and filled the spare with air. He remembered how she’d insisted on buying him a meal at the nearby diner.
   “There’s no need for that.”
   “There absolutely is. I’d have been stranded forever.” The woman, who called herself Betsy, gripped his arm, then dropped it, standing back.
   His stomach growled, alerting him to how long since he last ate, so he followed her lead, hustling to open the door.
   She walked through to a window seat and sat, scanning the menu with a disgruntled huff. Standing, she asked him to order her a decaf coffee, with soya milk before slipping to the rest rooms.

   On her return, he was still trying to choose between the ultra-burger and a chilli-dog. She removed her dark glasses to glare at the waitress who stood close enough that her hip brushed his shoulder.
   He made his choice: The burger.
   As the waitress headed toward the counter, Betsy sat, tightening the scarf which covered her hair, asking him about his life.
   He gave her a potted history from the time he left Edinburgh, and she asked a lot of questions, revealing their mutual love of theatre.
   When the waitress brought her coffee, Betsy sniffed it suspiciously. “Are you sure this is soya milk?”
   “Sho is, honeychile.” The waitress winked at Robin.
   “You better not be lying, because I’m lactose intolerant.”
   The waitress lost her fake southern accent. “Are you casting aspersions on my integrity?”
   Betsy stared with a blank expression, and the woman’s lip curled. “I said, are you calling me a liar?”
   Robin stepped in with a calming word before the dispute attracted diner-wide attention. The waitress gave a bland smile as she stalked off, returning several minutes later with a burger for him and a frown for his companion.
   During the meal, Betsy entertained him with anecdotes of her life in New York and travels around the country. When he finished eating, she asked for the check, only to find she had no cash to pay and they refused plastic.
   Robin paid up, ignoring her protests. As they walked back to the cars, he offered to follow her back to the airport where she was due to return the car. After a moment’s hesitation, she agreed. When they reached the airport, she insisted on finding a cashpoint to pay him for his efforts, but as they entered the terminal building, someone recognized her, shouting her name. He watched in mild amusement as she fled through security, paparazzi piranhas snapping at her heels.

Wednesday 20 September 2017

Bookhippo Featured Author

Book HippoHow cool is this???
I kinda missed out on the chance to brag when it happened earlier, but there was a heck of a lot going on back in August. But here's how special it is:
"Congratulations on being a featured author. We hand-pick our books, so this is something to be proud of."
Don't think I've ever been hand-picked before, so a massive (hippo-sized) Thank You to the awesome crew at Bookhippo.

And because of this, I've decided to extend the deal for a few more days - you can still get Wolf in Sheep's Clothing at a silly 99p/99cents. Check it out here for Kindle, here for other platforms.

Thursday 14 September 2017

Stealing Sheep

For the next week, Wolf in Sheep's Clothing is a steal.

Only 99cents/99pence/99euros for this "twister of a read from beginning to end," currently sitting at #11 in the UK Military Thrillers Bestseller chart.

Get your Kindle copy here, or click here for other platforms.

Here's the blurb:

A fragile mum with HUGE secrets. An irreverent man-mountain with a gooey centre. An undercover mission. Sparks WILL fly.

Every man in Carrie’s life wants to control her. That’s just the way it is. So, when her ex-military father needs an undercover husband and wife team to root out a traitor, she endures the selection process. From self-defence training to sniffing sweaty tee-shirts, she holds her own against trained professionals, one of whom wants her gone.

The soldier picked to infiltrate her dad’s factory is everything she’s learned to hate in a man. Built like a Welsh mountain, Bryn is an unlikely partner whose detective skills expose her shameful secrets. Battling deeply-buried terrors, Carrie faces setbacks designed to stretch her tenuous grip on reality to its limit. His gentle kindness pierces her armour, and mutual interests restore her tattered self-esteem.

Tensions ramp as the factory manager is kidnapped and a security breach catapults the firm into an unsavoury global arena. Carrie ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time. With her track record, the chances of surviving unscathed are slim.

This suspenseful military thriller will appeal to readers who like character-driven stories with laughs, thrills, and unexpected romance.

Tuesday 1 August 2017

Young Men Gone West ...

... for a city room. Young men gone West, for their gin and vermouth. If you've heard of City Boy, a crazy awesome band in the 80's, you may well, like me, have listened to that album with images of a sleazy part of town (for me, it could only be Vegas) and an extremely naughty teacher, Dear Jean.

Last November, I took 18 of their most awesome (and some of the naughtiest) songs and created a jukebox musical (think Rock of Ages Queen's We Will Rock You). This is the story behind that musical. But be warned: It’s not for the fainthearted – the inside of an 18-yr-old boy’s head and sweet, clean read do not good bedfellows make.

It's available for a few days at £0.99/$0.99 check it out here.

And if you want to find out a little more, click here.

Monday 31 July 2017

Fox gets a sprucing

To celebrate a long-overdue re-work of Fox Among Wolves,
I've put it on sale for 99p/$0.99 for the next week.
And the photo shows you exactly how I've been celebrating.
Those of you who know me well, will understand the significance of the Gray.

A couple of reviewers have kindly pointed out a few typos, so I've gone through it with a fine-tooth comb and corrected them. You can't please all of the people all of the time, and because it's a story set in England, my characters speak with British accents and use British idioms. That's not changing, I'm afraid, but I've made it a little clearer, so people who are offended by that have the choice before they buy!
Based on some comments about the implausibility of a young woman in an isolated country house opening the door to a bunch of strangers on a soggy winter's night, I've added some insight to the state of Ginny's mind when she did this.

Here's a sneak preview:
“What a day.” Ginny sighed, easing herself under the peach-scented bubbles, letting the steamy heat take some of the tension out of her weary limbs. Day? What a week! Stress was much too small a word for the complete and utter physical exhaustion she felt right now. Her mental state was no better. Taking a mouthful of wine, she lay back, luxuriating in the mellow tang, closing her eyes for a moment as she tried hard to believe in the power of relaxation. How did it go? Something about emptying your mind of all the unsettling thoughts. Pretty much the whole of the last week, then.
The dratted voice from her meditation CD filled her head. “Now, breathe deeply and force your mind to think of your perfect peace place.” Bloody stupid woman and her alliterations.
Another sip of Chardonnay would help. No, what would really help was a big, brave hunk to sweep her off her feet and restore her faith in men. Someone strong enough to protect her from danger, but with a soft, squidgy centre: in touch with his feminine side and willing to take on his share of the household chores. Which, of course, would make him bat for the other side. Her dream shattered as she remembered the sequence in Bedazzled where Brendan Fraser’s character had tried to design the man he wanted to be, in order to win his girl.
Sipping the wine, she slipped back into the bubbles, letting the romance of Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Fantasia relax her as she tried to build her ultimate mate. Good sense of humour was at the top of the list, along with honesty and courage. He should be kind, generous … oh bugger, the guy was veering off into Mary-Sue territory. How about witty, smart enough to hold a decent conversation on most topics, and completely comfortable in his own skin? Good start. Self-reliance had a lot going for it; mummy’s boys need not apply. But he needed more of an edge.
The music hit a crashy-bangy bit, which made eight-year-old her and her cousin, Carrie, hide behind the sofa, giggling in pretend terror.
That’s what he needed, a hint of danger. Her catalogue continued: mysterious, brooding, and occasionally wild. Considerate and adventurous in bed.
Dark themes in the music conspired to delve deep into her memory, and she was once more assaulted by the recent experience: hands pawing at her clothes, lips hissing revolting words and licking … STOP!!!
Plunging under the water, she immersed herself in the task of rinsing off the conditioner. It had been drying out for a while, making it hard to shift. Her hair was silky smooth as she gave it a final cool rinse, and piled it on top of her head, fixing it in a clasp.
She needed a good image to replace the nightmare. Like at the end of a horror movie – she always watched a comedy show to soothe the residual adrenaline making her muscles twitch. Pouring another inch of hot water into the bath, she toyed with the idea of a number of men with different combinations of her preferred attributes.
When she turned off the taps, the music quieted enough for her to hear rain lashing the windows as the storm raged outside. It brought to mind the old song, “It’s Raining Men.”
Of course. What she needed was a houseful of men so she could determine her ideal type. Like that was ever gonna happen. Smiling at Aunt Ellie’s recent remark about “being ripe for romance,” Ginny closed her eyes and called on her imagination to help out.
A secluded beach, with one of those straw-topped huts housing a bar. Her gaze flitted over a number of barflies, all superb male specimens with muscular torsos and bulging biceps, each one making eye-contact in his own unique way. She was excited to meet each one and try out the adventure their smile promised. As she lay on a sunbed, a stunning waiter approached with another glass of perfectly chilled Champagne, accompanied by the melody of the wind chimes behind the bar. She smiled up at the gorgeous blond, but as she reached out for the glass, the bell rang again, shattering her illusion, despite its apologetic tone. You have to be kidding, right? No way was that the front door, not this late on a soggy Saturday night.
“Go away, there’s no one in.” Did she actually say the thought aloud? If she kept quiet, whoever it was might think the house was empty and leave her alone. Settling back into the bath, she strove to recall the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the healing warmth of the sun on her body, searching in vain for the bronzed Adonis and her sextet of hunks. Tee hee.
The urgent rapping of the door knocker, accompanied by continuous chiming, drove her out of the bath. Oh, for goodness sake, nobody could sleep through that amount of noise. Not even with a heavy sedative. She grabbed her purple bathrobe and dried her feet enough to shove them in fluffy slippers. The uninvited visitor would have to live without the sleek black cocktail number and a trowel-full of foundation. Anyway, she was gonna come straight back and resume her yummy dream as soon as she’d sent the person packing. More to the point, she couldn’t risk the din going on for a second longer than necessary.
She switched on the light at the top of the stairs, and the racket stopped. Thank goodness. Descending with purpose, she coiled her damp hair into a towelling turban. The shadow peering through the coloured glass stood back as she approached. With a final tug on the robe’s belt, she unlocked the door and pulled it as wide as the chain would allow.
“Thank God. I saw the light at the back and hoped someone might be in.” The intensely male voice had the energy of recent effort.
Ginny flinched. What little she could see of the man made her want to slam the door shut – fast. His face and hand were spattered in blood. Zombie apocalypse, anyone?
Observing her horrified reaction, his gesture was a direct appeal to her sympathy. “Please, you’ve got to help us; there’s no one else around. Bryn’s car skidded and crashed into a tree.” He moved aside. “He’s got so many cuts from broken glass, I can’t tell how badly he’s hurt. He may have a cracked skull.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked past him to where the security light picked out a man sitting on the bottom step, holding his head in his hands and groaning.
The first guy carried on talking. “This place is like the back of beyond; no network coverage at all.”
She had to make a snap decision. No contest.
“I’m sorry. My uncle won’t let strangers in the house. I’ll call an ambulance for your friend.”
“Thanks, you’re very kind.”
She pushed the door to close it.
“Wait!” Something in his voice made her halt.
A beat. “Look, I know what you must be thinking, but Bryn’s in shock, and I don’t know how much longer he’s going to last out here in the cold.” He glanced down as the other man swayed ominously. Something quickened his words. Concern?
“He’s lost a lot of blood. If you could just let him come into the warmth … please. It could be ages until anyone comes and he’s in no state to do you any harm. I can go back and wait in the car.”

His sincerity was persuasive, and she was influenced by recent events: If not for a similar act of kindness, Uncle Reg might never have made it to hospital in time. She shuddered. “Ok, wait a sec. I’ll have to take the chain off.”

Friday 30 June 2017

More Lyric fun

Years ago, I got hooked on these dratted lyrics and I ran a quiz every Christmas with a hundred of the things. People regularly growled when they saw me coming because the songs stay in your head for days afterwards. This one bugged me for ages - there was no internet back then: "Oh-hhh, reaching out for something, Touching nothing's all I ever do" - can you guess it?

Here's the next bunch - all I need is the titles. If you want a bit of a clue, scroll down.
Of course, with the internet, it's way too easy to look them up, but try for at least ten minutes before resorting to that. If you didn't find the answer to the last lot, they're in the comment at the bottom of the post below this one.

From the Fox Among Wolves soundtrack
Now I just want to get close to you
An' taste your love so sweet
And I just want to make love to you
Feel your body heat

From the Death Wishes soundtrack
And down the waterfall
Wherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call, she won't forsake me

From the Don't Stop Believing soundtrack
Someday love will find you
Break those chains that bind you
One night will remind you
How we touched  ...

A heads up: a heck of a lot of titles come from my fave artists: Journey, Queen, Bowie, City Boy, Whitesnake - pretty much anything rock related. But there are other genres, including a few novelty ones with song titles which fit the action.

Fox - A stationary blonde serpent as darkness falls
Death Wishes - A paranormal creature from a bad-ass Stoke lad
DSB - The opening riff makes a super-cool ring tone

If you think you know the answer, add a comment below and, even better, leave me a lyric from your fave tune to see if I can guess it.

Thursday 8 June 2017

The Soundtrack to my life

Just a bit of fun. Here are lyrics from three songs for you to guess the titles.
Each one is taken from the soundtrack of one of my books - something I do to give me an awesome playlist while I'm busy scribbling.

So here's the first batch.
If you want a bit of a clue, scroll down, but give yourself a chance, first.

From the Fox Among Wolves soundtrack
'Cause tonight for the first time,
Just about half-past ten,
For the first time in history,
It’s gonna start …

From the Death Wishes soundtrack
Well we got no class
And we got no principles
And we got no innocence
We can't even think of a word that rhymes

From the Don't Stop Believing soundtrack
And lovin' a music man ain't
always what it's supposed to be,
Oh girl you stand, by me.
I'm forever yours ...

A heads up: a heck of a lot of titles come from my fave artists: Journey, Queen, Bowie, City Boy, Whitesnake - pretty much anything rock related. But there are other genres, including a few novelty ones with song titles which fit the action.

Fox - Every woman's dream??? Male precipitation
Death Wishes - A subversive song from a bunny-loving' guy
DSB - I sincerely hope you weren't expecting the title track

If you think you know the answer, add a comment below and, even better, leave me a lyric from your fave tune to see if I can guess it.