Wealthy New York socialite Grace Preston uses men for amusement. She is a very womanly  being. I think she is very conflicted between being secure and insecure. When she is dating a model Jonathan and nothing happens she is confused. Going over things in her head it just doest make sense who he has not made a move. After her tragic engagement is over it is hard for her to get over Craig. I mean her was her “IT” She becomes baffled thinking that maybe her trouble is there is never going to be another it for her.  

While this is going on the sub plot is heating up. Woman are being murdered. They are all fitting her description. There is Grace, her best friend who lives next door and a bar. Well you know what happens. It doesnt take long for Cole to realize at about the same time Grace does, they are hotter than a habanero inside a taco in Mexico!

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Some of the best quotes from the book (in my opinion) 

“Grace, you are me in female form. I know you as well as I know myself.” Smiling at his confirmation of our similar personalities, I dug in.  location 1070

To say I wanted him wasn’t powerful enough. I wanted to possess him, make him need me like I needed him. location 1125

I was thinking, if my night out with the girls trolling is what brought him here today, than it’s safe to assume he had feelings for me. Either that or he was just really horny…but 

location 2257

I swear his voice alone can coax an orgasm from me.

 location 2301

The sex-crazed nymphet in my head was screaming, “Forget dinner, food—who needs food?  location 2354

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Synopsis: 

Recommended for 17 years+. This book contains language which some may find offensive and sexual situations.

Bree ‘Breeze’ Delany never imagined her life could sink so deep. That such intense pain could take up residence in her heart and shred her soul to pieces. And all it had taken was one little word to drag Bree to the depths of this despair, cancer.

It took just one person to pull Bree from the darkness, her best friend Harper Somerville. Determined to show his Breeze the beauty in life no matter how short or long it is, Harper takes Bree on the road trip of a life time.

Not only does Harper remind Bree how exciting and beautiful life is, but he also shows her a passion and love that she has only read about in her naughty romance novels.

Screw happily ever afters, perhaps life was meant to be lived with happily ever nows…

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 Cry of the Needle is a searing tale of love and vengeance. Revenge that is a dish best served Irish.

When medical malpractice leads to violent revenge, Irish-style…

Kieran Kelly’s world turns upside down when his wife’s health is devastated by an epidural in childbirth. Incensed by damning evidence of medical and pharmaceutical misconduct, the tormented former IRA hit man plots revenge against those he deems responsible, including a government that doesn’t seem to care. 

Kelly’s quest brings him face-to-face with an alcoholic physician, an altruistic scientist and a corrupt government minister – but not before the love of a stunningly beautiful but crippled Countess makes him question his motives. He meets Countess Magda von Esterhazy at a meeting of a self-help group for victims of the uniquely painful iatrogenic (doctor-caused) disease that struck down his wife. Magda awakens feelings that he thought he had lost forever. 

Meanwhile, one of Kelly’s targets, scientist Jonathan Tring, finds himself embroiled in the Machiavellian machinations of his boss, the gruff and corrupt owner of a pharmaceutical company, and the man’s stunning young American wife. In all the mayhem, Tring, too, finds love – and desperately wants to live to enjoy it.

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The author:

Brought up in the East End of London, I left school at the age of seventeen and was indentured into a local newspaper. By the age of twenty-six, I was working as a foreign correspondent in the Middle East. I covered two wars from Tel Aviv, but it was the Yom Kippur war of 1973 that remains the most vivid. I was on the first plane out of London one week into the war. I was accompanied by my wife, Yael, and our baby son, Max. Yael had six brothers fighting in the war. Once we neared the Eastern Mediterranean, we were escorted by Israeli jet fighters. It was clear that there was a worry that the Egyptian air force might seek to shoot us down. We landed safely, and it took me a while to get accreditation with the Israel Defense Force (IDF). I later accompanied Israeli forces up the Golan Heights, and I was one of the first journalists to reach the ceasefire line at Km-101 in the Egyptian desert. I was only once in danger of losing my life, and that was from a ‘friendly’ Caterpillar tractor that was attempting to clear burnt out Syrian armour from narrow paths on Mount Hermon. You would not be reading this but for the presence of mind of a colleague, AP photographer Paul Roque, who jumped out of our car and raced towards the Leviathan, which had just negotiated the brow of the ridge and was heading our way at full speed. It was obvious that the driver had not seen us. Paul managed to alert him just inches from pushing our Plymouth saloon car (almost as big as a tank!) down the mountainside. The closest of calls.

The Yom Kippur war forms the background to part of the main protagonist’s story in The Winds of Kedem. In 1980, I emigrated to Israel with my wife and children and served in the Israeli army three years later. In 1986, we returned to live in London, where we now reside.

Prior to covering the 1973 war, I had worked as a court reporter, which helped me write the court scenes in Schreiber’s Secret, although Nigel Lithman, QC, provided vital assistance in this respect.

There are some things in life that are highly predictable. One of them is that it will be hot and sunny in Tel Aviv, Israel, in early August. On one such day, 8 August 1979, I happened to be visiting the city that I love above all others when I felt my back give out. I was bent double and in terrible pain.

I somehow climbed into a taxi and made my way to Tel Hashomer, the largest hospital in Israel. Within a couple of hours I had undergone a procedure that changed my life irrevocably. It’s called a myelogram, and it is the injection of a dye into the spine in order that any prolapse might be seen on x-ray. In those days, the dye was oil-based and was called Pantopaque. It was also too toxic for use in humans.

Almost immediately, I began to feel symptoms such as pins and needles in both legs; symptoms that I had not suffered previously. The attack lasted for such a long time – more than three months – that my employers, the Reuters international news agency, decided that I was too ill to remain in work, so they put me on their Prolonged Disability Scheme.

For the next nineteen years I suffered recurring bouts of this terrible illness, adhesive arachnoiditis, which would perhaps, in my case, be better described as chemically induced spinal meningitis. Its myriad symptoms are described in Cry of the Needle, so there is no need to repeat them here.

In July 1998, I suffered a major attack that left me virtually bedridden for three years. It was also in that year that I was diagnosed correctly. Scores of experts had failed to do so during the previous nineteen years. Thanks to a self help group, I learned about the disease and its causes. Although still very ill, I felt the urge to continue writing, and to make my third book one that revolved around my illness. After a year of agony, and one in which sitting was purgatory, the result was the polemical thriller about medical malpractice that is Informed Consent. There is no cure for my illness, and I am forced to do most of my writing while standing up and using speech recognition software. I also lost an eight-year battle for justice against the American drug company and the Israeli hospital I deemed negligent in causing my condition. How and why I lost is explained more fully in the Author’s Note in Informed Consent.

A few years after I completed Cry of the Needle, I met a fellow sufferer, Bobbie Cecchini, via the Internet. The result was helping her to write her incredible life story, High Heels & 18 Wheels. I love to hear from readers about my books, my blog, etc., so feel free to drop me a line. You can contact me at radford46@ntlworld.com

The climate is changing.  Thousands are fleeing the chaos and social unrest.

With their own water and power supplies, fourteen year old Nairne and her family are well prepared to cope, but most people are less fortunate.  When Nairne persuades her father to house some of the evacuees on their small holding in the south of Scotland she plunges the family into a world of violence, deception and murder.

With society at breaking point, she has to grow up quickly as she discovers that the fortress Daniel built to give his children a chance has become the prize in a struggle where winning can mean the difference between life and death.

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About this author 

Rachel Meehan lives in rural, southern Scotland and has been writing fiction for a number of years, concentrating on the young adult genre. This passion for writing comes from Rachel’s artistic background and reflects her own interests in plot-driven writing that has its context in real life.

Rachel loves reading fiction especially, young adult, end of the world and dystopian novels. She also has a keen interest in the environment.

Rachel lives with her partner, and their house is situated well above sea level where they grow much of their own food and generate some of their own electricity.

Rachel checks her garden and surrounding areas regularly for signs of triffids..