Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Blondie's Books From Friends --Author Spotlight on Geoffrey West

Blondie's Books From Friends -- Author Spotlight on Geoffrey West

This year on my blog I am offering my lovely readers a splash of watery fun using excerpts from some great authors' books. When you see blogs with the title Blondie's Books From Friends (Blondie's BFFs) you know you're in for a treat with a new water adventure from a talented author. If you would like to be featured on here please leave a comment or contact me on any of my social media sites below. 

My novel, Stealing Time, is out on Amazon and you can find it here, and it currently has 13 5-star reviews on the US and UK sites!  I'm working on getting it in paperback as soon as possible and I'm in negotiations with a voice talent for the audiobook. Book two is half-way done and I'm busy writing the rest of it.

As always I encourage you to leave a comment below. I'm always grateful when readers let me know they were here.

Author Spotlight on Geoffrey West and His Novel Doppelganger

This week's watery splash is from Geoffrey West and his second novel in the Jack Lockwood Mystery series Doppelganger. Geoffrey was introduced to me by the infamous Terry Tyler (@terrytyler4 on twitter) to help me with the historical bits and bobs on my debut novel, Stealing Time. Geoffrey was a huge help with the English dialog and historical whatnots from the eighteenth century and I highly recommend him. 

My business, Blondie's Custom Book Covers also created the cover from his latest release, Sheer Fear, that you can find here. We are helping him with a new book in the Jack Lockwood Series, that you can find more on here

Doppelganger -- The Second Jack Lockwood Mystery Novel


What happens if you fall in love with a killer? Jack Lockwood, psychologist/criminal profiler and writer falls in love with Lucy Green, whom he later has reason to believe may be the child-killer, Megan Foster. Megan was held in custody at age eight, in 1982, and released ten years later with a new identity. Simultaneously, Jack is being targeted by a gangster who does not want him to write his (unauthorized) biography. What’s more there’s a serial killer on the loose in historic Canterbury, someone christened ‘the Bible Killer’, who targets women and kills them in a particularly gruesome manner. Is Lucy the Bible Killer? Jack has to find out, but the answers are far from simple.


     Once I was outside, feeling the full force of the rain pounding hard into my face, I wondered if I’d been stubborn and stupid to have taken the decision. The swirling torrent was already a flood by anyone’s standards, the water I was plunging through nearly six inches deep, swirling and eddying as I walked, and hard to negotiate, like wading through a swimming pool, oozing and sucking at each step, already surging over the top of my Wellington boots and soaking my socks. The rain was falling so hard it actually hurt my cheeks, such was the force of the water, and all I could do was keep my head down and go forwards. My ‘storm proof’ flack jacket’s waterproofing was also compromised, so that icy water clawed at my skin. And it was practically impossible to see through the misty torrent, as if I was groping through an angry, dark, terrifying world of freezing streaming water.
I remembered I’d seen Ken Gifford’s cottage when I’d first arrived here in sunshine, and I recalled it was only a few hundred yards down the road. I pictured the water getting as deep as a couple of feet, then up to my waist. Would there be some kind of tide, or water-borne currents that could sweep me away? I had no idea, nor did I really want to dwell on the thought. It was better not to think too deeply, just get on with what was in front of me. 
After a while I saw Ken’s cottage in the distance, and thanked heaven that I’d be there very soon. The rising rock of the mountain was to my left, but to the right the road had now completely disappeared, and without the rock to cling to I could easily have become disorientated. Unable to get back to Llantrissant Manor.
Wading up what I assumed was Ken’s front drive, I made it to his door. The builder of Ken’s cottage hadn’t been so farsighted as those who had constructed Llantrissant Manor. Although Ken’s ground floor was a foot higher than its surroundings, this was barely enough to keep the flood at bay, and the water level was virtually up to his top step. 
He came to the door in response to my knock. “Hello, neighbour,” the old man said warmly, peering out at me above his half glasses. He wore blue jeans and a large blue sweater, and gumboots, the same as mine. “All set for the flood?”
“That’s what I came to ask you about.” I replied entering his narrow hallway, shivering with the freezing ice against my skin. “You’re very welcome to come up to the Manor—I think we’re on slightly higher ground than you are.”
“That’s kind of you, but this is nothing, happens most years.” He sounded calm and relaxed. “Ten years ago the valley was flooded bloody nearly three feet deep, and it wasn’t much better last year. We’re used to it, see? Just a question of shifting things upstairs and staying put. Maureen and I did all that this morning, so we’ll just go up and sit it out.”
“What if the electricity goes?”
“Candles. We’ve got plenty to spare if you need any. We’ve even got a battery powered telly to pass the time. Plus a camping stove for cooking, and we’ve already filled our water carriers. You’d better do that, sometimes the tap water gets contaminated.”
“We will, I remember seeing some in the cupboard. As for the candles, there’s no need thanks, we’re supposed to have a backup generator.”
“Buggers, generators, work fine when you test ‘em, then when you depend on them, sometimes they let you down. Just take a few in case.”
“I didn’t mean to–”
“Course you didn’t, I know that.” He took my arm and squeezed gently. “We really appreciate the offer. I knew you were a nice bloke. Liked you the first time I met you, instinct you might say. And to think you’ve made all this effort to came out in this bloody awful weather because you wanted to help us out of a mess. The least we can do in return is let you have a few essentials in case you need ’em.”
“Well if you’re sure.”
Ken thrust a dozen candles into a carrier bag and handed them over, adding a large torch.
“Oh I almost forgot,” he said, bustling away and returning with a brown paper parcel. 
“This arrived for you a few weeks ago, kept meaning to give it to you, then I forgot. I’ll put it in the bag.”
“You’d best get back before the water gets any deeper.”


Jack Lockwood mystery novels:



Coming soon:  JACK LOCKWOOD DIARIES, 21 short stories, see some here now at

All other info on my website

Please support Geoffrey by following him on Facebook and Twitter.

Connect With KJ Waters

When I'm not working on Stealing Time you can find me on my social media at the links below. My novel is out on amazon here.

    I am also the CEO of Blondie's Custom Book Covers, a company that helps authors and publishers create stunning book covers. Please follow our links here.
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