Sunday, July 26, 2020

Sunday's Short Stack: Love in Retrograde by Charlie Cochet


Summary:
Enthusiastic, play-it-safe Kelly Sutton is an American intern at the Photonic Royal Society in New London. He’s been working on Project Mars for over a year, a mission kept so secret by the society even Kelly doesn’t know exactly what it is. What Kelly does know is his contribution to the task will benefit mankind, and that’s enough for him.

Kelly’s world turns upside down when concerns over his mentor's behavior lead Kelly to investigate and stumble upon a wicked truth. What is supposed to be a project to advance human life turns out to be an endeavor capable of mass destruction. The terrifying reality forces Kelly to choose between looking the other way to keep his job, as he’s always done, or risking his career and even his life to do the right thing by saving the man who’s captured his heart.

3rd Re-Read Review July 2020:
Just as good the third time around as the first.  I can't really add anything to my previous reads but I will say that the creativity and world building is absolutely brilliant for a novella.  I mean, it's brilliant for any story but especially a novella where the pages and word count is limited.  Charlie Cochet definitely knows how to set the scene and paint a picture with her words.  I'm always a little saddened that Love in Retrograde is a one-off but then again perhaps that is what makes it so special, adds to the intriguing, interesting uniqueness of Kelly Sutton and Project Mars.

Re-Read Review January 2019:
It has been 2-1/2 years since I first read Love in Retrograde and you know what?  It was even better than I recalled!  Kelly is just as wonderful, although there comes a point where I really wanted to whack him upside the head but you'll have to read Love for yourself to find out why and I'm pretty sure you'll have the same reactionπŸ˜‰.  As for Project Mars . . . I'm still not giving anything away about that one.  Lets just say, Project Mars is more than just a job.  There may not be many secondary characters but each one has a definite purpose that only enhances the story.  Love in Retrograde may be a short novella but it is just full-to-overflowing in entertainment, a true sci-fi gem that is not completely out of the realm of possibility for the future.

Original Review June 2016:
Another novella that surprised me how deeply involved my heart got. I had a little hard time getting into the first chapter but that had more to do with me not ready to let go of the previous book's couple than with Love in Retrograde. By the time I was halfway into chapter two, I was hooked with Kelly Sutton and when he learns the whole truth behind Project Mars, I couldn't put it down. I have only read a few of Charlie Cochet's books but I have her entire Thirds series on my Kindle but haven't got around to it yet but if they are half as good as Love in Retrograde & Between the Devil and the Pacific Blue, they'll be bumped up on my TBR list more than a few notches. It isn't always easy to blend science fiction and romance so warmly and not lose the sci-fi factor, but Miss Cochet has done just that. Kelly and Mars play off each other perfectly all the while being wrapped in sci-fi mojo from beginning to end.

RATING:


Chapter One
KELLY SUTTON still couldn’t believe it.

No matter how many times he walked across St. James’s Park, he still couldn’t believe he was interning at the Photonic Royal Society in New London.

Early in the twenty-first century when the great nations of the world collapsed under the weight of their governments’ greed and economic failings, desperation turned them to the greatest scientific minds of their time. A mass release of both tested and untested technologies was ejected into a world already struggling to keep up with its accelerated pace, and the result was the Photonic Revolution—an oversaturation of biotechnology, nanoelectronics, and ever-growing personal interfaces.

And this was where it all started.

The sleek two-hundred-floor skyscraper of glass and nanoalloy was a testament to a world better united through science and human advancement. On the top floor, Project Mars was undergoing its final tests.

Entering the building through the holographic security doors, Kelly cheerfully waved a greeting to a host of security agents and reception personnel. He made his way to the restricted-access elevator at the end of the expansive marble hall and pressed his hand against the glass panel, his lips spreading into a silly grin when the glass doors slid open. Once inside the elevator, he pressed his hand against yet another reader and stood exceptionally still as the holographic security panel scanned his retina and asked for voice identification, which he promptly gave.

Every morning for the past year he’d stepped into this elevator, and he got a kick out of it each time without fail. The thought alone of where it was taking him had him so excited he didn’t even need coffee to keep him wired. Not that he’d given it up. He wasn’t completely crazy.

Thanks to his hard work, he’d been one of the few foreign interns to become part of Project Mars, a top-secret project. He was like a kid who’d been invited to play with all the shiny new toys in the toy store and get paid ridiculous amounts of credit for it. It was a shame he couldn’t tell anyone about it. Not that he had all that many people to tell. A year living in New London, and his closest acquaintances were the nanobots he spliced and diced on a daily basis and his lab partner. At some point he should really consider taking the time to make some friends.

After reaching the Biotech and Biomechanics Research Wing at the front of the two hundredth floor, he headed straight for the interns’ and assistants’ locker room. One day soon he’d be putting away his bag in his very own lab. He was hanging up his suit jacket when he heard it.

“Kelly!”

The cheerful squeal made him smile, and he turned in time to get poked in the belly by Pepper.

“Someone’s happy this morning,” he said with a laugh, giving the petite blonde’s hand a playful smack away from him. Pepper started working on Project Mars two years before Kelly joined the team, and then Kelly had been partnered with her for initial training. They’d quickly become close after she covered for him on his first day when he’d been so nervous he’d caused one of his experiments to spontaneously combust. Quite a feat even for him, considering there had been no combustible substances in it. He was still trying to figure that one out.

“So what’s got you so excited?” Kelly asked, slipping into his lab coat. He tapped at his breast pocket, turning on his holographic ID.

Her big blue eyes shone with excitement. “After all our hard work, we’re finally going to see the end results.” She clapped her hands gleefully and followed him out into the hall toward the lab headed by Dr. Lucius Bryant, the lead scientist for the Biotech and Biomechanics Research Wing .

Kelly wanted to believe Pepper, but the fact remained that as an intern—even one already guaranteed a position—he wasn’t privy to the kind of information Lucius or even Pepper was privy to. Kelly had worked his way up from performing countless inventory checks to researching anomalies, administering microinjections, and taking charge of several other important duties. Each had been assigned without so much as a hint to its purpose, only that it was directly related to Project Mars. Granted, the project was top secret, but Kelly hadn’t expected it to be so secret even he wouldn’t be told about it.

At the end of the hall was a steel door, and somewhere beyond that door was the Biotech Wing, where Project Mars was located. Every day a good deal of commotion and chaos seemed to emanate from behind that door, with it sliding open only for the briefest of moments. Today, as Kelly took a seat at his workstation and tapped on the glass surface to wake up his interface, it appeared things were no different.

A thunderous boom nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. His head shot up in time to watch a chair soar past the lab and down the hall, where it inevitably ended its journey by smashing into something expensive. This was the third time in four days. One would think they’d stop replacing whatever had been fated to relive a constant state of destruction.

Just as the chair left the wing in a hurry, so did two security agents. They landed in front of the lab and managed to gain control over their limbs long enough to scramble to their feet and limp quickly away. No matter how many times Kelly witnessed it, his jaw still became unhinged. He swiveled in his chair, further unsettled by the fact that, yet again, no one in the lab seemed to have noticed. Lucius tapped away at the glowing holographic information before him, preoccupied with an inventory check of that morning’s delivery. The man paused long enough to nudge his silver-rimmed spectacles up his nose.

Kelly gaped at him. “Did you see that?”

“How many times have I warned those lads?” Lucius glanced over the rim of his glasses at Pepper. “How many?”

“This week?” She placed a dainty finger to her rose-colored lips, her T-bar shoes tapping thoughtfully against her chair. “This would make one hundred and thirty-nine.”

“So we’re just ignoring it. Again.” No reply tended to mean Kelly had either asked a stupid question that didn’t warrant Lucius’s waste of breath, or it was yet another piece of information Kelly didn’t need to know. Dr. Lucius Bryant was in his late forties, possessing unruly brown hair interspersed with gray, a permanent five-o’clock shadow, and an impressive deadpan expression. Everything he said was in the same tone. Most of the time it wasn’t until Lucius was near the end of his reply that Kelly realized the man was being sarcastic.

Kelly donned his best English accent in an attempt to mimic Lucius’s posh tone. “It’s perfectly all right, Kelly.” He patted his own shoulder in assurance. “Nothing to worry yourself over. Just another day at the lab.” Kelly turned back to his station, ignoring Pepper’s amused chuckle and Lucius rolling his eyes at him.

“Have you finished that report? Dr. Skye’s expecting it to be done by this afternoon.”

Kelly swiveled in his chair to face Lucius. “Yeah, about that. I recorded all my findings, but I’m concerned by the anomalies I discovered in the nanocells under section MNB-Scan2308. If I could have a day to work through them, I—”

“No.” Lucius raised his head, his disapproving frown once again dashing Kelly’s enthusiasm at the chance of getting to dig deeper into the research and the strange surge of recent anomalies. “Your job is to report your findings, not analyze them.”

“I know, but—”

“Unless you want to go back to inventory checks, you’ll submit your report and move on to your next assignment.”

Kelly bit his tongue. Why was it every time he had the chance to do something important, Lucius pulled the rug out from under him? Lucius was Kelly’s mentor. Shouldn’t he be mentoring?

Reluctantly, Kelly gave Lucius a nod and resumed his work. Another long afternoon of mindless data transfer. This sucked. He was part of the Photonic Royal Society. The most prestigious and exhilarating place for a scientist to be. Why was Lucius treating him like he didn’t know his ass from his elbow?

“I know you think I’m being an unreasonable arse, but….” Lucius came to stand beside Kelly, his troubled expression unexpected. “Trust me. It’s for your protection.”

Before Kelly could ask what he meant, Lucius walked out of the lab.

“Don’t take it personally,” Pepper said with a sympathetic smile. “Lucius has his reasons for everything he does.”

“For my protection? Protection from what? Advancing my career? Securing my new position as an esteemed scientist and upcoming talent rather than a nameless drone destined to remain at the bottom of the food chain for the rest of my career?” Kelly pressed his lips together before he said anything he’d regret. “Six months ago, he was teaching me how to look beyond what was in front of me, to dissect and deconstruct information, and now that I am, he’s shutting me out. I just don’t get it.” He leaned into Pepper, his voice quiet. “You’re his assistant. Have I done something to piss him off? Did I do something wrong?”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “To be honest, he hasn’t brought you up at all.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Kelly couldn’t tell anymore. Then again, Lucius was a tough guy to read at the best of times. It was still beyond Kelly’s capabilities to know whether the man was being serious or not.

Pepper’s smile was apologetic. “I wish I could help.”

“Thanks anyway.” A thought occurred to him. “Today’s Thursday. Lucius works late in his office on Thursdays, right?”

“Yes.” Pepper’s eyes widened. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. Lucius will have your security clearance if you disturb him. Thursday evenings are incredibly critical for him, and whatever he’s working on is exceptionally confidential.”

“Got it.”

Kelly didn’t want to worry Pepper, though she didn’t look all that convinced by his reply. Regardless, she went back to her station.

Kelly had no intention of disturbing Lucius’s important work tonight. He’d try and catch Lucius before he locked himself in his office and ask him a couple of questions. Just a few minutes of the man’s time. Nothing more. It’d be fine.

Author Bio:
Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.

Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.


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EMAIL: charlie@charliecochet.com 




Saturday, July 25, 2020

Saturday's Series Spotlight: Cambridge Fellows Mysteries by Charlie Cochrane Part 6



Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune #12.8
Summary:
Orlando Coppersmith is called in to solve not one but two problems: a suspected murder and a mysterious violin. So why is he reluctant to take the case - is it because it came from the warden of his old college? Once more, it's up to Jonty Stewart to get his partner through the challenge and employ their own, unique, way to finding a solution.

Lessons in Following a Poisonous Trail #12.9
Summary:
Somebody appears to be lacing certain Cambridge dons' food with laxatives. When they appear to have turned to stronger poison Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith get on the trail. Only Jonty's laid up in sick bay with a rugby injury so he'll have to wait for the clues to come to him...

Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune #12.8
Original Review September 2019:
Complete and total awesomeness!  I love Jonty and Orlando so when I saw there was to be another new Cambridge Fellows Mysteries I was all kinds of "YAY-ING" and "WOW-ING".  Seriously, I could read these guys forever.  Some series can become repetitive and past their prime but not these boys, whether its a 2-page holiday coda or a 400-page novel they just keep getting better and long as they decide to fill the author in on their cases and adventures I'll be reading them.

As for Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune, the boys have two mysteries to solve at the same location, Orlando's old school.  As usual there's more than a few twists and turns that I won't even begin to delve into so not to spoil this lovely novella but let me just say that my suspicions , though not completely accurate, I was guessing and second-guessing myself all the way to the reveal.  For me a mystery is great even if you figure it out and yet leaves you constantly going "Could it be. . . ", "Maybe it's . . .", and "I think its . . . but then again . . ." because when there is a level of uncertainty no matter how obvious it may seem that's when you know an author has pulled you in so deep that there is no possible way you can put it down.  Just another reason why Charlie Cochrane is on my very short list of "Authors-I-1-click-even-without-reading-the-blurb" list.

Let's take a minute to talk Jonty and Orlando.  How great are these two boys?  They are superb, the chemistry is off the charts and I know for some the mostly off-the-page heat would be a minus in their mind but for me the way the author tackles them "doing their duty"(Jonty and Orlando's phrasing) with little to no graphic detail makes the chemistry even stronger.  Their banter and bickering is as humorous and lovely as ever, leaving no doubts whatsoever just how much they love each other.

Now for those who are new to the Cambridge Fellows Mysteries and are wondering about reading order, I recommend checking out the author's website for a chronological list which is not necessarily the same as the release order.  Each entry is a story in itself with it's own mystery so there is no real "must read in order" but personally, I would highly recommend reading at least the first three original novels(Lessons in LoveLessons in Desire, and Lessons in Discovery) to fully appreciate the chemistry and hard fought connection between Jonty and Orlando as well as their family and friends.  Trust me once you read Lessons in Love you'll be sucked into the series and the world of Cambridge Fellows that you will want to read them all.

Lessons in Following a Poisonous Trail #12.9
Original Review May 2020:
I've said it before and I'll say it again, whether the author writes 100 full length novels or only one 2-page holiday coda, I will always be on board and it will never be enough.  Jonty and Orlando are quite possibly my favorite fictional sleuthing duo, and trust me I read a lot of mysteries and I have a long list of favesπŸ˜‰.

This time around, has a nasty prank led to dire unforeseen consequences or well thought out mayhem?  You know my answer to that is to read for yourself and as this is mystery novella entry in the series I'll be spoiling even lessπŸ˜‰.  Trust me, if you love Jonty and Orlando than you already know this is a fantastic gem and if you've never read Cambridge Fellows Mysteries before, you need to.

As for Jonty and Orlando themselves, I think Poisonous Trail actually conveys how much they mean to each other more than almost any of the other entries.  Considering they spend so much of the story apart that seems like an odd thing for me to say but as the old adage goes, "absence makes the heart grow fonder", not being able to bounce ideas off each other instantly they each come to appreciate the other that much more.  Don't get me wrong, there was never any doubt how they felt for one another it's just you get the idea that they maybe took their proximity for granted and with Jonty in the sick ward on campus that proximity is not there at the moment.

Talking about Jonty, Orlando, and their "proximity", if you've been a fan of the series then you already know most of the heat is off page.  Now, some prefer to "see" the hot-and-heavy, Lord knows I'm no prude but sometimes it's nice to have the story concentrate more on the mystery and the relationship leaving the heat to the imagination.  Personally, when done right I think off-page can strengthen the readers' bond with the characters because the author has to convey the romance more deeply.  Just another reason why I love this series so much.  I should add that I really loved seeing Dr. Panesar get to scratch his sleuthing itch this time around, he's not one to often aid them in their cases so I think it adds to the boys finding themselves in unwanted territory of Jonty not being able to "pound the pavement" as it were in regards to doing the leg work.

Cambridge Fellows is a historical mystery series which I know isn't everyone's cup of tea. As a history buff I really appreciate the author's obvious respect for the era with her attention to detail, from phrases to clothing to regulations and everything in between.  Just because the details are there if you are one who shies away from the genre because they don't want to read a school lesson, don't worry the author never lets the details get so heavy that they screw with the reading experience.

One last thing: if you are new to the series and wondering about reading order because I believe Poisonous Trail is the 17th published work, I highly recommend checking out the chronological timeline on the author's website because some stories "go back and fill in".  Would you be lost if you read them willy-nilly?  No.  As each entry is a new mystery, you could make a case of them being standalones but as it's also a journey of Jonty and Orlando's relationship, there is a certain level of growth in each one so I highly recommend reading them chronologically if you can but it's not a must.

RATING:


Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune #12.8
“The police believe the sudden death of Peter Denison was due to heart failure, and there had been no need of an inquest. An outcome which Professor Lewis-Duckworth refuses to accept, believing that diagnosis covers a multitude of sins and might actually mean that the doctor doesn’t know what killed him and doesn’t want to admit the fact.”

“Professor Lewis-Duckworth?”

“Warden of Gabriel. Equivalent to the master of St. Bride’s. Not a bad chap if rumour is to be believed. Better than the bad tempered anti-social curmudgeon who was warden in my day.”

Jonty hid his smile behind his tea cup. That would have meant two bad tempered anti-social curmudgeons at Gabriel back then.

Orlando continued. “The chap who died was a retired musician. In his day he’d been a virtuoso—quite famous in musical circles—but he’d been stricken with arthritis that had come on so swiftly and severely that he’d had to give up playing.”

“That’s sad. Did the warden include all these facts in his letter?”

“Some of them. He also enclosed a selection of cuttings from the local newspapers. I can show them to you later, if I—we—choose to accept the request for help.”

Back to the uncertainty. Jonty took a deep breath. “I think it would be very hard to turn down such an appeal, Orlando. I know that’s not the answer you wish to hear, but what reason could you give that would be believable? We’re right at the start of the long vac, so no great college or university commitments to constrain us and if we pretended we were about to go on holiday, we’d be sure to be found out. You know how gossip, academic or otherwise, gets about.”

Orlando nodded. “I know that. I realise I’m being stupid and I should snatch this case up readily, because I can also imagine your mother taking me by the arm, walking me round the garden at the Old Manor and telling me that were I to have a triumph it would overlay my memories of Oxford with a layer of triumph.” He cast his eyes down. “But I’m scared.”

“Oh, Orlando.” Jonty left his seat, took his lover by the hand and—just as he’d done in the study, earlier—eased him out of his seat. Only this time he took the man into a warm embrace. “I’m not going to tell you not to be scared, that you’re fretting for nothing as all will be well, because that’s just stupid. I will say that if you’re inclined to be brave then I’m here at your side and will be in Oxford. As you’ve been at my side all the times I’ve been scared or upset because the old memories have bubbled up again. And before you start apologising for having started off a train of thought towards that particularly unpleasant station, don’t. I’m enjoying being the strong one.” He couldn’t resist a chuckle. “And from the way your body’s reacting, you’re enjoying this cuddle. Such a shame that it would scandalise Mrs. Ward if we went back to bed.”

“You’re insatiable.” Orlando kissed the top of Jonty’s head then eased out of the embrace. “If that was me being told off, it was one of the more agreeable chastening experiences.”

Lessons in Following a Poisonous Trail #12.9
A bright afternoon, with a gentle breeze. St Bride’s rugby pitch, the home team turning out against St Thomas’s college. A tight game, hard fought. Jonty, arms raised to charge down a drop kick from the opposition, stumbled over a churned-up piece of turf, found himself diving headlong towards a boot and took evasive action. It wasn’t his best decision.

*******

“What are you?” Orlando Coppersmith frowned so hard that his entire forehead resembled a linen shirt that had just been wrung.

“Well, to give me my full title, I’m the Kildare Fellow in Tudor Literature.” Jonty Stewart put on a brave front but he knew that he would not stand a cross-examination. Especially when he was at the disadvantage of lying on a bed in the St. Bride’s college sickbay with the twin intimidations of his lover’s scowling presence in the room and the college nurse outside the door, cleaving her prow-bosomed way en route to the rest of her charges.

“I don’t refer to your paid employment, Dr Stewart, I allude to your conduct today. The conduct that brought you here.”

Jonty sighed. “I know. I’m an idiot.”

Orlando’s mouth almost tweaked into a smile but he managed to restrain it. “I would have thought the Kildare Fellow would have been able to produce an adjective to go with the noun.” He sat back in the little wooden chair provided for visitors, his arms folded, awaiting the answer.

“I’m a complete and utter idiot.”

“That’s nearer the truth. I can think of a few more terms but I’ll excuse you them. Given your condition.”

“I thank you for such small mercies.” Jonty changed position, easing his leg. Only a patchwork quilt covered his lower regions, hiding the fact that he wore neither shoes nor socks or indeed anything below the waist. Not that he’d been wearing trousers when the mishap had happened. His right calf had been bandaged up to within an inch of its life after his rugby shorts had been cut off him quite mercilessly by Orlando and the nurse, who had decided that, despite being baggy, they’d never come off in the normal way without causing more pain and damage.

Jonty suspected that Orlando would have been happy to suggest that was exactly what they should do to teach him a lesson. He had huffed and puffed and complained all the way through the process, probably to cover up the fact that he was worried. Jonty could only hope he’d enjoyed it just a little bit. Getting their hands on each other’s flesh was usually a treat without comparison and one unlikely to be repeated any time soon, given the state of Jonty’s leg.

Mercy had eventually triumphed over justice, so now he had been made comfortable, propped up with pillows to await the arrival of the doctor.

“I bet you’re enjoying this.” Orlando had risen, to stare out of the small window across the college rooftops. “Being borne on a stretcher from the rugby pitch, into an invalid carriage and through St. Bride’s, like Queen Victoria in her pomp. Now having the prospect of being waited on hand and foot, with everyone fussing round you.”

“That may appeal, but my leg hurts like billy-oh.” Jonty carefully smoothed over the quilt, which was said to be the product of Ariadne Sheridan’s fair hands. Back in the days she’d been Ariadne Peters and the chatelaine of the master’s lodge at the side of her brother, she’d crafted a series of beautiful covers for the sick bay. To provide, she’d said, a little touch of home comfort for the students—or fellows—who found themselves ensconced there.

“One might say it served you right to be suffering.” Orlando, still in his muddy rugger jersey, kept his gaze fixed outside, possibly afraid that if he contemplated Jonty’s stricken frame his mood might soften. “What exactly did you do on that pitch?”

“I scored one magnificent try and made another. Both of the kicks beautifully taken by—”

“No Jonty. That wasn’t the question. What did you do to get yourself laid up like this?”

“Ah. Yes. Well.” The dreaded question to which the questioner knew the answer and was using it to make the recipient squirm. Jonty took a deep breath. “Well, I started to charge down this drop kick and then I saw a boot coming straight for my face. At which point I thought Mama wouldn’t want to see her lovely boy disfigured so I twisted out of the way and…” He tailed off. The rest must have been obvious at the time, from the awful way his leg had gone awry as he hit the ground to the howl of pain that he had given. He was sure he’d heard a breaking noise, as well, but perhaps best not to mention that at present. “It was better that my leg copped it, surely, rather than me lose my good looks?”


πŸ‘¬πŸ’™πŸ”ͺπŸ’•πŸ”«πŸ’™πŸ‘¬

If the men of St. Bride’s College knew what Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith got up to behind closed doors, the scandal would rock early-20th-century Cambridge to its core. But the truth is, when they’re not busy teaching literature and mathematics, the most daring thing about them isn’t their love for each other—it’s their hobby of amateur sleuthing.

Because wherever Jonty and Orlando go, trouble seems to find them. Sunny, genial Jonty and prickly, taciturn Orlando may seem like opposites. But their balance serves them well as they sift through clues to crimes, and sort through their own emotions to grow closer. But at the end of the day, they always find the truth . . . and their way home together.

********

Be sure and check the author's website for a complete chronological list of novels, novellas, free short stories in the Cambridge Fellows Mysteries Universe.

πŸ‘¬πŸ’™πŸ”ͺπŸ’•πŸ”«πŸ’™πŸ‘¬

Cambridge Fellows Mysteries


Author Bio:
As Charlie Cochrane couldn't be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice - like managing a rugby team - she writes. Her favourite genre is gay fiction, predominantly historical romances/mysteries, but she's making an increasing number of forays into the modern day. She's even been known to write about gay werewolves - albeit highly respectable ones.

Her Cambridge Fellows series of Edwardian romantic mysteries were instrumental in seeing her named Speak Its Name Author of the Year 2009. She’s a member of both the Romantic Novelists’ Association and International Thriller Writers Inc.

Happily married, with a house full of daughters, Charlie tries to juggle writing with the rest of a busy life. She loves reading, theatre, good food and watching sport. Her ideal day would be a morning walking along a beach, an afternoon spent watching rugby and a church service in the evening.


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Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune #12.8

Lessons in Following a Poisonous Trail #12.9

Series

Friday, July 24, 2020

πŸ“˜πŸŽ₯Friday's Film AdaptationπŸŽ₯πŸ“˜: Rhubarb by H Allen Smith


Summary:
A riotous, bawdy, and often slapstick story about a large yellow cat who, according to numerous complaints, had been assaulting dogs, stealing tennis balls, stalking mailmen, and attacking Macy's trucks.

An eccentric millionaire who loathes all canines, is struck with admiration for any cat with the guts to go out and avenge his entire race and decides to adopt him.

Thaddeus Whitcomb Banner (the dog-hating millionaire), charmed by the cat's pugnacious attitude, calls his new pet, Rhubarb, a baseball term for a violent and noisy altercation. Rhubarb takes a liking to Thad and his press secretary Eric Yaeger, but he is indifferent if not downright vicious to everyone else. When his owner dies only forty-eight hours after signing his last will and testament, Rhubarb is there, sitting in his master's lap.

In his will, Thad praises Rhubarb for his unsparing love and solace and thereby leaves him his entire fortune, including ownership of a professional baseball team, the New York Loons. Eric Yaeger is appointed Rhubarb's guardian, and Thad's daughter Myra, a mean-spirited young hipster doofus, is summarily disinherited.

Although initially reluctant to play baseball for a team owned by a cat, Loons players are tricked into believing that Rhubarb is a good luck charm and subsequently begin winning games. Meanwhile, Myra, not about to let a cat get away with her millions, begins a lawsuit to have the will invalidated, while her lawyer is part of a scheme to have Rhubarb murdered by a woman who has a mysterious connection to Myra. As for Eric, Rhubarb's frantic guardian -- well, Eric faces challenges only a fierce and concupiscent kitty cat can provide.

Post WW2 American comedies offered escapist entertainment for Depression-era audiences and were largely characterized by zany, fast-paced and unusual events, gags, screwy plot twists, barbs aimed at the leisure-upper class, verbal dueling and witty sarcastic dialogue -- Rhubarb is all that.


Introduction to a Cat
On a morning in late December two years before the events about to be related in this book, a radio actress, by name Rebecca Ross, left her apartment in the community of Jackson Heights on Long Island. Miss Ross was but newly come to Jackson Heights else she would have turned left instead of right when she emerged from the building where she made her home, for she was accompanied by a dog. She would have known.

It was not a fit morning to be strolling the streets with or without a dog, for a cold and copious rain was falling straight downward, California fashion; yet neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night could ever stay Miss Rebecca Ross from the swift completion of her appointed rounds with Mitzi.

Actress and dog were attached by leash as they moved northward in the rain, and there are people in this world who might have concluded that they made a pretty picture together. They wore matching costumes. The dog had on a green dog slicker with a cowl that hooked over her ears, and each paw was encased in green rubber booties. Miss Rebecca Ross wore a green raincoat, green galoshes, a small green hat, and carried a green umbrella. Before long her face would match her costume.

Miss Ross was by no means a prominent actress. Such small reputation as she owned in radio derived from her frequently repeated role as an off-mike scream. ‘She was a large, chesty woman and she had perfected a feminine shriek of horror which created a demand for her services on radio murder programs wherein a lady is present when the victim's body is discovered. This profession furnished a small but adequate livelihood and made it possible for Miss Ross to buy matching food and clothing for herself and Mitzi.

The two females, dog and woman, were stepping along beside a hedge which bordered a six-hole golf course when the cat showed himself. He came from behind the hedge and he was walking in a peculiar sort of crouch. He was a rangy, muscular cat the color of yellow smoke.

There was no hint of alarm in Miss Rebecca Ross's voice when she first addressed the cat; her voice, in fact, was admonitory, commanding.

"Scat!" she said.

The injunction had no perceptible effect. The cat never faltered in his stalking approach and he was headed straight for Mitzi. The dog barked.

The cat continued his advance, and Miss Ross, still unable to believe that one of Nature's lesser laws was being flouted in her very face, noted a peculiar anatomical deformity at the creature's stern. The long yellow tail looked as if a door might have been slammed on it, shaping it in the manner of a sharp jog in a road. And in the area of this double bend the tail was now jerking in a mechanical sort of rhythm like a gadget in the Museum of Science and Industry.

"Scat!" cried the actress again. "Scat the hell outa here, you yella devil!"

Mitzi was not a large dog nor a courageous one, yet some atavistic impulse called for a show of bravery. She barked quite ferociously four or five times and lunged in the direction of the oncoming cat, rearing up on her hind legs as the leash tightened.

Things happened so swiftly, so unexpectedly, that Mitzi's mistress was never able thereafter to give an altogether coherent account of them. Just as Mitzi reached her defiantly rampant posture the cat appeared to take leave of its senses. A horrible, leering grimace flashed across his yellow face, and his eyes seemed to take fire. All dash and derring-do left Mitzi. She shuddered all over and closed her eyes as a yellow horror streaked through the falling rain. The cat leaped with forelegs spread wide, simultaneously emitting a spine-chilling screech, and then the fur and green rubber flew.

It is possible that people as far off as Bliss Street, Sunnyside, heard the deep-bosomed screams of Miss Rebecca Ross, not to mention the hellish noises contrived by the animals, but the cyclonic assault was over before any kind of succor could possibly reach the actress. Mitzi lay senseless and bleeding on the pavement, her lovely green tunic in shreds, three of her booties ripped from her dainty feet. Chunks of hair had been gouged from her back and neck, and the veterinarian found incisions across her face and down her barrel that looked as if they had been made by a buzz saw. The yellow cat was gone.

Her mistress . . . Well, let it be said to her credit that she did not faint during the awful assault. By the time she was able to talk she made an effort to describe events as they had actually occurred. An ordinary cat, she said, an ordinary alley cat, though bigger than most, with a big head and a crooked tail. Her story was altogether credible in Jackson Heights, but in Manhattan people simply would not believe her.

Mitzi never really got over it. For this she is not to be blamed. No dog with fair sense would ever have got over it. Few dogs ever did.


Rich, eccentric T.J. Banner adopts a feral cat who becomes an affectionate pet. Then T.J. dies, leaving to Rhubarb most of his money and a pro baseball team, the Brooklyn Loons. When the team protests, publicist Eric Yeager convinces them Rhubarb is good luck. But Eric's fiancΓ©e Polly seems to be allergic to cats, and the team's success may mean new hazards for Rhubarb.

Release Date: August 29, 1951
Running Time: 94 minutes

Cast:
Orangey as Rhubarb
Ray Milland as Eric Yeager
Jan Sterling as Polly Sickles
William Frawley as Len Sickles
Gene Lockhart as T.J. Banner
Elsie Holmes as Myra Banner
Taylor Holmes as P. Duncan Munk
Willard Waterman as Orlando Dill
Henry Slate as Dud Logan
James Griffith as Ogelthorpe 'Oggie' Meadows
Jim Hayward as Doom
Donald MacBride as Pheeny
Hal K. Dawson as Mr. Fisher
Strother Martin and Leonard Nimoy(uncredited)

Awards:
Orangey won PATSY Awards (Picture Animal Top Star of the Year, the animal version of an Oscar) for his appearances in both Rhubarb and Breakfast at Tiffany's, the only cat so far to win more than once.


Eric Yeager: How about some bait?
Owner of the pet shop: I'm sorry sir, we have no meat department.
Eric Yeager: Meat? Golf balls is this cat's meat.
*****
Judge: [to Polly Sickles] You're sneezing under oath. An untrue sneeze could find you guilty of perjury.

Author Bio:
H. Allen Smith was born on December 19, 1907 in McLeansboro, Illinois, USA. He was a writer and actor, known for Rhubarb (1951), Playhouse 90 (1956) and Low Man on a Totem Pole (1964). He died on February 24, 1976 in San Francisco, California, USA.

“On Monday mornings I am dedicated to the proposition that all men are created jerks.” ― H. Allen Smith


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Thursday, July 23, 2020

Review Tour: Sugar and Ice by RJ Scott & VL Locey

Title: Sugar and Ice
Authors: RJ Scott & VL Locey
Series: Arizona Raptors #4
Genre: M/M Romance, Hockey Romance
Release Blitz: July 12, 2020
Cover Design: Meredith Russell

Summary:
When love is on the line, the worst decisions can end up having the best endings.

Tate Collins, an all-American hockey phenomenon, was the highly marketable face of Dallas hockey. Loaded down with endorsements and playing his best game, he was a superstar and a household name. No one ever expected him to fail, but overnight, after the worst decision of his life, everything spirals out of his control. Abruptly, his reputation is in tatters, and he’s traded to the Arizona Raptors in a shocking move. Brushing off the wild and unfounded accusations that he faces on social media, and stuck on the second line, he keeps his head down and works hard to earn his spot. Tate knows he can make a difference if only his teammates would let him. Something has to change for him to earn their respect, but falling for the captain might not be his best move.

Vladislav Novikov has been called many things over his long and illustrious career, but the new nickname of Iceberg seems to fit best. Perhaps it’s due to his icy blue eyes, or the way he rams into opposing players as he defends his goalie. Or maybe it’s because of his cool demeanor when not playing the game he loves. Whatever the reason, it’s why he’s the perfect team captain for this wild bunch of puck-pushers. His perfectly controlled life is smooth as ice until Tate Collins rides into Tucson with his apple pie ways and those damn dimples. The young superstar immediately catches his eye. Despite knowing better than to start something with a teammate, the big, bad Iceberg is about to have that chilly veneer around his heart melted away by Tate one sweet kiss at a time.


HOLY HANNAH BATMAN! and THE FROCE IS STRONG WITH MASTERS SCOTT & LOCEY!(Even more so in Sugar and Ice as one of the MCs is an adorable Star Wars collecting geek like myself - a definite plus in my book when it comes to character quirks).

I've said it before and I'll say it again, when reading a multi-couple series I always(98%) fall head over heels for the original pairing that no matter how much I enjoy those to follow, they never quite top the first.  Well Arizona Raptors is no different but each entry's couple definitely gives Mark and Rowen(Coast to Coast) a run for their money and Tate and Vlad are right up there running neck and neck.  Before anyone who has read the authors' Railers series finds themselves comparing Tate and Vlad to Erik and Stan, don't.  Sure they both play hockey, they both play for the same team, one is Russian one is not but despite some of these similar elements, Tate and Vlad are very much their own people, their own couple, and S&I is their own journey.

There were times where I wanted to smother both men in Mama Bear Hugs and there were quite possibly just as many times I simply wanted to smother them.   Now this is a point I mention often, that isn't because I've run out of things to say but because it's become almost a measuring stick for me to how suited the characters are for each other.  If they can both raise those contradictory emotions within me than there is hope for them, their journey, and the storytelling.

As to Tate and Vlad, there is just so much I could say but won'tπŸ˜‰.  Tate being a Star Wars geek like myself was a plus, I mean a cat named Obi, how delicious is that?  I wanted him to get his HEA from page one.  Vlad?  Well he took a few chapters to grow on me but once he did I knew I wanted to see him nothing but happy.  I'll admit, I'm not sure why, it took about 2/3 of the book before I started reading Vlad's dialogue in a Russian accent in my head.  It didn't even dawn on me that I wasn't "hearing" him in Russian until all of a sudden I did, I tried asking myself "why?" but couldn't come up with anything specific, it just was.  However you hear his voice, the character is fun and together they have the makings of a lasting love.

Sugar and Ice is a brilliant blend of hockey, romance, friendship, heat, humor, passion, with just the right mix of drama to create a great read that doesn't disappoint from beginning to end.  Certainly worthy of the Arizona Raptors moniker and the whole hockey universe Scott & Locey started way back in Changing Lines, Harrisburg Railers #1.

RATING:


Saturday's Series Spotlight
Arizona Raptors

Harrisburg Railers
Part 1  /  Part 2  / Part 3

Owatonna U







RJ Scott
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.

RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below.

VL Locey
USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.


RJ Scott
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πŸ‘€Scott & Locey are removing their hockey series' from KU but at a staggered timeline so be sure to check the authors' website for wide seller updatesπŸ‘€
Sugar and Ice #4
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Series
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Harrisburg Series
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Owatonna U Trilogy
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