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AA BannerI’m grateful to be a part of ‘All Authors Blog Blitz’, the brainchild of author Y Correa, and am excited to be able to feature New Zealand author K T Bowes, on my blog today.

I have only just recently set up this blog site to promote my books, and am enjoying getting my head around the new technology.  We are lucky to live in an age where we can self-publish our work for others to enjoy.  You can find me on http://www.stevie-turner-author.co.uk/ and I look forward to meeting you.  I write unusual women’s fiction in my spare time, and tend to focus more on the darker side of relationships that tend to get glossed over by mainstream authors.  Here are some links to a couple of my books:

I live in Suffolk, UK, a beautiful part of the world with lots of lovely country footpaths and byways to meander down when you’re seeking inspiration.  I’m married with two children and three grandchildren, and am enjoying being in my fifties much more than I ever thought I would!

 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Porn-Detective-Stevie-Turner-ebook/dp/B00GGXW9VI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1401367897&sr=8-1&keywords=the+porn+detective

The Porn Detective tells of the effect on his marriage of a man’s addiction to pornography.   Frances Andrews, in her unwanted role as a porn detective, slowly discovers a horrifying secret about her husband Martin, the man she thought she knew everything about.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/House-Without-Windows-Stevie-Turner-ebook/dp/B00HUH6R7Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1401367995&sr=8-1&keywords=a+house+without+windows

A House Without Windows is a romance/suspense novel telling of the escape from captivity of Dr Beth Nichols and daughter Amy, and Beth’s efforts to re-build her life; in particular her relationship with her fiancée Dr Liam  Darrah.

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My fifth novel ‘No Sex Please, I’m Menopausal!’ is finished, and chapters are currently with four interested agents.  It is humorous fiction, and tells of the joint mid-life crises of Lyn Fuller and her husband Neil.  When Neil discards Lyn like an old worn out shoe, she moves to Cornwall to start a new life.  Lonely, she joins a dating agency for companionship.  The characters she meets are guaranteed to make you laugh!

 

No Sex Please, I'm Menopausal

 

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My guest author today is K T Bowes, previously from Leicestershire in the UK, but now living in New Zealand.

K T Bowes

‘Demons On Her Shoulder’ by K.T Bowes:

Generic link to the novel: getBook.at/Demonsonhershoulder

demons on her shoulder finished_5 March1 14_edited-1

Book blurb:

From his perch at the top of a pillar in Lincoln Cathedral, the imp watches city life with an air of stony detachment. Tourists peer continually up at his location, desperate to see the city’s unusual carved mascot. To some, he is clearly visible but to others, he will remain an enigma, a demon on the shoulder of a quaint rural town. Jayden Mitchell has a secret, one which threatens to destroy the success of her work within the Lincolnshire Parish of St Jude’s. She is one of the best counsellors that the parish has ever employed to sort out the hidden mess of human frailty within the prosperous inner city congregation, but if anyone was to find out about her past, it would all be over. Someone knows and they have the power to detonate Jayden’s life completely. As the attractive woman holds on tightly to the double life that she has created for herself, struggling against a vicious tide of destruction, a murder at the church complicates matters further and brings her ever more into the spotlight. Jayden’s continued friendship with Raphael Abbadeli, the handsome Italian gym owner, causes Jayden to take stock of her isolated existence and wonder if perhaps she should consider a more complete relationship with the confusing male. But the arrival in town of his equally attractive brother makes her question what it is that she really wants. As life in the rural city spirals quickly out of control, the demons come out to play and press home their advantage, banking on their influence to continue the suppression of Jayden’s former self. They ride on her shoulders mercilessly, Anger, Guilt and Death, clawing their way into her psyche and attempting to keep her prisoner. Yet a higher power is in play, forcing the odds in Jayden’s favour and lining things up so that she has to face her demons once and for all, or be forever trapped. This is a novel of restitution and hope, demonstrating that unique and powerful human ability to build a life from the ashes of destruction, a life without emotional demons.

An important foreword from the Author

When writing this novel, I wondered how to best convey to the reader that the hovering emotions which haunt the psyche of the main character, are actually demonic in nature. I decided to name them by the characteristics they represent, Anger, Guilt and Grief and in so doing, had to capitalise the words which describe them. Therefore when you come across a capitalised emotion, such as Despair, I want you, the reader to imagine an actual creature, latching onto the deep feelings of the character and exacerbating them, in essence making them deliberately much worse. Like any of us who have suffered under the claws of Depression or the cloying misery of Bereavement, it feels like an actual ‘thing’ which has taken hold of us and I wanted to express this in my novel. More than anything, I wanted to convey hope to any reader in the grip of such emotions, that there is release and freedom available and that all you have to do, is ask.

Excerpt from ‘Demons on her Shoulder’ by K T Bowes:

Chapter 1

The clamour of irrepressible sobbing erupted suddenly and without warning. Jayden kept her demure face neutral as the overweight client in front of her crumpled into the swollen armchair like a deflated airbed. The tissues were a fraction to the left of her seat, easily within reach. A jug of cold water condensated quietly on the coffee table next to three robust looking glasses.

Jayden kept very still, not wanting to halt the spell. It had taken weeks to get to this point and she had begun to doubt herself. Long, intensely frustrating hours of pushing the knotty issue around and around in a giant, self-defeating circle which had the potential to go exactly nowhere. The demons sat figuratively on the woman’s shoulder, unseen but unquestionably there and undeniably felt. Grief. Bitterness. Rejection. Sinking in their claws and patting at her shoulder with their filthy, clammy hands. Jayden knew them well. She had those of her own whom she managed periodically to wrestle off and bind, but they invariably returned when she wasn’t looking, or when remembered pain made her forget to close the doors of her heart.

The box of tissues began to slide towards the leaking woman, slowly at first but picking up momentum as sobbing wracked her body and set it almost out of control. Her whole frame shook and wobbled in the chair like an oversize pink blancmange being too roughly carried and Jayden feared that she might pitch out of its depths and onto the floor. The tissues reached the end of the table and became visible to the woman, as she swiped the back of her hand across her sticky nose. Desperation oozed out of every pore as her brokenness became raw and open in all its cancerous horror. The transformation was painful and tragic to watch, but it was well overdue. With shaking manicured hands, she reached out and snatched the uppermost tissue and realising quickly that it wasn’t enough, made a swift grab for another five.

Liquid poured distastefully from every facial orifice, a year’s worth of poisonous anguish leaking out finally from the blonde woman’s pain-encrusted soul and it would not be ceasing anytime soon. From the matching chair next to her, a hairy hand reached out for the water jug and poured a halting stream of icy refreshment into the clean glass nearest to her. A tremor in the stubby fingers made the water slosh slightly as he helpfully held it up to his companion’s face.

The crying ceased instantly. The woman turned her face slowly to the left, snot and tears running like a coloured waterfall down her face, uniting with mascara and foundation wherever it touched. Her movements were slow and the man should have seen it coming. But then he should have seen a lot of things coming and hadn’t. She grasped the glass in her sodden fingers and Jayden’s eyes widened as she read the unveiled emotion in her client’s puffy face. The water cascaded into the man’s eyes, arcing gracefully through the air. It was followed by the glass, which thudded hard into his forehead but surprisingly didn’t smash. As it fell to the floor with a muted thump on the thick pile maroon carpet, the woman leapt nimbly to her feet and began pounding his head, neck, chest and face, dodging his outstretched arms skilfully like a flyweight boxer.

Jayden exhaled and wondered when to break it up. It was not uncommon in a case such as this. There were no other likely weapons within easy reach but it didn’t matter anyway as the woman had begun crying again, slumped over the man who was now pinned to the chair. He was stretching his arms around her wide frame and patting her back gently as though she was a child. Without making a sound, the counsellor got up from her comfy chair and exited the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. She walked confidently to the kitchenette behind the reception desk and began to make hot drinks; a pot of tea for the women and a coffee for him.

While she bashed the tea bags around the inside of the pot with a tea spoon, avoiding the scalding hot water and loaded the tray with sugar, milk and teaspoons, Jayden wondered why she had been so reluctant to ask that appropriately significant question and wished that she had done it weeks ago.

“How did your husband’s affair make you feel?”

 

Biography

I can’t remember ever not writing. My mother taught me to read long before I started primary school and I rocked up there, aged four, already writing full sentences and decorating my stories. I was a nightmare for my very first teacher, who had to put up with my refusal to use ‘baby talk’ which was actually phonetics and copy out single letters endlessly when I would much rather write my stories.

I only began publishing early in 2013, when my first three novels in The Hana Mystery Series were sitting on my hard drive and I realised that if anything actually happened to me, my family wouldn’t have a clue what to do with them. Ten books later and I am onto my eleventh, which is a teen book. All but two of my novels are set in the area of New Zealand where I live, but Demons On Her Shoulder is set in my old home town of Lincoln. Demons began as a simple mystery, set in an ordinary parish church. I absolutely love this ornate and ancient city, with its period houses and vast, chequered history and it was a perfect place in which to stage a novel such as this. I truly hope that I have done its beauty justice. But my story evolved into something far deeper than a mystery, revolving around the character of the guidance counsellor, Jayden, who is as complicated as she is beautiful. She has wrapped the city around herself like a shroud, hiding within its folds and believing that she is safe from an appalling secret in her past. The demons in the story are the destructive emotions which are also present and which I myself have been painfully acquainted with in my own past. It was a cathartic novel to write, even though I hadn’t ever intended it to be.

My own story is as a mother of four children, now almost grown and I have been married to the same lovely man for more than twenty three years. We were engaged and married within five months and of all the impulsive decisions I have made in my life, it was infinitely the best. I have done some stupid things in my forty four years, jumping out of an aeroplane attached to a silly piece of silk and falling off two horses within eighteen months of each other and breaking bones. One of the daftest things I agreed to, was emigrating to New Zealand with four small children, a one way ticket and a suitcase each, but after a few hiccoughs and eight years, it has worked out ok. I am a Christian but my novels deal with the real world and the impact that life can have on believers and non-believers alike. I don’t believe that being preachy in my novels will have any effect other than to turn people off and so I work hard to make sure that I don’t ram my beliefs down other people’s throats. My characters are as real as I can possibly make them, meaning that readers either love, or detest them.

I love writing. It makes me feel satisfied and whole. When I am writing, all is completely well with my world.

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Links.

K. T Bowes’ Amazon Author page: amazon.com/author/ktboweshanadurose
Goodreads page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7212024.K_T_Bowes/blog?format=rss
K.T Bowes’ blog page: http://ktbowes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default

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This blog has been published slightly earlier than the arranged date of 15th June, as I will be going on holiday later on today and will have a limited access to the Internet. I look forward to reading any comments upon my return.

Stevie Turner

 

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