eBook Promos

BOOKBUB RESULTS

I took out a BookBub ad for Death Line #3 in my Rafferty and Llewellyn procedural series on 9 March 2014.

DEATH LINE AMAZON ECOVR FROM SELFPUBBOOKCOVERS New

I also entered it in Amazon’s Select programme and had four free days from 7 – 10 March 2014.

I chose to go with the free book option in the Mystery Category  (or, rather, my finances chose this option as the only one viable!).

Here’s the screenshot for 9 March, the day of my best ranking on amazon.com:

As you can see, Death Line reached a ranking of 2 Free Overall.

No 1 in Police Procedurals.

No 1 in British Detectives.

BESTSELLERS_AMZN_US_2_FREE_OVERALL_NO_1_POLICE_PROCEDURALS_NO_1_BRIT_TECS_2014-03-09_2247

There was an all-country total download of 46,882, with the US responsible for nearly all of it.

Here’s the country by country Amazon breakdown mid-morning on 11 March, one day after my freebie offer finished and two days after the BookBub ad:

I’ve made a few edits to make allowance for my woeful maths and general brain fatigue! I had originally mistakenly listed the paid sales as just for the book that was the subject of the Bookbub ad, when in fact it was for all books. Mea Culpa.

DEATH LINE FREE SALES ON 11 MARCH 2014 AFTER BOOKBUB AD ON 9 MAR 2014

COUNTRY                    FREE DOWNLOADS

AU                                             41

BR                                               2

CA                                            202

CO                                            495

COM                                     45,931 +1 BORROW

DE                                             152

ES                                                 5

FR                                                 6

IN                                                35

IT                                                   6

JP                                                   4

MX                                                 2

_____________________________________________________

TOTAL FREE DOWNLOADS  46,882

____________________________________________________

TOTAL PAID SALES ALL BOOKS BY 11 MARCH 2014:   472

THIS TOTAL COMPARES WITH AN ALL BOOKS PAID SALES RATE OF 272 (including 3 borrows) BY THE SAME DATE IN THE PREVIOUS MONTH.

This worked out as a Total Daily Sales Rate for all books of 42.90 on 11 March compared to a Total Daily Sales Rate of 24.72 on 11 February 2014. The Predicted Monthly Sales Rates were 1,330, compared to a Predicted Monthly Sales Rate of 766.54 and an actual February Sales Rate of 630 (I’ve had to pretend in the predicted figure that February had 31 days instead of only 28 to give a proper comparison).

In addition, the sales of the first and second in the series greatly increased and at mid-morning on 11 March had sales for the US totalling 152 for the first and 94 for the second in the series. Prior to the Bookbub ad sales for these two books were 11 and 8 respectively at 23.30 GMT on 7 March. Just over one a day.

So that would make the comparative Daily Sales of these books:

Dead Before Morning 13.81 on 11 March and only 1.57 on 7 March

Down Among the Dead Men 8.54 on 11 March and only 1.14 on 7 March.

I also made my very first sales of any sort to Brazil and Mexico and had only my second ever Japanese downloads.

Admittedly, we’re not dealing in enormous numbers of sales here; no J K Rowling, me! But the BB ad shifted an awful lot more books. I’m sure you’re able to work out what the percentage increase is (if you do, can you share? Never quite got to grips with percentages).

So, is a Bookbub ad worth it? Yes!

WHY I DECIDED TO GIVE MY BOOK AWAY FOR FREE

Why free? Because you get reviews (good, bad, indifferent). And reviews sell books. That’s what we all hope, anyway!

 If you would like a FREE copy of DEATH DUES #11 in the Rafferty and Llewellyn procedural series (more cozy than noir), in exchange for an honest review, check out my StoryCartel Book Page:

http://storycartel.com/books/881/death-dues-11-in-the-rafferty-and-llewellyn-procedural-series/

DEATH DUES

REVIEW ‘Lively and fun, with absorbing interplay between DI Joe Rafferty and sidekick Sgt Llewellyn. Replete with strong protagonists, infused with British atmosphere, and filled with intrigue and personal concerns alike, Death Dues is a fine detective saga.’ D DONOVAN, eBOOK REVIEWER, MIDWEST BOOK REVIEW http://www.midwestbookreview.com/mbw/jan_14.htm#donovan

 GEvans_DeathDues (2)

BLURB

When one John ‘Jaws’ Harrison is found with his skull caved in, in an alleyway backing on to rundown Primrose Avenue while on his way to collect debt repayments from the residents, Rafferty and his intellectual partner, Sergeant Dafyd Llewellyn, imagine the case will be easily solved. Armed with a list of local debtors, they begin their investigations. But they hadn’t counted on the conspiracy of silence amongst the residents — most of whom had good reason to want Jaws dead.

 Rafferty is forced to make some unorthodox decisions and stretch his intuitive powers to breaking point to find the solution.

 PLEASE SHARE. TELL YOUR FRIENDS. TELL ANYONE YOU KNOW WHO LIKES MYSTERIES (ESPECIALLY ONES WITH A BIT OF HUMOUR). ESPECIALLY IF  THEY’RE FREE!

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Detective Inspector Joe Rafferty riffled through the quotes from caterers and venues, photographers and florists, and thought, Why so expensive? It’s only a wedding, not the Second Coming.

When he’d proposed to Abra the previous Christmas, he’d been astonished that she’d said yes. His beguiling, spirited Abra could have married anyone, yet she’d chosen him. He’d wafted around in a rose-pink cloud for days. Then it had been all hearts and roses. But now the cold reality of a modern wedding hit him in the face with the force of a frozen kipper.

He ran a hand over his unruly auburn hair and muttered under his breath, ‘I can feel my credit cards wincing from across the hall.’ And he hadn’t even looked at the honeymoon brochures yet.

Abra reached across the breakfast table, took his face in her hand and forced an involuntary pucker. But she didn’t kiss him. Instead, she said, ‘You won’t be a tightwad about it, will you, Joe? We don’t want a hole-in-the-corner wedding. People will say we’ve something to hide.’

With no kiss forthcoming, Rafferty eased his head out of her grasp, picked up the stack of papers and let them drop again. ‘If we fork out for what this lot are charging, we will have something to hide. Us! From friendly, neighbourhood bailiffs.’

Abra tossed her chestnut hair. She slid around the table onto his lap to poke him slyly in the ribs. ‘Aren’t I worth it, then, love?’

He buried his face in her long hair and breathed in its just-washed lemon scent. ‘Of course you’re worth it, my little peach melba. But I’m not Rockefeller. Only a humble copper still paying off the re-decoration of the flat.’

‘That’s another thing.’ She gave him a lingering kiss which put him on his mettle, before she said, ‘I think we ought to sell this place and buy a house.’

‘But we’ve only just decorated,’ he protested. ‘All the new furniture!’

‘Exactly. That’s the most sensible time to sell. When the flat’s looking its best.’

‘I’d prefer to enjoy it looking its best myself,’ he said, disgruntled. ‘Anyway, I thought we were discussing the wedding, not moving home. Isn’t getting married big enough?’ It’s certainly stressful enough, he thought.

‘Where’s your ambition?’ she challenged. Then immediately softened. ‘Sorry, love. I’m being mean. But try to look at it from my point of view, Joe. This flat’s not mine, and it never will be. I want a place that we’ve chosen together. A place that’s ours. Is that so unreasonable?’

‘No,’ he conceded. ‘But we still haven’t settled a date for the wedding, poppet.’ Rafferty pushed her hair behind her ears and kissed her nose.

‘What about May?’

Rafferty nodded with relief. ‘May’s fine.’ That was one thing sorted. He eased her off his lap onto his chair as he stood up from the table. ‘And now I’ve got to get to work.’ He slid his arms into his jacket and straightened the frayed cuffs. ’Earn the money to pay for it all.’

Abra looked up at him with a winner’s grin. ‘Love you.’

‘Reckon it’s my money you love, you hussy.’ He bent and kissed her. ‘But I‘m pretty keen on you, too. Just try not to put my Mr Plod salary in too steep a debt spiral or we’ll be climbing out of the pit from here to eternity.’

As he picked up his raincoat and felt in his pocket for his keys, he shook his head. These wedding costs were getting seriously out of hand. Abra seemed to hope for the pomp of Lady Diana Spencer’s wedding—but look how that marriage turned out. His lovely fiancée had been taken over by an alien being—a mischievous wedding sprite, and he didn’t know how to get her back.

Abra shuffled the wedding quotes into a neat pile. ‘I’m off work today, so you can leave these to me. I’ll whittle them down. Some are charging way over the odds.’ She flashed her dimples. ‘I’ll ring round and see if I can’t knock them down a bit.’

Rafferty swallowed the sigh with the thought: A lot would be better. He bent once more, gave her a lust-filled kiss and made for the hall.

He only hoped this marriage worked out better than his first.


The weather was playing tag with Rafferty. A fierce wind blew his hair into that just-out-of bed look that was so fetching on Abra, whipping his raincoat into a veritable Irish jig as rain lashed him from all sides. He wished he was feeling as lively as his raincoat. He put down his head and dashed to the car, trying to restrain his flapping mac. Please God, let nobody get themselves murdered today. He didn’t fancy hanging around street corners in a downpour, musing on the type of house Abra might choose in her current mood. Buckingham Palace? Windsor Castle?

He hoped she hadn’t meant it. It wasn’t as though the flat wasn’t big enough. With three bedrooms, it could easily house a family. His Abra might long for Princess Diana’s fairy-tale wedding, but Rafferty—like Prince Charles—was no Prince Charming. And Rafferty lacked that princely income.

He threw himself into the car and slammed the door against the wind and rain, then glanced at his watch. His work day not even begun, and he was already behind.

Elmhurst was an attractive Essex market town that even the grey day couldn’t make ugly. Its quirky, individual architecture seldom failed to cheer him. Rafferty sped through it, quickly correcting as his back wheels aquaplaned through a puddle that had overwhelmed the drains and slid around a corner. He pulled into the car park off Bacon Lane, the police station’s back entrance. Naturally, the car park was full. Even the Super had beaten him to work today, his shining Lexus parked in the bay nearest the station’s rear entrance, a space sanctified by both Superintendent Bradley and, presumably, God. Rafferty had trespassed once or twice on its holy space and been roundly rebuked.

He parked in the last open space on the street and ran head-down and splashing through puddles to the station’s rear entrance. He opened the door and hurried dripping up the concrete stairs, leaving with each squelching step little slippery droplets to catch the unwary. Perhaps the sainted Super would have reason to come down shortly and injure his dignity. Rafferty smiled. A man can dream.

As he walked along the second floor corridor, he wrung out his hair and raincoat, wishing, in spite of the wedding arrangements, that he was still at home, in bed with Alba with her long, chestnut hair let down and her silky nightie soft under his hands. He quelled the thought. Inappropriate for work, isn’t that what they called it these days? He opened his office door.

His sergeant, Dafyd Llewellyn, was already at his desk, as usual. Llewellyn looked both industrious and bandbox-smart, also as usual, with a workspace as neat as conscientious industry could make it.

By comparison, Rafferty felt like something the cat dragged in. He glanced at his own desk and almost laughed as he realised that, like Llewellyn, he too was a good match for his workspace. Sometimes even the usually restrained Llewellyn’s fingers gave in to the itch to straighten the towering piles of papers, folders, and other impedimenta that covered the surface and threatened to spill over the sides.

Rafferty smoothed his unruly hair into some sort of order and sat down, shaking out the soggy ends of his trousers. ‘So what have we got, Dafyd? Anything exciting today?’

‘Not yet,’ Llewellyn replied evenly. ‘Unless, of course, there are any further muggings.’

‘Less of the fate-tempting, if you please.’

‘There’s still that report Superintendent Bradley wants you to read and initial.’ Llewellyn’s voice had the slightest tinge of disapproval. ‘It’s been on your desk nearly a week.’

Rafferty pulled a face. ‘I suppose you’ve read it?’

Llewellyn nodded.

‘Give me the condensed version, then, there’s a good chap. You know how wordy these bloody reports are. Mostly bumf.’

Llewellyn proceeded to explain the lengthy report in his calm, level manner, but as he proved almost as wordy as the report itself, Rafferty stopped him at Section 3 Subsection iv c. ‘Can you simply nod if the powers-that-be have ordered another meeting to discuss their preliminary findings?’

Llewellyn nodded.

Rafferty sighed. ’Meetings and more meetings. It’s a wonder we have any time to solve crimes. I’ll initial it. They’ll still be discussing it come Doomsday. Anything else?’

‘Superintendent Bradley asked for you to pop in to see him, if you haven’t arranged a prior appointment.’

‘What’s the old bugger want now?’ Sarky git, he thought. Trust the Super to assume he was given to making spurious appointments so as to avoid him. He’d only done it twice. Or it might have been thrice. But even so—Rafferty thumped the weighty report. ‘Not to discuss this, I hope.’

Llewellyn’s lips twitched slightly. ‘I think not. I understood him to say that he wishes to speak with you about the recent spate of muggings against moneylenders’ collectors.’

‘He wants to know what I’m doing about it, I suppose?’ Truth was, Rafferty wasn’t doing a lot. The local loan sharks’ collectors were nothing more than bullying thugs adept at putting the frighteners on little old ladies. Mugging was too good for them. ‘Throw a few grand-sounding phrases together for me, Daff. You know I’m no good at that sort of thing. Loads of long words and Politically-Correct bollocks. The Super’ll like that.’

Llewellyn raised dark eyebrows that were as neat as the rest of him. Rafferty swore he plucked them. ‘Something along the lines of: “We’re proceeding with our inquiries and have a number of promising leads,” you mean?’

‘That’ll do for starters.’ He felt in his pocket for some change. ‘But before you do that, can you get the tea in? I’m gasping. You can think up a few more bunches of bullshit while you’re in the canteen instead of chatting up the lovely Opal.’ Rafferty stifled a grin at his sergeant’s blush. Opal was a Caribbean lady of lilting accent, ample charms and an irrepressible sense of fun that believed flirtation should have a dangerous edge. She had taken a fancy to Llewellyn and seemed to find his puritan soul a challenge. ‘One of the muggers was thought to be Asian, so perhaps you can work in something about ethnic sensitivities.’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier to investigate the muggings?’

‘Probably. But I hesitate to interfere with anybody making the streets of Elmhurst safer. Oh,’ Rafferty shouted just before Llewellyn closed the door. ‘Fancy a hot-cross bun?’

Mock-serious, Llewellyn frowned. ‘I think you’ll find it is now called a hot-lined bun. Religious symbolism is also on the veto list.’

‘Veto my arse.’ Rafferty slammed the door for added emphasis. But he knew that no matter how many PC-worded explanations Llewellyn came up for his lack of progress , he’d have to do something about the muggings eventually.

Llewellyn was back in the office within minutes, a cup of tea in each hand and hot cross buns balanced precisely dead centre.

‘Managed to escape Opal’s blandishments again, hey?’ Rafferty teased.

Llewellyn placed Rafferty’s cup on a folded paper napkin which he’d earlier had the prescience to clear some space for on Rafferty’s cluttered desk.

Rafferty pulled a thin file on the investigation towards him. He began to read, liberally scattering crumbs across his front, his lap and his paperwork.

He was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

‘Ah, Rafferty. You’re in, then?’ It was Superintendent Bradley.

The intimation that he’d been late wasn’t lost on Rafferty. He crossed his fingers behind his back. ‘Bright, shining, and ready to go, sir.’ Hey paused to swallow more tea before adding, ‘I’ve put in a couple of hours’ working from home.’

This brought a stunned, disbelieving silence, and across the room Llewellyn shook his head.

‘Right.’ The Super’s voice barked unexpectedly, so that Rafferty almost dropped his tea. ‘You can start by coming along to my office. I’m sure Llewellyn told you I wanted to see you first thing.’

Rafferty kept shtum.

‘I want to talk to you about these muggings.’


Superintendent Bradley was in lecturing mode. ‘You’ll have to do better than this, you know, Rafferty.’ The Super waved a thin sheaf of papers under Rafferty’s nose. ‘Your reports are sparse—very sparse.’

Rafferty began his explanatory spiel. He wished the Super hadn’t rung before he’d had time to get Llewellyn to prime him with the correct verbiage, but he hadn’t, so Rafferty did his best.

Superintendent Bradley interrupted him almost immediately. ‘It won’t do, Rafferty. It won’t do at all. I’ve had the Deputy Chief Constable on my back about these cases. He’s a golfing buddy of one of the moneylenders whose collector was assaulted. Man by the name of Forbes. That’s the wrong side of the brass to be on, Rafferty. Which makes it the wrong side of me. Do I make myself clear?’

As crystal.

Rafferty nodded glumly and made his escape.

He’d barely got back to his office when the phone went again.

It was Abra. ‘Hiya. Missing you already.’

‘Ditto, darlin’. The Super’s really not up to the job of standing in for you, more’s the pity.’

‘He’s dragged you into his lair already, has he? Poor Joe.’ Abra paused tellingly, then said, ‘I’ve been ringing round a few of the venues, and I simply can’t get them to drop their prices. I wondered—’ A more delicate pause this time.‘ How much might I spend?’ She named a figure that made Rafferty’s eyes water.

‘For a measly chicken salad and a few olives thrown in?’ He didn’t even like bloody olives. ‘What do they do in their spare time? Rob graves?’

‘It’s a normal quote, Joe. What did you have served at your first wedding? Sausage butties all round at the corner chippie?’

‘Abra, darling. You know I’d rather nip up to Gretna Green and forget this whole thing.’

‘I suppose Gretna Green is good enough for a man who’s been married once already. But this is my first—my only—wedding.’ The note of tears in Abra’s voice worked its magic. In truth, they’d never been far away once she set sail aboard HMS Romance. ‘I want to do it properly with all our family and friends there to wish us well.’

That was two people Rafferty had upset, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning. ‘All right, sweetheart. But can we talk about it tonight? I’m up to my eyes here.’

‘Tonight, then. Promise, Joe?’

‘Cross my heart. Love you, Abra. I’ll see you tonight.’ Rafferty had just set down the phone when it rang for the third time right under his hand. He braced himself.

‘Inspector Rafferty? This is Constable Smales. There seems to have been a murder, sir. Just called in.’

‘Where?’ Rafferty sat up straight, knocking his bun to the floor.

‘An alleyway adjacent to Primrose Avenue.’

‘What happened?’

‘Constanble Green, who’s on the scene, reports it as blows to the back of the victim’s head. Quite a mess, sir.’

‘Any idea of the victim’s identity?’

‘Not yet, sir. His wallet’s missing. Lizzie Green thinks he’s a man called John “Jaws” Harrison. Works as a collector for Malcolm Forbes, one of the local loan sharks.’

Oh great, thought Rafferty. Now he really would have to take action.

‘All right, Smales. I’ll be out there right away.’

Rafferty gulped his lukewarm tea, picked up his bun from the floor and dusted it off, before cramming its remains into his mouth. Muggings were one thing. But now they’d escalated to murder he knew he’d have to do more than a ‘little something’ He’d likely need the bun’s sustaining carbohydrates during the following busy hours.

New Rafferty & Llewellyn ebook: DEATH DUES #11 in the series

Just published!

Latest Rafferty & Llewellyn ebook. £0.77 / $0.99 / Euro 0.86

Bargain Price for two days only!

‘Evans writes clearly and realistically. The wry humour in the badinage between Rafferty and Llewellyn keeps the story moving.’

BOOKLIST ON DEATH DUES

 GEvans_DeathDues (2)

A Rafferty & Llewellyn cozy procedural #11

With his wife-to-be’s wedding budget spiralling out of control and his superintendent demanding the swift resolution to the series of muggings of local loan sharks, DI Joe Rafferty is anticipating a long and trying week. And sure, enough, he isn’t disappointed.

 When one John ‘Jaws’ Harrison is found with his skull caved in, in an alleyway backing on to rundown Primrose Avenue while on his way to collect debt repayments from the residents, Rafferty and his intellectual partner, Sergeant Dafyd Llewellyn, imagine the case will be easily solved. Armed with a list of local debtors, they begin their investigations. But they hadn’t counted on the conspiracy of silence amongst the residents — most of whom had good reason to want Jaws dead.

 With the Super breathing down his neck and fiancée Abra sending his blood pressure to boiling point, Rafferty is forced to make some unorthodox decisions and stretch his intuitive powers to breaking point.

LINKS:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00G2JOHCU

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00G2JOHCU

https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00G2JOHCU

https://www.amazon.de/dp/B00G2JOHCU

https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B00G2JOHCU

https://www.amazon.in/dp/B00G2JOHCU

https://www.amazon.es/dp/B00G2JOHCU

https://www.amazon.it/dp/B00G2JOHCU

https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B00G2JOHCU

 

THREE LITTLE FREEBIES: 1 OCT 2013 Palmistry and Relationships, How to eFormat and a Spoof

FREE TODAY 1 OCTOBER 2013
THREE LITTLE FREEBIES. SMALL, BUT PERFECTLY FORMED!

AMAZON UK
PALMISTRY POINTERS TO POTENTIAL GLITCHES IN YOUR ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00FAUUE7O
SO YOU WANT TO GET A PARTNER? Relationship Counselling for the Lovelorn SPOOF
http://qurl.com/jhfbb
HOW TO eFORMAT YOUR NOVEL FOR AMAZON’S KINDLE: A Short But Comprehensive A-Z Guide
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AMAZON US
PALMISTRY POINTERS TO POTENTIAL GLITCHES IN YOUR ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS
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http://qurl.com/2tf9q
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AMAZON DE
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ALL LINKS TO SO YOU WANT TO GET A PARTNER Article

SO YOU WANT TO GET A PARTNER Relationship Counselling for the Lovelorn SPOOFEBOOK COVER HOW TO EFORMAT YOUR NOVEL FOR AMAZON KINDLEPREFERRED COVER ENTIRE PALM WITH ALL LINES  BLACK TEXT AND CLEARER AUTHOR FINAL600x800 version for wordpress post

BARGAIN BUY!

DEAD BEFORE MORNING #1 in my bestselling, 15-strong police procedural series is now on special offer.

Only 77p / US$1.17 / Euro 0,89 / Yen100 / R$203

DEAD BEFORE MORNING EBOOK COVER

LINKS:

UK: http://amzn.to/114K3eh  US: http://amzn.to/16YiCCW

CAN: http://amzn.to/136g56Q  DE: http://amzn.to/11CXb4U

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DI Joe Rafferty, working-class lapsed Catholic, is cursed by coming from a family who think – if he must be a copper – he might at least have the decency to be a bent one. When you add the middle-class, more moral than the Pope, intellectual DS Dafyd Llewellyn to the brew the result is murder with plenty of laughs for the reader and plenty of angst for Rafferty.

BOOK BLURB
Detective Inspector Joe Rafferty has just been promoted. Then he lands the case from Hell, one involving a corpse with no face, no ID,  no clothes, and smashed teeth, found in a place she had no business being: a private psychiatric hospital. Dr Anthony Melville-Briggs, the suave, social-climbing owner, who thinks his money can buy everything, even the police, is another aggravating factor.

As if that isn’t enough, his Ma, Kitty Rafferty, has another little problem for him: she wants him to get his distant cousin out of the cells in time for his wedding. Against his better judgement, Rafferty promises to do his best to get his cousin sprung, though he is careful not to give a time-scale for the Great Escape.

Struggling, with no solution in sight, it is only when he is reminded of his forgotten promise and goes to see his jail-bird cousin, that Rafferty begins to put the case to bed.

REVIEWS FOR DEAD BEFORE MORNING
‘This often comic tale sharpens the appetite for more.’
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

‘Evans’ humor seriously added to my enjoyment of her book. The series has stand out central characters and clever plots.’
AUNT AGATHA’S BOOKSHOP, ANN ARBOR

 

FREE FOR FIVE DAYS FROM TODAY 24 MAY 2013. A KILLING KARMA #2 IN CASEY AND CATT PROCEDURALS

A KILLING KARMA

A KILLING KARMA

Just a quick reminder that my 2nd Casey & Catt procedural, A Killing Karma, goes free on amazon for five days from 24 May 2013. NOW! Get your copy here:
Amazon.co.uk: http://amzn.to/10ExmkN
Amazon.com: http://amzn.to/10Ex7q3
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‘Another solid procedural leavened with a dash of quirky characters.’ KIRKUS REVIEWS ON A KILLING KARMA

 For lovers of cozy mysteries and procedurals

 If you enjoy some humour with your murders, you’ll likely love this British detective series

 Enjoying a week’s well-earned break, Detective Chief Inspector ‘Will’ Casey’s peace is shattered by a frantic call from his mother. Moon Casey, the maternal half of his drug-taking, ‘The Sixties never died’, hippie parents, confesses there are two dead bodies in the grounds of the Fenland commune where she and Star, his father, live.

 His brain numbed by shock, Casey failed to question Moon thoroughly on the ‘phone. But, on arrival at their ramshackle commune, he learns that neither death has been reported — not surprising, when it emerges that the body of the first victim was found lying on top of their crushed and illicit cannabis plants and has already been buried for some time. While the body of the second victim was laid out in one of the sheds, surrounded by candles and bearing signs of violence.

 Casey is bemused to discover that Moon, Star and the rest of the commune members seem to expect him to sweep these inconvenient bodies under some kind of magic carpet rather than call in the local constabulary. And although he is a loving son, for a senior police officer, this really is an expectation too far. Determined that, for once in their lives, his parents take responsibility for their own actions, he insists that they ring their local police and report the deaths.

 As if that’s not enough, once back on duty, Casey is also called upon to solve a very unpleasant murder on his own patch of King’s Langley: this time of a John Doe found dead in a dark alley. With the help of his knowing sergeant, Thomas Catt and his assorted contacts, Casey must try to get to the bottom of both official and unofficial cases.

 Neither proves easy, particularly the latter, which suffers under the additional complication that he needs to keep a very low profile. If the media get a sniff of his connection to the druggie parents who are also suspects in what turns out to be a double murder investigation, his career could blow up in his face.

 

FREE FOR FIVE DAYS FROM TUESDAY 23 APRIL 2013: UP IN FLAMES

Up in Flames #1 in Casey & Catt police procedural series

FREE FOR FIVE DAYS FROM TUESDAY 23 APRIL 2013

LINKS BELOW BLURB

’WelGEvans_UpInFlamesl researched. Intriguing plot. Good pace. Excellent characterisation and wry humour make this a very enjoyable read. Highly recommended.’ Mystery Women

 For lovers of cozy mysteries and procedurals

 If you enjoy some humour with your murders, you’ll likely love this British detective series.

BLURB

When Chandra Bansi and her baby, Leela, are burned to death, DCI ‘Will’ Casey and his less than politically correct sergeant, Thomas Catt, rapidly come under pressure from their superintendent to put a couple of skinhead thugs behind bars for arson.

After the fiasco over the investigation of black teenager Stephen Lawrence‘s murder by racist white thugs, Superintendent Brown-Smith is acutely aware that he is in the hot seat. Desperate for a speedy and politically-satisfactory solution to the case and worried that his previously smooth and upward career-progression will be irretrievably damaged by failure, he places additional pressure on Casey.

But the investigation quickly unearths suspects other than the skinheads, suspects unlikely to endear Casey to his superiors or the Asian community.

The resolution of the most difficult case of his career is not eased by the arrival of his impecunious, the Sixties-never-died, hippie parents. Urgently in need of a temporary home, they selfishly concluded that decamping to Casey’s peaceful haven will provide the solution to their current difficulties.

But their raucous, undisciplined lifestyle causes Casey sleepless nights at a time he most needs calm. Bedevilled at home by his irresponsible parents, bedevilled at work by accusations of discrimination from the usual quarters, Casey and ThomCatt must wend a circuitous path through all the additional problems the investigation throws up.

For instance, just how respectable is Chandra’s businessman father? And what about her in-laws, who seem to have blamed their westernised daughter-in-law for the death of their only son? Other members of the victim’s family also come under suspicion. Casey must use the utmost sensitivity in his handling of the case if he is not to cause unrest in the Asian community.

And, at the heart of the case is the fact that Chandra, a modern young woman, had been uncomfortably caught between two cultures. It’s hard to say which of them is the more dangerous.

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The Author

Geraldine Evans is a British writer of police procedurals that contain a lot of humour and family drama Her15-strong Rafferty & Llewellyn series features DI Joe Rafferty, a London-Irish, working-class, lapsed Catholic, who comes from a family who think - if he must be a policeman - he might at least have the decency to be a bent one. Her 2-strong Casey & Catt series features DCI 'Will' Casey, a serious-minded, responsible policeman, whose 'the Sixties never died', irresponsible, drug-taking, hippie parents, pose particular problems of the embarrassing kind.

AUTHOR MEMBER: ALLi

The Alliance of Independent Authors — Author Member

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