Friday, April 5, 2024

Book Review: Jim’s Pterodactyl is an intriguing novel by Andrew R. Williams.

Amazon / Goodreads  / LibraryThing / Reedsy 

Book Blurb:

In this egg-straordinary tale, Jim Godwin has an unexpected delivery that takes a hilariously unexpected turn. 

Imagine a world where ancient creatures collide with everyday life, and you’ll find yourself in the midst of this dark comedy.

The story revolves around Jim Godwin, who finds himself with an unexpected and ancient guest—a pterodactyl!

As the plot unfolds, mishaps, humour, and perhaps a touch of cheese await readers. 

So let’s meet Ollie!  The cheese-eating Pterodactyl.

Caldwell Ellis commissions a 'find and retrieve' mission in Papua New Guinea to locate Ropen eggs and prove to the world that Pterodactyls still exist. (Ropen is the local name for Pterodactyls).

An egg is stolen from a Pterodactyl’s nest and sent back to the UK but is delivered to Jim Godwin by mistake.

Jim is advised to dump the egg in a waste bin, but he is too kind-hearted to do that to a living creature. 

Then the egg hatches and Jim and Moira call the new-born baby “Ollie”.

But Jim is filled with trepidation. 

Will Ollie grow into a monster with a 30-foot wingspan? 

Will Ollie become the second Tipham Vampire? 

Then there’s the food issue. Ollie develops a liking for cheese.

 Is she going to eat them out of house-and- home?

But most of their fears are groundless.

 It turns out that Ollie is a clever soul, who bonds with Jim and Moira and communicates telepathically and verbally.

However, Ollie’s existence creates all kinds of trouble and adventures for the Tipham crew! 


Review

Secrets, greed, and old pals are all back in this tongue in the cheek fantasy story from the author Andrew Williams.

Jim and Moira’s story really captures the imagination of any reader. I have learned about them in Jim’s Revenge, a heartfelt and interesting plot with lots of mayhem and unsavoury characters. In Jim’s Revenge, Moira was the victim of a conniving blackmailer, and Jim helped her in a very nifty way. Teaching us that there is still room for old school heroism.

In Jim’s Pterodactyl, the two are at it again. Some of the old characters are back and new ones are introduced with the author’s typical English humour style and good plotline.

This time we are taken to a cottage in the countryside where all kinds of interesting and crazy things happen when Moira inherits this place. Upon investigation of the cottage, Jim realizes early on that something is up to this place. Especially when they receive a package from Papua New Genia with a very sinister message attached to it. A package that will keep them on their toes and defy all scientific logic.

The Tipham vampire and the ghost of Cunningham added to the adventurous plotline as the pair delves into the many clues, and secrets left by Caldwell Ellis.

Ollie’s antics and understanding of human behaviour added another layer of intrigue and adventure as you get to know the people and their motives.

A fun read that every reader will enjoy.


 

Excerpt:

“Snakes!” Sam said.

“What type of snakes?”

Jim smiled at his youngest grandson and shrugged, “I don’t know. A man is coming to take them away shortly.”

“Will they bite him,” Sam said.

Jim’s smile increased, “I hope not. Besides, he’s used to handling snakes.”

Ian cut in, “Can we see the snakes before they go, Grandpa Godwin?”

Tommy Godwin, the boy’s father, stuck his oar in, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Snakes can be dangerous.”

“They’re in tanks with lids on top,” Jim replied. “The snakes can’t get out and harm anyone.”

Tommy deliberately changed the subject, “So, is Moira moving out then?”

The question annoyed Jim. Ever since Moira had come to stay with him, Tommy had been sniping and making unsubtle suggestions that she was a gold digger, only interested in his money. Worse, Tommy’s comments lacked subtlety, leaving Moira with little doubt that he wanted her to leave Jim’s apartment. Not wishing to start another argument, Jim didn’t lock horns with his son. Instead, he pointed out the obvious, “We’ve got to clear Cunningham Cottage out first, and that could take some time. That’s why Moira’s gone there today to start sorting things out.”

“So she’s down there now, eh!” Tommy said.

“Yes,” Jim replied, avoiding the real truth. Although the cottage needed sorting out, Moira had decided to go shopping when she knew Tommy was calling. She’d high-tailed it to avoid another confrontation.

Sam repeated his request, “Can we see the snakes before the man takes them away, Grandpa?”

Jim said, “If your Dad says it’s okay. Then, yes.” When Tommy finally gave in, Jim glanced at Ian and said, “Would you and your mates like to earn a bit of money?”

 Ian was suspicious, “Doing what?”

“Helping us get stuff out of the loft at the cottage,” Jim said, “Moira doesn’t want me to go up there. She thinks I’m too old. She thinks I’ll fall out of the loft hatch. It won’t take long, and I will pay for your time.”

When Tommy opened his mouth, wanting to throw in his six pennies worth, Jim quickly added, “It’s only moving boxes of books and things like that. Nothing heavy.”

Ian asked, “Can Gerry Fulstrum and Mick Ormrod help, too, if they want to?”

“That’s why I said you and your mates,” Jim replied and began negotiating pay rates. Once Ian had telephoned his friends and the helper’s rates were agreed upon, Ian said, “When we come around to help, can we look at the snakes?”

“As long as they haven’t gone before you get there,” Jim replied. Sensing he might miss out, Ian said, “Can we come down on Saturday?”

Jim smiled, “I’m sure that would be fine.”

***

Cunningham Cottage Tipham Tommy Steals a Key

When they arrived at Cunningham Cottage on Saturday, Moira ignored the drive and pulled up at the kerb because she wanted to be away before Tommy, Jim’s son, turned up.

Jim matched her thoughts by glancing at his watch and saying, “Tommy said he would drop the boys off at eleven o’clock. Are you going to go shopping as I suggested?”

At the mention of Tommy’s name, Moira reacted like a gazelle picking up the scent of a lion on the wind. She said, “That’s what we agreed.”

Jim’s mind flashed back to the last confrontation between Moira and Tommy. It had been most unpleasant in the extreme. It had been so bad that Jim thought Moira might move out to avoid the constant sniping. But amazingly, she hadn’t.

She added, “Just one thing. While I’m away, don’t let the boys run wild.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let the boys interfere with anything,” Jim promised. “I’ll set the tables up in the garage and label them as agreed. Then we will just bring everything downstairs and put them in the garage for sorting, as discussed.”

Satisfied that Jim would follow her instructions, Moira waited for Jim to unload the portable tables they’d borrowed from work. Once the car was unloaded, Jim glanced at his watch again, “It’s nearly half ten. Knowing Tommy, he’ll probably turn up early. I bet he’ll be wanting to look around.”

“Okay,” Moira said, “I’ll go, but if anything is damaged, I’ll hold you responsible. And make sure that no one falls through the ceiling. Some of the floorboards in the loft are very flimsy.”

Jim walked towards the cottage, key in hand and shouted back, “Stop fussing, woman; we’ll be fine, and I’ll call you when Tommy leaves, and you can come back.”

Once Moira had driven off, Jim let himself in and noted a letter on the hall floor. The name on the envelope was Ellis Parkinson, and it had been sent from Papua New Guinea. After wondering if he should open it, Jim changed his mind. As the letter looked as if it had been wrongly delivered, he tossed it on top of the meter cupboard.

He carried the tables into the garage and labelled them. He then went to the kitchen. Feeling a draught, Jim let his senses guide him. Finding the brick with the message attached, Jim knew who was behind the attack. Although the note on the brick didn’t provide a full name, only someone like Paul Tupal would continue a vendetta even though he was banged up in the clink. He considered what he should say to Moira if she asked questions. As Paul Tupal had made Moira’s life hell when they’d worked in the same office and had tried to rape her, Jim decided the least said the better. Wanting to remove the evidence, he took the brick outside and dropped it into the dustbin, cleared the broken glass and blocked the window internally with a sheet of stout cardboard; he then called Jamie Berry, an odd job man he knew and arranged to replace the glass.

***

Jim shook his head, “Edmundo J. Cunningham was a wealthy man; he built Cunningham Hall. Why would his ghost be here?” Moira pointed to another formal picture showing Cunningham with two children and a younger woman dressed in old-fashioned clothes.

She said, “I’m guessing, but I think Cunningham had a mistress who lived here.”

“In those days,” Jim said, “Living over the brush was frowned upon.”

“This cottage is in the middle of nowhere,” Moira replied icily. “In those days, the road probably wouldn’t have even been macadamized. It would just have been a farm track. Besides, people like Edmundo J. Cunningham wrote their own rules.”

“It still doesn’t answer why Cunningham’s ghost may be haunting this place,” Jim replied.

Moira tugged his arm again and pointed, “Look at this.” Jim glanced at the next frame. Inside, there was the reproduction of an old newspaper cutting.

The headline said, “The Tipham Vampire Strikes Again!” Underneath was an artist’s sketch and a lurid tale of a large, winged creature chasing a man through the woods. According to the report, the beast eventually caught his victim and attacked him.

The article concluded with the note that the victim might have been killed if a local farmer armed with a shotgun hadn’t scared the winged attacker away.

While they were still staring at the sketch, Ian walked into the room with an old laptop computer in one hand and said, “We found this in the loft.”

Jim took it off him and said, “I wonder if it works?”

“You’ll have to charge it up and see.” 


Monday, January 29, 2024

Book Review: Juror Number Ten by Caroline Taylor


Genre: Thriller/romantic suspense

Bio: 

Caroline Taylor is a novelist and short-story writer who grew up in the mountain west and traveled widely, including a brief stint in the Foreign Service. A former editor of Humanities magazine, she is the author of several mysteries, one short-story collection, and a nonfiction book. Two of her novels won the Firebird Book award, and a third was a finalist for the Freddie Award. A member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime, she lives in North Carolina.

 

Blurb: 

Forgive their trespasses? One has committed murder. Two have committed adultery, and the third has stooped to petty spying. When Sophie Dickson becomes the reluctant tenth juror in a DC murder trial, she encounters the man whose marriage she destroyed through a drunken act of adultery. The prosecutor knows he will lose the case, which is what his boss wants. The plaintiff, Nona Pierce, refuses to plead guilty, even while owning up to the murder. She just wants her day in court. Instead, she’s kidnapped, the prosecutor is fired, and Juror Number Ten finds herself in the middle of a situation far less appealing than jury duty—and much more dangerous. How could a murder prompted by a lawsuit over real estate grow into a war between an alleged crime boss and a gang of scary Russians willing to murder to get what they want?

 

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Excerpt

Cody made his report as brief as he could. When he finished, Gordon said, “I’m not hopeful they’ll find her. There must be three hundred black SUVs in the DC area—and that’s if the kidnappers aren’t halfway to Baltimore by now. I suppose the police have put out a BOLO to the airports and train stations.”

“Bolo?” Sophie had been quietly sitting there, legs crossed, one nicely shaped foot bouncing nervously back and forth. Clearly she didn’t understand the term. Gordon smiled at her.

“It’s shorthand for ‘be on the lookout.’ Of course, the FBI will get involved since it’s a kidnapping. Which will help.” The look he bestowed on Sophie reminded Cody of the way Professor Abercrombie dealt with his students at Georgetown.

“Would you care to add to Cody’s account, Ms. Dickson?” “I’m afraid not. If you don’t mind, sir, I’ll be on my way.”

“Yes, of course. But first, I want to show you some photos.”

“I never saw his face.”

“Bear with me. Are you hungry? I could have sandwiches brought in.” He stood and went to a filing cabinet where he started rummaging through one of the drawers. This was a rarity for a man who hated to be caught standing anywhere near anybody as tall as Cody happened to be.

Cody plopped down on the sofa beside her. “I’m partial to the tuna melt, but they also have burgers.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Or salads,” said Gordon, “or ice cream.” He held a thick manila folder.

Sophie sighed. “Oh, all right. I suppose I should eat.”

“Atta girl.” Gordon patted her shoulder. Cody got to his feet. “I’ll order lunch. You want the usual, Gordon?”

“Sure, and you, Ms. Dickson?” “I guess the tuna melt.” Gordon’s assistant Martha would get the food, but Cody figured it would be best to leave the two of them to deal with the photos. After he’d talked to Martha, he checked for any messages on his phone. A request to reschedule tomorrow’s meeting with Terence O’Brien, the real estate agent whose carelessness or ignorance with respect to DC real estate law had royally screwed Nona Pierce out of her money. Fine. Let him stew. Nona hadn’t known Cody had been pursuing the now-moot civil case at Gordon’s behest. If there was an acquittal in the murder trial, Gordon had planned to sue the realtor for negligence. Apparently, the boss had a huge soft spot in his heart for his missing client.

The only other message was a text from Max Crowell wanting to know when they could hit the courts at Hains Point. So did Cody. He’d done so much walking and stair climbing and getting in and out of cars today that he wondered if he’d ever be able to move without pain again. His ankle was aching like a jilted woman’s heart. “Don’t know,” he texted back.

When he got back to Gordon’s office, Sophie was laughing. “That’s so not PC. But it really is funny.” Gordon was laughing too.

“Yeah. I have a lot of jokes in my repertoire, but I only tell them to my friends.” Jesus. Why not spread it on real thick?

“Any luck?”

“Yep,” said Gordon.

“Ms. Dickson—” “Sophie. Please.”

“Sophie here thinks the snatcher had a physique similar to this guy.”

He handed a photo to Cody, pointing to the man at the left. It was one of the photos Cody had taken at the church social where the late (courtesy of Nona Pierce) Tatiana Orlovsky and her son Grigor joined others every Sunday evening for a potluck supper of Russian comfort food, lubricated liberally with vodka. The three men appeared to be singing, their arms draped across one another’s shoulders. The bearded guy in the middle was tall and thin, a Russian Ichabod Crane. The short guy on the right had close-set eyes and a jowly face hinting of indulgence in a few too many blinis over the years. The guy on the left was huge with a weight lifter’s enormous arms and no neck. Still, it was a stretch.

“Why would guys from Orlovsky’s church go after Pierce?”

“Jesus, Cody. Think about it. We always thought Ms. Orlovsky had to be one of those embedded spies we keep hearing about, especially because of her line of business. Well, all these people are Russian émigrés, a.k.a. spies. One of their own was murdered. They want an eye for an eye.” “After three whole years?”

“It could have taken a while for them to gin up the courage—or to collect their orders from Moscow.”

“Oh, come on,” said Sophie.

“You’re talking as though this is still the Cold War.” Gordon gave her the fish eye.

“Meet the new war; same as the old war.”

 


Review

This is the second book I have read of the author Caroline Taylor.

Nona and Sophie stood on the opposite sides of the law. The one was a jury member, the other the accused.

But when Nona got kidnapped, the entire game changed. Instead of being in court, we tag along as people scramble to find Nona and keep her safe. I really liked this elderly woman and can relate to her story as she try to stay alive and get some money to live from. Being close to 60 myself, I understand the turmoil of looking for ways to increase your income. It is simply a never-ending story with its own predicaments which can lead you to trouble, quickly.

The characters that the author added, really set the tone of the rest of the story and soon I was lost in the trappings and nuances of the plot.

The characters are well developed and relatable. The flow is easy to follow, and the momentum is to the point. Pointing out the different races, became a bity weary but otherwise a great story right to the end.

 

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

Well dressed Lies by Carrie Hayes

 

Well Dressed Lies

by Carrie Hayes

Black Coffee Book Tours

January 23-26

London, 1877.
Retired suffragists, VICTORIA WOODHULL and TENNESEE CLAFLIN
are shrewd, attractive, and looking for husbands. But their backgrounds are sketchy. No one knows they've been paid - some might say bribed - a fortune to leave New York. That they've been accused of intrigue, blackmail and worse are details best left alone. But when Victoria finds the love of her life, her prospects are threatened by a striking resemblance to a character in a story by Henry James.
Frantic to whitewash their past, she seeks Tennessee's help, unaware that Tennessee is in the midst of her own struggle, consumed by an illicit affair with a Duchess who is not only married, but is also mistress to the Prince of Wales.

Universal link for the book on Amazon

About the Author

Carrie Hayes was born in New York City. She grew up around journalists, idealists and rule breaking women. Find her on Medium.com, Substack.com and on her upcoming podcast, Angry Dead Women.

Carrie's debut novel, Naked Truth or Equality was an Editor's Choice in the Historical Novel Review.

The Midwest Review describes her latest book, Well Dressed Lies, as "an inviting novel of intrigue, mischief, and love that invites libraries and readers to partake of a story replete in changing alliances, closely-held secrets, and social change that romps through high society relationships on both sides of the pond."

Review 

Unraveling knots and constructing ideas about this book was a genuine puzzle. It took me about two chapters just to get into the idea of the book. Which is too long when you try to capture a reader’s attention. 

“The conjugation of regular and irregular verbs in a Romance language goes a long way toward unraveling knots of anxiety in one’s mind. Remarkable, really, how one’s hesitations vanish when consumed with the construction necessary in composing ideas so that language functions not merely to communicate, but to perform. With style, as it were.” 

The three different perspectives added to the reading challenge. I think if the author had written each chapter from a different point of view, it would have been an easier read. But, since it is a rapped change within one chapter, I could not enjoy the story as I would have liked. 

I always love a good historical read with a woman finding her own voice in the mixture of plot and story. However, in Well dressed lies the plot was almost winded, and I was not sure what the purpose of the story was in the beginning. 

The synopsis suggested about these two women, Victoria Woodhull and Tennessee Claflin, have left New York under mysterious circumstances and settled in London. But this was vague, almost hidden within the voyage to Londen as people communicated with them or avoided them all together. Though they are charming, clever, and wealthy, the secrets and scandals were not clear either. 

“As a family, we rarely discussed the fallout, what would happen, how it would look, what people would choose to believe. By the time we moved to London, it almost didn’t matter. There were few people who were privy to the truth of our actual, everyday lives. Those who didn’t know us assumed we were two foolish women, who blushed at nothing, prepared to knock over anything that stood in our path. But that was false. We were not that way at all.” 

When Victoria falls in love with a man who resembles a character from a Henry James story, she fears that her identity will be exposed. She asks Tennessee for help, but Tennessee is too busy with her own troubles. She is having a forbidden affair with a married Duchess who is also involved with the Prince of Wales. 

Tennie, or Tennessee, was the more approachable, more relatable of the three. But still hard to understand. She was floating around, unsure most of the time, with no definite purpose. Waiting on a man is not a purpose. 

The third person in this book is Henry James, a man whose role within the story was unclear for quite a few chapters. He was shrouded in secrets himself and I found him an out-of-place sort of bloke. “WORDS: loquacious, garrulous, voluble, periphrastic, insidious, surreptitious IDEAS: a man bereft of ideas sets out to find the love letters of a long dead poet. She to whom the letters were written agrees to grant him access, upon one condition.” 

 This is how every section of his point of view began. A strange way of introducing an author, or was it an apt way of keeping the reader’s interest? I simply could not tell. 

Overall, not a book that I would recommend. Thanks for the opportunity to read it though.

Book Review: Jim’s Pterodactyl is an intriguing novel by Andrew R. Williams.

Amazon / Goodreads   / LibraryThing / Reedsy  Book Blurb: In this egg-straordinary tale,  Jim Godwin  has an unexpected delivery that ta...