Archive | July 2017

Kindle Unlimited

Have you discovered Kindle Unlimited yet? Do you buy a lot of books? If you do, then you really need this.

I had no idea until recently what it was, I actually thought I was in it because it was there on all the book pages I visited.

It was only when I came to put in my own books I realised you had to join and you get a free months trial, which I have just taken out.

It’s basically a library with thousands of book. Most of the which you normally end up buying. But why when you can have them for free?

You are allowed up to ten books on your Kindle at one time. So read and remove so you always have space. I’ve downloaded a couple and want to read those before I start looking for more, but I usually come across them anyway, but now I can go and download without having to pay.

Authors get paid per page you read, so if you do get one, read a few pages first, not only does the author see some income, you can decide whether or not you like it. If you don’t, you just remove it.

So what better way to start than a thriller?  The Truth Will Out is available on Amazon US and UK.

Please read the first few pages first!


Set in 2005




Early Morning

20273549_456807031359111_137277106_oYesterday it rained solidly so when I awoke and the sun was blazing through the curtains, I decided to go on an early morning walk. Everything was fresh and new and it set me up for the day. Sometimes it is the simple things that give the most pleasure.

I walked into the village and up a small hill which gives the lovely views over the fields. As I turned to look at where I had come from I could even see the Snowdonia mountain range in the distance.


Descending down the other side I saw the sheep had congregated together and looked like as if they were waking from a night’s sleep. I had no idea sheep did that and it was a pleasure to see.


A small Hydrangea bush caught my attention next as I walked further up the road. There were some bungalows set back and I wondered someone had planted it on the verge. It looked really pretty.


I wandered towards the A55 roundabout where the bridge goes over the road and looked at the passing traffic. I had to wait a moment or two before a car came.

This is the road used by lorries carrying goods heading towards the ferry that will carry them over to Dublin. At this time of year, the holidaymakers are on their way to one of the many caravan and camping sites or beaches in the area.

It’s busy at this time of year, but not so much in the early mornings. I stood here awhile contemplating, and I couldn’t help but think of Manchester, where I used to live. It has a constant flow of nose-to-tail traffic with seemingly never ending roadworks that caused constant chaos, noise, and pollution.

As the birds sang, I felt a million miles away from there, instead of the two-hour drive to return.  It was only on a recent overnight visit that I realised the city never does sleep. There is always a constant hum of people, cars, sirens, planes, and music. I have become so used to the peaceful nights only interrupted by the bark of a dog and in the mornings the sound sheep or horses. This quietness doesn’t suit everybody, but it does me.



A Gold Award Reviews

the secret ebookGetting a Gold Book worm from the Readers Review Room

This book is listed as a romantic suspense novel, but to me, it is a tender coming-of-age story about a young Irish lass named Kerry. Not only is it a coming-of-age story, it is now one of my favorite books in this genre.

Coming of age stories tell the transition of a child into an adult. While we meet Kerry when she is the age of a young adult, her sweet, earnest ways make her seem like a younger person. “I remembered that life was innocent and simple. It was just the people who soured it.”

It is the 1970’s and Kerry lives with her mother, step-sister, and step-father in Manchester, England. Kerry and her Mom were originally from Ireland, but came to live with Bill after Kerry’s father died. At the beginning of the book, it seems as if Kerry has an ordinary life with a job and boring boyfriend. But the reader will soon become aware that Kerry has a secret.

At least, Kerry thinks it’s her secret. I’m sure that most readers and all those around her, including her friends, her new love Tommy and his family have a good idea of what is troubling her. Her attempts to seem “normal” make her even more young, fragile and appealing. Kerry tries so hard to be brave. “No one could know what went on in my house. It was my secret.”

The author give us some meaningful word pictures of Kerry. For example, Tommy sees her as his Snow White, which is also what Kerry’s father had called her. Giving her this fairy-tale quality highlights her as sweet and young. Kerry enjoys running, which can be seen symbolically as her running from her problems. Throughout her story, I was rooting for her to overcome her demons.

“Kerry, you are beautiful, both inside and outside. That’s how you are. That’s how I see you.

Author Mossman writes with an engaging, readable style and has created many other memorable characters including Kerry’s family and Tommy and his friends and family. The story moves forward with lovely scenes that will draw readers in to Kerry’s poignant world. This book is expressive, and moving; even with the seriousness of Kerry’s problem, it is a positive, affirming and tender story.

I highly recommend this book and I would say that this is one of the best books I have read recently. Well-done Ms. Mossman. I‘m so happy that the author has written other books and I look forward to reading them!

I hope the author will forgive me one suggestion- the book cover, while alluring, does not convey the book’s sweet power and charm. If it is possible, I would change the cover, so that readers will know they will be reading a lyrical and moving tale.

The Secret was an interesting story. I didn’t know it had sensitive contents in it, but I still read the whole book.

Tommy was my favorite character. He is charming, sweet as hell, and cares deeply for Kerry. She’s never told her secret to anyone … until it happens again and she can’t go on living that way anymore and has to tell that secret.

What Kerry went through was horrible and I’m glad Tommy & his Dad “took care of it.”Overall, I did enjoy the story and it had a wonderful ending!

– Veronique Porier
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I was given a complimentary copy of this book, and I am giving my honest review of this title. The Secretby author Karen Mossman is spectacular in it’s simplicity. I was instantly surprised at how this book captured me. I was pulled into the story. Kerry is an ordinary girl with a boring life, and a tool for a boyfriend.

The story starts out in turmoil and quickly develops into a full fledged drama of Kerry’s life. She has a mother that seems to be blind to everything, a young sister who she loves and protects, and a stepfather, Bill who together with his slimy friend make Kerry’s life miserable. Keeping the truth from everyone in her life about her home life, both past and present was an inner turmoil that Kerry had to face. Combine the home life with the want and need for true love, something she has never experienced until Tommy walks through the door, and you have every element for a great story.

I believe that in true life situations most “victims” would keep these things to themselves as Kerry did. Most victims find themselves alone and scared, not knowing what “they” did to deserve such things to happen to them.

I felt for Kerry instantly, the descriptions and characterizations are wonderfully done. Karen Mossman took a difficult subject and delicately wove the story together beautifully. I read this book in one sitting. Yes it is a story of under 150 pages but it is the way it is written that takes you away. I have read many books, short and long. Some I wanted to throw out after the first 10 pages, and some were torturous to get through at all. This book was a pleasure to read. I would give it a 5+ review!

I would recommend this title to 16 and up. Yes, there are some touchy areas within the book but I personally feel that these “touchy” areas should be openly discussed at a young age with young men and woman.

Margaret Daly

Stepping Back in Time

The Railway

On my recent travels during June I was fortunate to take a steam train ride in Keighley, Yorkshire. The dark crimson painted station and carriages were really a step back to a bygone era.

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This was the bridge that Jenny Agutter waved her red knickers from in The Railway Children.

A lot of it was filmed on this line and at the stations, we passed along the way. I couldn’t remember the film in detail, but it was all quite easy to imagine looking at the landscape. I believe the film Yanks with Richard Gere was also filmed on one of these stations, too.





The porters and the ticket collectors all looked very smart in their uniforms. All of them were volunteers. I was lucky enough to go on a day where it was fairly quiet and so was able to enjoy everything at my leisure. We went into a private compartment at first and on the return journey into the public one. It reminded me of those trains that used to have a corridor running one side and each compartment had a sliding door. In the public section, there was a buffet car and it was pleasant drinking coffee and watching the countryside go by.

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This was one of the small engine, and I remembered the large ones from my childhood. My dad would let us all out of the car at a level crossing to stand by the gate. Hearing the steam engine approaching was one of the most exciting things ever! I can still recall how my stomach fluttered as we were all covered in steam!

The waiting room and the toilet were all spotlessly clean, glossily painted. I can’t think when in my life I ever felt compelled to take a photograph of a toilet cistern before, but here is it!  Once more, I was taken back to my childhood where we all had cubicles with the flushing tank high up and a chain to pull. We still use the expression  ‘pulling the chain’ even though it is more of a handle now.





Ricky Goes to School

by Karen J Mossman

I want to tell you a story….. yes, tell you a story, so in conjunction with my YouTube channel, you can listen to a tale about a dog called Ricky. Afterward, come back here the photographs will make more sense! I’ve also asked for similar stories and they are listed below.

One day back in the early 1960s, Ricky came to school with me and stayed all day.

Unfortunately, I don’t have many pictures of Ricky. He was a typical terrier mongrel dog. In the picture are my parents, mum holding Ricky, mum’s sister holding her poodles and my grandparents.  My little sister sneaked on the end.

Scan 9 (3)

Our lovely Sally

Sally, our rough collie dog.

Wellington Rd

This is in Moira’s back garden where we played and our friends played in the foundations of a house that didn’t get built. I’m the one in the centre, and on the right of the photo is my brother and sister.

Readers Stories

From Linda Collier, Manchester

Not a dog story but a cat one. While my daughters were at primary school we had a cat called Barney. He was a real character.

I remember one day he had gone out and the girls had gone to school. The next thing I knew, Sarah came home with Barney in her arms. Apparently, Sarah was in class and the windows were open. Part way through the lesson Barney jumped in and went straight to Sarah. The teacher told her to quickly take the cat home.

Luckily we lived across the road from the school so she was only out of class for about 5 minutes. I had to make sure Barney was kept in for the rest of the school day. He never got into school again (I think they kept the window shut) although he used to wander over and play with the children in the playground.

That sort of thing would never happen with the cat we have now – Smudge is a very scared cat and rarely goes out.He only has to hear someone knock at the door and he hides behind the settee!

#Blogiversary #ETLBW is ONE!! #Giveaway #OneYearOld #Bloggers #Books #Editing #ThankYou

What a wonderful story. Emma is a fighter and she has had her just rewards.
Like Emma, this blog is a year old and I love it too. I also moved over from blogger and never looked back.
Follow Emma, do the Rafflecopter giveaway and enjoy the books she posts about. Her enthusiasm is catching!

Emma The Little Bookworm

Well, I cannot believe it has been a year since I started my lovely little blog!


To be fair though, I actually started a few weeks before this anniversary over on blogger but moved to wordpress a year ago.

I have had such an amazing year in terms of all things bookish.

I spent six-months training to become an editor, those months were some of the hardest of my life. I had gone from earning £35k+ a year to nothing, practically overnight. That is a massive shortfall in any household and it really did put a strain on my not so little family. My husband was wonderful though. He supported me unconditionally. He knew that I couldn’t go back to working stupid hours, out of the house, away from the kids, and for nothing but the financial reward – it was hell. So, we muddled through. Then…

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A Persistence of Owls

by Judith Rook


Marjorie Broadbent was an all-time good friend, best neighbour, dependable helper and highly efficient handler of objects that could be collected. She had once been intrigued by a television programme which taught her one could attend auctions, buy things, then a few weeks later, return the objects for re-auction, and probably turn a little profit out of the enterprise. All that was needed was time, a car and persistence.

Marj began to buy and sell. She became well known in local auction rooms, and she began to pick up knowledge about the things whiåch people, perhaps now dead, had once used and found attractive.

She was successful because her scale was small, and the items she offered were modest and in good condition. She ran her own personal and private collectables exchange, and the foundation of her small economy was people’s never-failing desire to acquire quality at rock-bottom prices.

She invested not the slightest iota of emotional involvement in her material capital; Marj acquired, but she didn’t keep. She circulated the currency and took out the profit.

However, over time, she realised one item never found a second buyer. Although it had been taken to many auction days it had returned home, quietly and determinedly tucking itself into a corner of one of her cardboard boxes.

It was the terra-cotta figure of an owl; wings held against its body, head slightly forward, coloured as no natural owl would ever have appeared, with the brightest of pink eyes. In terms of sensible aesthetic appeal the owl was strange, somewhat embarrassing, and Marj often wondered why she had chosen it in the first place.

She tried all the moves she could think of to find it another home. She displayed it against attractive backgrounds; she tried selling it as part of a miscellaneous box. The box sold, but the owl was taken out and left behind.

In the guise of an ordinary buyer she would pick it up and exclaim over its unique character; she surreptitiously placed it among items brought in by others. It didn’t sell. It seemed determined not to be traded. But Marj also was determined, and the owl made regular appearances.

One heady day, a nice-looking lady bid for the owl and got it at Marj’s last, desperate reserve price – two dollars. As the figure was handed over, Marj noticed what seemed to be a twitch, a fumble, and the lady almost dropped it; but she recovered herself and carried the owl out of the auction room.

The door closed behind her, and Marj pumped the air in genteel triumph. Almost immediately the lady returned, spoke to the auctioneer, then came across to offer the owl to Marj again, with the explanation it wouldn’t actually match the décor of her lounge after all, and could she please have her money back.

At the end of the transaction, following a brief trip around the auction room, Marj returned to the owl.

“All right, you win. Which do you want?” She held out her hands. In one was a carved wooden owl with outspread wings, appearing anxious and down-trodden, and in the other a glass owl, looking unbearably smug.

That day, Marj went home with three owls. Now she has fifty-three, and each one has a distinct and different personality. Other items continue to bounce in and out, but the owls collect and stay; and at their centre, successful in intention and persistence, is the owl with the pink eyes.

© 2014


A Persistence of Owls

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