– ‘The Magic Of Wor(l)ds’ blog is a hobby, reviews and other bookish stuff on this site are done for free. –
Today I’m on the ‘The Bride’s Trail (Trail Series #1)’ blogtour, organised by Love Books Group Tour.
To promote AA Abbott her book I have an excerpt, but b
About the Author :
English thriller writer AA Abbott’s real name is Helen Blenkinsop, but like JK Rowling, she wanted to . She loves city life, having lived and worked in London, Birmingham and Bristol. Her crime thrillers, set in Birmingham and London, sizzle with suspense, twists and the evils of office politics.
Helen’s books are available in a dyslexia-friendly large print as well as standard paperback and Kindle editions.
Her Trail Series follows the fortunes of glamorous blonde Kat White, a party girl who finds her purpose making vodka, shrewd businessman Marty Bridges, and manipulative East End crime lord Shaun Halloran.
This great story, packed with twists and turns, begins in London’s smart Fitzrovia and ends in secret tunnels below central Birmingham.
Ross has a swanky penthouse and a high-flying job in the City. When he meets Kat, a glamorous blonde croupier, he starts to plan a future. Now she’s disappeared, he’s devastated.
Casino boss Shaun realises it’s not just Kat who’s vanished – £20,000 is missing too. He wants his money back and he’s after Kat’s blood.
Young graduate Amy has discovered Kat’s stolen her ID for a sham marriage. She can’t stand Ross, but only he will help her find Kat and clear her name.
High stakes, twists, action and suspense keep the pages turning in A.A. Abbott’s crime thriller, the first in the Trail Series.
Ross finished his breakfast quickly and returned to his iPad. The train had just left Birmingham International station when he nudged her.
“What?” Amy had started to doze off. She had a sleep deficit to make good.
Ross was looking pleased with himself again. “I’ve just been playing online poker. I won back the cost of our train fares and hotel.”
“It’s all about maths,” Ross explained, adding cuttingly, “Kat would understand.”
“Well done,” Amy said grudgingly. “Remind me never to play poker against anyone, especially not an actuary, and most of all, not you.”
Birmingham New Street was the next stop, a warren of white tunnels, silvery escalators and sliding doors. “For crying out loud,” Ross grumbled as they stood on the escalator.
“What’s the problem?” Amy was puzzled.
“Nobody’s moving.” Although in London, there would have been two lines of people, those on the left racing past the stationary passengers on the right, here everyone stood still.
“It’s not the Tube, Ross,” Amy said, suppressing a grin.
Still impatient, Ross insisted they took a taxi from the station.
“Are you sure?” the driver asked when Ross barked the name of their hotel. “It isn’t far.”
“Just drive there,” Ross said, in his usual imperious manner.
The driver looked sympathetically at Amy, and shrugged. Three minutes later, he delivered them to the Malmaison hotel, a few hundred metres away from the station.
Copyright © 2015 A.A. Abbott
The Magic Of Wor(l)ds