EXTRACTS FROM THE UNSEEN – 4

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books. crime thriller, crime fiction, crime thriller, enjoy reading, fast paced crime fiction, James McKenna

To give you a taste of my book The Unseen here is an extract from the beginning of Chapter 2. Extracts will continue every Wednesday and Saturday.

Extract from CHAPTER TWO

Her back to the door, Danielle fussed over the kitchen worktop not realising Sean had entered. For seconds he surveyed her trim outline, then joined Rebecca, his hormonal fourteen year old daughter, at the table.

“Hi Dadda,” she said, not looking up while frantically scribbling homework.

“Breakfast!” Danielle called. “Eat now or be late for school.”

“I’ve gained half a pound,” Rebecca said. “I don’t do breakfast.”

“Half a pound for a young woman is nothing, please eat your cereal, it’s slimming.” Danielle placed croissants and coffee before Sean as Rebecca scooped cereal onto a spoon, holding it in the air while still scribbling with her other hand.

This appeared to satisfy both and Sean glanced between the two, his gaze slipping slowly from Danielle, her slight smile, her boyish face and pageboy hair cut always a pleasure to see. At forty he figured maybe he had started suffering middle-aged fantasies, for he never failed to imagine a sensual presence in her eyes, same time he also saw a barrier forbidding him to cross. Something about her stance, her manner and strong will made him suspect. Camilla, his ex-wife, had found Danielle through friends. Sean had no objection, she kept house, cooked his meals, looked after Sophie during the week and both girls when Rebecca visited weekends. Not that male desires had ever nudged him to cross the unspoken line, but he suspected Camilla was vindictive enough to have deliberately set him up to share house with a mature twenty-nine year old PhD student with preference for her own gender. Who cared? She was a great cook. Pity she had handed in her notice, her study time in England having run its course.

Sophie strutted in, posing at the threshold, one hand on her hip, the other against the frame. She wore her new prep school uniform, box-pleated skirt, white blouse and primrose tie. Sean felt pride and love brush the world aside.

Danielle clasped hands. “Oh Mademoiselle, vous êtes elegant et si belle. What style, what poise – please to join us for breakfast.”

Sophie’s model walk was not textbook.   Sean kissed one cheek, Danielle the other.

“So my first week at boarding school,” Sophie said. “But I am taking my computer games.” She drew a yellow play station from her skirt pocket.

Sean placed an arm to encircle her shoulders and Sophie leant her head against him. For seconds he closed his eyes. All Camilla’s demands for private schooling in exchange for unrestricted child access were worth such moments.

“My eight year old little girl is growing up, leaving home.”

“But I’ll be back next weekend, every weekend we’re not visiting Mum. So just watch out.”

“Yeah, well I’m going to be a real meanie. When Danielle leaves, the housework gets left so when you two visit you’ll be scrubbing, washing and cooking.”

“Dadda.” Rebecca looked up, chin on curled fist. “Don’t fib, you wouldn’t do that. You’re the biggest softy going. And we love you for it”

“Children, who would be a father?

“You would Dadda.” Sophie hugged him. “Because we know you’ll get a lovely housekeeper to do everything while you take us to the theme park. But if you really want us to work … but you wouldn’t, would you?

“OK so I get a housekeeper, but who’s going to look after you, my little sweetheart?”

Rebecca shuffled books into a briefcase and stood from the table. “Don’t worry, Papa, she’s got big sister to mind her.” She came round the table, her fitted skirt high over mid-thigh.

“That skirt’s too short,” Sean said, sitting straight.

“Father, get real.” She helped herself to a Ryvita. “I’m wearing 70 denier black tights, they’re the decency item. The skirt’s simply for school rules. Tell him, Danielle.”

“Les filles seront toujours des filles et les pères, toujours des pères. Eat and be happy.   Tomorrow skirts maybe long and computer games a bore.” She sat sipping coffee while the girls ate. Concentration lasted two minutes.

“Dadda, take us somewhere special next visit, please. You know Bradley took us for lunch at the Park Lane Hilton in his new Mercedes, then to the cinema. So you gotta do better.”

Sean grimaced at visions of his ex-wife’s partner, a pink shirt, highlighted hair. “Let’s be original. Let’s sightsee London top of a number 9 bus.”

“Cool.” Rebecca cracked another biscuit and moved from the table. “Can’t wait to tell my friends.”

Danielle stood and started stuffing textbooks into a monstrous shoulder bag. “OK, mademoiselles, we are late. Cases in car. Make sure you have your school work.”

Sean watched his two daughters gather equipment as they hurried from kitchen to hall, assembling coats, cases, sports bags and carriers. He hated this moment. It was Camilla’s method of absent torture. The school was only forty minutes away. Danielle could have fetched and carried, she had time. He rose when Sophie came for her hug.

“Miss you already, Dadda,” she said, clinging around his waist.

“Miss you too, little sweetheart. Have a good week.” She stretched on tiptoes as he bent to kiss her.

Rebecca came next, embracing with both arms, her cheek against his chest. Silence said more than words. Sean kissed her head. “Take care, my lovely. Call mid-week.”

“Rely on it. Bet flash Brad’s never been on a number 9. Love you, Dadda.” She returned the kiss.

Sean watched them depart in Danielle’s ancient Citroen.   He felt sadness. His girls were growing up, soon they would be growing away, vulnerable to what lay out there.

For more information about all my books go to my author’s page on Amazon at http://tinyurl.com/q2ta3z6

EXTRACTS FROM GLOBAL RAIDER – 3

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books. crime thriller, crime fiction, crime thrillers, enjoy reading, fast paced crime fiction, James McKenna

To give you a flavour of my book Global Raider here is another extract from Chapter 1. Extracts will continue every Tuesday and Friday.

The air rocked and Al Razi’s body jerked as his head disintegrated under impact from the single round out of Anderson’s rifle. “Citizenship revoked.” He looked to Seb and grinned. “Perks of being Rupert’s nanny.”

Seb looked to the splatter of brain and blood covering his hands and weapon but his relief was huge and thankful. “Withdraw to RV. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he shouted, pushing the flask so it wedged against his skin under the strap of his belt kit, the same time counting heads as his team made a tactical withdrawal from the shattered convoy. No one down, he thought and called on his UHF link. “Pumas to pick up. Two minutes.”

The clatter of a tracked vehicle became audible and a searchlight beam cut through the night. Seb answered with a snatched burst from the AK. The resulting darkness lasted moments before a parachute flare burst overhead. An APC stood ten metres back from the smouldering truck, its turret swinging before a heavy machine gun clattered round towards their retreating line.

Seb dropped simultaneously with the team. Again the night became a crash of noise, the ground pocked and chopped by the strike of rounds as the APC searched for range. Seb rolled, pulled a weapon propelled grenade from his kit, fitted it to the barrel of his rifle and fired. He was shouting, shouting as his men were shouting, their voices momentarily lost under the exploding grenade. This wasn’t meant to happen. The al-Qaeda camp would be swarming by now.

Amidst the torrent of gunfire between APC and Seb’s team, two silver bolts cut the black sky and turned the APC to molten metal. The eruption shuddered the ground, the sound vibrating through the air, impacting on Seb’s eardrums so even his own voice sounded as if called from a distant place. Blood red flames billowed out across the desert floor, a rolling fireball veined with black acrid smoke. Within seconds the eruption had evaporated back into the stillness of night leaving small isolated patches of burning oil.   The APC no longer existed.

Anderson stood. “Fucking hell, God’s on our side. Where did that come from?”

Seb also stood. “I can guess. Additional firepower received,” he said into his mike, transmitted by CP and sat-com to Global Hawk control.

“Hope it did the trick. Service courtesy of USAF.”

“It did the trick.” Sean looked to the star encrusted sky.

“Well yer ain’t seen nothing yet. Just wait for Global Raider.”

Take a look at my author’s page on Amazon http://tinyurl.com/q2ta3z6

EXTRACTS FROM GLOBAL RAIDER – 2

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books. crime thriller, crime thriller, crime thrillers, enjoy reading, fast paced crime fiction, James McKenna

To give you a flavour of my book Global Raider here is another extract from Chapter 1. Extracts will continue every Tuesday and Friday.

Ruperts do have their uses, Seb thought as he listened to the team’s radio acknowledgement. In his mind he knew each person was aware that if a convoy took just ten minutes to arrive, so could three hundred al-Qaeda. A Puma helicopter with a second on standby would have been alerted for their run to the RV, waiting on his order to pick up when safe. For a clean withdrawal the time factors became crucial. He remembered words from his boss, Colonel Fox, that to lead men you had to be at one with them, mentally and physically. To give them confidence and get them the hell out of any position when they were being shot to pieces. “Stand to,” he said and looked back to the night. The tension left his body under a surge of adrenalin. This was his life, what he had trained for. He felt totally focussed. The target was Dr Al Razi, a British mullah and long known supporter of al-Qaeda. Left to preach his hatred in London and travel at will, Al Razi had just collected some of Syria’s stolen anthrax. His intended place of distribution, the British populous.

Seb shifted the butt of his rifle and took grip of the stock. As Rupert it was his duty to ensure Al Razi stayed in the desert. Long, silent minutes passed which left him time to think. Execution would need anger, hatred.

“Hawk to Desert Snatch, convoy now traversing hillside to your position. ETA three minutes.”

“Roger that,” Seb answered. He felt calm now, an inner control filled with solid determination. Every sense became alert to the stillness, the slow encroaching sound of engines. He wanted these bastards, this little shit Al Razi who would kill thousands in satisfaction of self-righteous bigotry.

“All positions fire on my action.” Seb gave his last order and squinted through the night optic sight, watching the lead vehicle come round the hillside, a Toyota FWD with twin mounted machine guns over the cab. Full blaze headlights cut across their position and the desert floor, sweeping down the track as the second vehicle came into view, an enclosed landcruiser. Target vehicle, Seb was certain. He felt Jock shift the Barrett to aim at its engine cover. Last vehicle was an open truck carrying a dozen armed men.

“See you in paradise,” Jock whispered.

“No way, we’ll piss this.” Seb took first pressure on his trigger and listened to the sat-com earpiece come to life.

“Hawk to Desert Snatch. A tracked vehicle has also left the compound, possibly an APC, repeat, armoured vehicle ETA your location eight minutes.”

“Shit.” Now or never. Seb squeezed the trigger and put a series of three round bursts into the landcruiser’s side windows. Beside him the heavy calibre discharge of the Barrett imploded on his eardrums.

A crescendo of ear stunning noise came instantly amidst flickering darts of light. Flame spat across the black velvet sky from the single rounds of the massive Barrett sniper weapons while the snatched, chattering fire of HKG3s and AK74 assault rifles gave constant barrage. Seb shouted the last message from Global Hawk over his UHF.

Return fire from the convoy terminated within sixty seconds. Sergeant Pete Shaffer on the opposite side of the track called ceasefire. The sudden cessation of noise returned the desert to stillness, the silence only disturbed by the crackle of flames from the rear truck and intermittent cries of the wounded.

Seb pushed up from the dugout, Jock beside him, the heavy Barrett cradled in his arms. Half a dozen bodies shadowed the desert floor, fanned out from the vehicles like scattered clothes bags.

“Move it.” Seb heard the order from Pete Shaffer as he came out of his hole. Figures emerged from the desert floor, all running at a crouch, all knowing they had minutes before an enemy armoured vehicle arrived.

Seb was within twenty feet when the fuel tank on the rear truck exploded. In the shock of fire, three of the supposed dead stood up and ran, four more figures leaped from the back, two of them ablaze. The team’s response came immediately, their weapons raking the night with fire, twitching bodies as they scattered and fell. Seb kept running for the landcruiser, his sole objective to secure the canister of anthrax, the rest was now Pete Shaffer’s; except for Al Razi, whom he hoped was dead.

The landcruiser sat fat and dark on deflated tyres, the windscreen and front side window shattered. Smoke and steam drifted from under the bonnet. Seb threw open the rear door and stood ready to fire. The driver was dead, so was the man beside him. In the back a thin bearded guy sat in petrified silence, eyes and mouth wide open, hands raised.

“Where is it?” Seb jabbed with his rifle barrel. Sitting in the back of the only air-conditioned vehicle this had to be Al Razi.

“I don’t know what you mean.” The cleric spread his hands.

“Then fucking die.” Seb took aim.

“Here.” The guy grabbed a briefcase from behind the seat and held it in offering.

Seb snatched it onto the ground, flipped the catches and pushed up the lid. Inside lay a steel flask wedged by polystyrene. Jock had the tail open, throwing aside items while searching through other baggage.

“Is this it?” Seb took out the canister and pushed it into his shirt. “Tell me or I kill you now!”

“All of it, no more. They kept the rest.”

“Nothing here,” Jock said.

“Out, out.” Seb grabbed the cleric’s shirt, hauling him over the seat, trying to think of him as a mass murdered. He had never killed in cold blood.

Global Hawk sounded in his earpiece. “Sit-rep.”

“Anthrax secure,” Seb answered.

“Execute courier. Then immediate evacuation, additional firepower imminent,” Hawk replied.

“Roger that.” He turned the AK74 back to Al Razi. Seb wished to hell he had no conscience. He had to do this, had to. He took first pressure on the trigger, swallowed hard and paused, paused long enough to know he couldn’t finish it.

“I have human rights. I am from London, British citizen, you cannot shoot me.”

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MEDITATIONS FROM A BAR STOOL 4

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books. crime thriller, crime novel, enjoy reading, James McKenna, scary, The Unseen.

Meet the strangers within you.

Strangers, how can that be?  You are who you are, there is only one you.  But not if you are a writer or actor.

Actors have to become the characters they portray, while writers the characters they invent and make vivid with words.  To be a good writer you must become the character you write about.  You must know how they behave, think, react, dress.  What makes them scared, brave, angry, sad?

In my crime thriller novels, The Unseen, The Uncounted and The Unwanted, my protagonist, Sean Fagan, is a large, dependable policeman with a failed marriage, two teenaged daughters, a liking for Guinness, class music and Victoria Lawless, his girlfriend.

Fine, you say, easy character for a male writer to portray.  True, especially if I base his behaviour similar to some of my own.  But when I write from Victoria’s point of view, then I have to mentally change gender.

To truthfully portray her character so the reader believes in her, I must understand her passions, her motivations, her anger.  I must be inside her body to feel the joy of her love making, her sweat, her fear; what clothes she likes, her feelings towards others and the forces which drive her.  I must become Victoria Lawless, in mental vision and physical presence.  If I do not, the reader will see a shallow character, one they cannot believe in.  In which case I fail as a writer.

So, there are two strangers I have, but darker ones lurk in the deep recesses of a writer’s mentality.

In The Unseen I have a brutal psychopath named Zoby who butchers his victims and keeps body parts as trophies.  To portray him as a believable mad man I have to look inside his mind and understand why he commits the horrors he does.  What are his thoughts, his motivations, his pleasures?  I have to become Zoby in the same way I became Sean and Victoria.  That can be scary.  For Zoby and his actions are inventions of my mind.  This is what I mean when I say meet the strangers within you.  Read The Unseen and meet some of my strangers.  Read The Unseen http://tinyurl.com/c3yjc9l

More about characters in my next set of meditations from a bar stool.  How to change gender, how to think like a killer.

Go to my website http://www.crimefiction-jamesmckenna.co.uk

MEDITATIONS FROM A BAR STOOL 3

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books. crime thriller, crime fiction, good read, James McKenna, scary, The Unseen.

Across the world the divide between those who have and those who have not, never seems to lessen.  The curses of disease, famine and war always circle over humanity.  For many, disease is slowly being controlled but with a long road still to travel.  Famine arises from drought and man’s indifference to man while war arises from the power lust of a few.

In my young adults’ book, The Witch’s Shadow, Lady Lucy says “War be the stupidity of kings and greed.”

True, except in modern times, instead of kings there are dictators, corrupt politicians and religious fanatics.  Stir in their craving for wealth and power over the masses and it’s not surprising the result is war.  Unfortunately, such horror usually falls on the poor and down trodden with the West acting as policeman, throwing in help against the fanatics and the dictators.

But for those in the West who sit before their computers with full belly and bank account, beware.  The fanatical few can still ensnare you.  A new and dark element has entered the Internet via the use of subliminal psychotic induction (SPI) or subliminal hypnosis transmitted over the Internet.

SPI was widely used in the West during the mid 20^th century with subliminal advertising on TV and in cinemas, until it was made illegal in America.  Subliminal hypnosis is implemented by images or words repeatedly flashed on a screen so fast they do not register with the conscious mind, but are picked up by the subconscious mind.  Buy this product, buy that product, be afraid.  In result some people felt scared without knowing why.  During the interval or in the supermarket next day they bought goods advertised under SPI, thinking their need for the product was their own decision.  They had been influenced by mass subliminal hypnosis but what if the message had been, vote for this politician, obey the police, pay your taxes, go to war.  Scary.  No wonder it was made illegal. Think of the influence it would have on children and the unaware.   I say this because SPI has returned via the Internet.  Any person who stares at a computer, iPad or phone screen can be affected.

Internet security is notoriously fragile.  Hackers do damage to multinational companies, banks, even a country’s security.  I have tried to highlight the dangers in my crime fiction novel, The Unseen, available on Amazon and Kindle.

If hackers can enter your computer the quantity of subliminal messages they might leave is horrendous to imagine.  Drive to an isolated location, set fire to a school, kill your neighbour.

Not everyone is affected.  If you don’t want to do something then subliminal hypnosis will not make you do it, but if you’re uncertain, even without opinion on the request, then you may well do it, even if you cannot reason why.

Imagine how it could affect a nation if a government began to use SPI via a big service provider.  What if politicians were subjected to SPI, what outrageous laws could be passed?  What if your child or other family member became a victim?  You cannot defend yourself against something you don’t even know exists.  Unrealised mental indoctrination can affect everyone.  But of course no government would use it on the masses, would they?

Read The Unseen http://tinyurl.com/c3yjc9l

My website http://www.crimefiction-jamesmckenna.co.uk

 

MEDITATIONS FROM A BAR STOOL 2

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books. crime thriller, fast paced crime fiction, good read, James McKenna

First buy yourself a drink because if you think deeply and expand on what follows, you’re going to need it, maybe a large one.

How do you prove you exist?  Not so daft as it sounds because only your own mind confirms your existence.  The 17^th century French philosopher, René Descartes arrived at this belief with the statement “I think therefore I am.”

I can accept that. If you think, then you exist.  You see the world, the stars, the mountains, all exist within the sphere of your mental senses.  However, that leaves a question.  I think therefore I am doesn’t prove anybody else exists, save through your own intellectual interpretations giving them existence.

Does one even have a bodily existence?  Is the universe and all it contains the invention of your mind?  Perhaps you are no more than a mental entity floating somewhere favourable to your survival.

Imagine, without you mind, for you, the whole universe, the human race, everything bar nothing, would not be real.  Lying out in the desert staring up at a trillion stars is a great environment for contemplating such thoughts.  When searching over the heavens, all seems possible.

It’s where I first had ideas about settings for my Mind Traveller series, where Rosie ventures into Mind Space and joins the White Angels in their war against the Dark Angels.  And here’s another thought, if you are the singular thinking entity in your universe, you are also responsible for all good and evil in that universe, for without you, the universe you see cannot exist.  Everything depends on your mind.

So, if you want to change the world all you have to do is do it.  Come on, rid the world of poverty. Did it happen? No.  So if you’re the only thinking entity in the universe it means you’re not in control of your mind.  Better buy yourself a drink because if you’re not in charge of you mind, who is?

I think therefore I am.  But could it just be someone else is also thinking that?  Which means you’re not Master of the Universe after all, or maybe each of us has our own universe with each affecting the others’ brains.

I should never have drunk that last beer.

Go to Amazon and have a look at The Mind Traveller available for free until this Friday http://tinyurl.com/njld54r

My website http://www.crimefiction-jamesmckenna.co.uk 

My Amazon’s Author Page http://tinyurl.com/c9ultl3

MEDITATIONS FROM A BAR STOOL

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books, books. crime thriller, crime fiction, enjoy reading, good read, James McKenna, The Unseen.

When sitting on a bar stool watching people go by, the world seems a far more amiable place than when reading an unjust tax demand.  It’s also a good place to consider the various aspects of life, from sex to age to politics.

Not that I find much time for sitting on bar stools.  Most days, in fact every day, I spend hours writing.  When not writing I love walking.  In the country, in a town, along the coast; walking through nature, through woods, the fields or a mountainside or by a river, particularly with the ones you love, then that is the greatest joy.  The world becomes a wonderful place, far from the bitter anger and hatred fermenting in a few of the human race.

In the country I imagine scenes and places for my books, The Mind Traveller, The Witch’s Shadow and The Warrior of the Light, the countryside is empty, yet it’s full of life.

When young and in the Paras I was sent to the Gulf where I spent two years looking for insurgents and the meaning of life.  One does that when young.  On occasions, I would walk out into the desert alone.  Miles from any other human being, there I would sit and contemplate the emptiness around me, a landscape of barren rock, sand and mountain.  The desert is a beautiful and lonely place, a place where anything can happen, if you allow it.  I had been reading the contemplations of the 17^th century French philosopher Rene Descartes, “I think therefore I am” (more about that later).  So, you think therefore you are, but that doesn’t mean anybody else is.  And believe me, alone in the empty desert you can believe that completely.  It was in the desert that The Mind Traveller became a reality.

Another equally favoured place is the town or city, my choice on many occasions being London.  London gathers people from every country on the globe, yet amongst such crowds one can still be alone, a single mind observing what goes by.

People watching is absolutely essential for a writer.  It is where I find most characters for my crime thrillers, The Unseen, The Uncounted, The Unwanted plus Global Raider.  My preferred place is The Lamb and Flag, Covent Garden.  There one can perch on a bar stool and watch the world drift by.  There I have seen the faces and expressions of good and bad, villains and heroes, heroines, witches, even the occasional goddess.

So next time you sit on a bar stool, remember, not all of us are there for the beer, some of us are there to work, the beer is just so we can sit in a prime position without upsetting the landlord.

Go to my website at http://www.crimefiction-jamesmckenna.co.uk

or my author’s page on Amazon http://tinyurl.com/c9ultl3

Tanya Watt talks with James McKenna about his work

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books. crime thriller, enjoy reading, fast paced crime fiction, good read

1. HOW LONG DOES A BOOK TAKE TO WRITE
2. Never less than a year. Then I shelf the MS leaving it to ferment another year while writing a second MS. I wrote Global Raider 20 years ago but had no luck with publishers. One of them turned it down saying America did not have pilotless bombers and if they did, the USA would never use them to bomb Afghanistan. Because I always believed in the book, last year I dug it out and rewrote the story to concur with present time, injecting the meticulous details and structure I require for all my work. Like good wine, manuscripts should be allowed to mature until perfect.
3. WHAT ARE THE HARDEST SCENES TO WRITE
4. Scenes describing sex and I don’t mean porn or bondage, that’s lust. I mean the intimate participation in the union of love. This involves mental and emotional description as much as physical. Are both giving, is one giving and the other taking? As the portrayal of love usually involves principal protagonists, their reactions to love making must be within character and the storyline.
5. WHAT INSPIRED ME TO WRITE GLOBAL RAIDER
6. Having spent 7 years in the military I have always been interested in the advancing technology of weapons. Since the fall of the sword to arrows, then musket and cannons, it has been weaponry which decides battles. The more advanced the weapons, the more chance of winning. If Global Raider had been around 30 years ago many wars might have been prevented by taking out the principal bad guy in round one. America is close to this with the development of the top secret SR 72.
7. WHERE IS YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE TO WORK
8. I have a house in Portugal overlooking my vineyard to forests and mountains beyond. Sitting at my desk this is the view I see from the window. On shelves around me are reference books, dictionaries and encyclopaedias from 1887. But the most beneficial item is silence. Silence allows a writer to retreat into the mind’s imagination and gather words. That’s the place I like best.
9. DO YOU HAVE ANY ADVICE FOR OTHER WRITERS
10. Always carry a notebook and pen. Ideas pop from the recesses of the mind and unless written down immediately are frequently forgotten. Books are like a construction, built word by word, sentence by sentence. They are polished, re-polished, fine-tuned, edited and proof read. Writing takes time, planning and determination. Without it you go nowhere. It got me to number 3 in the Amazon bestseller list. It did not keep me there but Global Raider might place me at number 1. I don’t write scenes too graphically. In your face reality puts many readers off. If you are uncertain about anything in your MS, think it over a month or two then go back.
11. WHAT IS YOUR NEXT PROJECT
12. I am currently working on a series called The Mind Traveller for 10-15 year olds. Writing for adults must stay within the confines of reality but for younger readers the writer can let the imagination rip. In The Mind Traveller, Rosie, a feisty 14 year old, travels into Mind Space, to places allowed by quantum physics and parallel worlds. There she encounters white and dark angels, demons, dragons and creppins, even the 17^th century British Navy. After that it’s a crime thriller in which a young woman’s search for £2.5 billion hidden by her father from a criminal family.
13. WHAT IS MY OPINION OF EBOOKS VERSUS PRINT BOOKS
14. I love books as objects, there is something emotive about clasping a well written book, seeing them lined up on shelves. All my reference books and literary classics are printed. Crime novels I hold on ebooks, the ebook is here to stay. You can download from Amazon at a quarter of the price while sitting in your armchair. Ebooks are a great invention, but printed books will always hold their own.

Go to James McKenna’s author page on Amazon http://tinyurl.com/c9ultl3

 

 

My first review of Global Raider!

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books. crime thriller, enjoy reading, fast paced crime fiction, good read, James McKenna

Tanya Watt rated a book

Global Raider

by James McKenna

Want to Read

I’m going to start by saying…WOW!

If what you’re looking for is an action packed, political, edge of your seat story, then stop now, and pick up Global Raider!

I had a hard time putting this book down. Every time I told myself I had to stop, something important would happen. Global Raider is a well written story that grabbed my interest from the start and I easily surrendered my nights to James McKenna’s excellent writing talents. This man sure knows how to add those tiny details that make the story so much better!

There are many characters in this book, each playing an important part in the story. It’s hard to tell who you can trust, the big question is… Who’s on who’s side, and who’s the enemy?

I could go on and on about Global Raider…OR, you could just pick it up and find out for yourself. You won’t be disappointed, I promise!

I was gifted with Global Raider from the author to help me create his book trailer.

Buy from Amazon at http://tinyurl.com/m93py6w

 

My latest novel Global Raider

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books. crime thriller, fast paced crime fiction, good read, love and betrayal

My new book Global Raider is out now in paperback or ebook from Amazon at http://tinyurl.com/m93py6w

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