Welcome to USA Today Bestselling Author Cheryl Bradshaw's stop on the Hoppin' the Boxes tour. Today I'll be featuring the fabulous, excellent Faith Mortimer, author of the Diana Rivers series as well as many other works. Faith is also an Amazon bestselling author.
Faith Mortimer
These Eight Authors are presenting their Boxed Sets with Excerpts, Character Bios, and Prizes
And now.. I present
A DIANA RIVERS Boxed Set of 3 Murder Mystery Suspense Novels ~ Purchase Now: Amazon § Barnes § iTunes § Kobo
Welcome to the 1st Diana Rivers, Mystery Suspense Murder Boxed Set featuring the first three books in the series, ‘The Assassins’ Village’, ‘Children of the Plantation’ and ‘The Surgeon’s Blade’. All three books are Amazon bestsellers. Diana Rivers our heroine is a writer, sometime actor and amateur sleuth and loves nothing more than getting embroiled in the middle of a mystery – especially MURDER!
‘The Assassins’ Village’: Book 1
When an expatriate theatrical group gather to discuss their next play there will be murder. A blackmailer stalks their picturesque Cypriot village. Unbeknown to each other they all attempt to find solutions to their problems. Some believe it lies in murder. Can they find the blackmailer? And can they find that all important ‘little black book’ – the chronicle of their misdeeds.
A body is discovered and Diana turns detective. After the police get involved one of her suspects is found hanged – is this another murder or suicide? A visit to a villager’s home uncovers an ancient assassin’s device. Could this be the murder weapon? Is it possible that an assassin lives at the heart of this formerly peaceful and idyllic mountain village? The villagers are riven with jealousies, rivalry, sexual tension and illicit affairs. Love, hate, murder and high drama all feature in this classic detective story. With a list of suspects, some dramatic twists and the odd red herring, the reader is left guessing until the final curtain.
‘Children of the Plantation’: Book 2
After discovering the truth surrounding the bloody murders in, ‘The Assassins' Village’ our sexy, feisty sleuth and heroine, Diana Rivers and her partner Steve, decide they deserve a holiday. Relaxing at their luxurious, palm fringed plantation hotel in lush, tropical Malaysia; things don't quite work out as they imagined. Diana is approached by the hotel owner, the enigmatic & secretive Miss Chalcot to take a look through some old family documents and help find a solution to put right a dreadful forty-year old misdoing. Diana is given free rein to pursue the mysterious past of the family and discover what lies behind the dark stories. Diana enters into a world of the 1950's and 1960's, where lies, deceit, illicit love, jealousies and perhaps murder all feature. What really happened all those years ago? Who was responsible for events that shocked the whole family and plunged it into despair? And what is the real story behind the façade?
‘The Surgeon's Blade’: Book 3
Nursing sister, Libby Hunter wakes up in hospital with amnesia after a traumatic sailing accident. She finds a stranger sitting by her bedside who claims to be her fiancé. Libby remembers nothing about him. Returning home, Libby finds herself in great danger when her house is broken into. Who is the intruder and what does he want? Is this connected with a series of attacks on nurses in London and Southampton? Will Libby be the latest targeted victim? Distressed Libby turns to helicopter pilot, Robert for help and understanding, but is he as respectable and kind as he appears to be? Is her so-called fiancé, Nigel trustworthy? The night time intrusion into Libby's house sets in motion a downwards spiral of cataclysmic and terrifying events, culminating in Diana Rivers stepping in to help solve the case in this chilling mystery.
Character bio: Diana Rivers, amateur sleuth
...Some might say she's inquisitive - and some will say she's just downright nosy! I'm told she's feisty, tenacious and sexy. She's neither Miss Marple nor Jessica Fletcher. She's her own woman. Bright, forty-ish and with a mind of her own. Since her childhood she's often found herself in tricky situations, sometimes real danger, but somehow she's always come out squeaky clean - so far...
Diana lives in an old stone-house set somewhere in Cyprus and writes books; historical fiction, thrillers, action and romantic suspense among other things. She doesn't go looking for trouble but somehow… it always finds her.
Diana's interest with all things mysterious, involving human and sometimes not so human things started when she was a girl, at a boarding school in Singapore. She enjoys a good mystery and often finds herself siding with the underdog - she sums up most situations with the word; retribution. Diana likes to fight alongside the underdog, that person in the mystery or adventure who is having a hard time - often through no fault of their own. She understands everyone is human and has faults and quirks that are different from the next person. Diana too is human and makes her own mistakes - sometimes bad ones.
Traces of Diana can be found in different periods of her life, when she trod the boards, was at school or just a bare mention when she immediately grasps the answer to a query one of her friends asks her.
About Faith Mortimer
Faith Mortimer is a wife & mother, dividing her time between Hampshire, UK & Cyprus. Since childhood, she dreamed of writing novels which readers would love, and spent many hours writing short stories which she read to her sisters. Later her dreams were put on hold while she focused upon her family and careers as a nurse and later overseeing a string of travel and sport related companies. Born in Manchester and educated in Singapore, Malaya and Hampshire, England. A Registered nurse that changed careers in her later years to oversee a number of travel and sport related companies.
Follow Faith: Website § Blog § Facebook § Twitter § Pinterest § Google+
Excerpt from ‘The Assassins’ Village’: Book 1
Purchase Now : Amazon § Barnes § iTunes § Kobo
He awoke confused and disorientated, barely able to breathe, his throat obstructed. He heard a voice; soft and persistent, close to his ear. Struggling against the cotton wool seemingly stuffed in his brain, he forced open his eyes. The man squinted at the blinding light. He knew he was lying down. The agonising pain in his left leg intensified when he attempted to move it from its impossible angle. A pain as sharp as a new razor blade cut through him. He shrieked in alarm, realising his leg was broken.The whispered voice spoke again. The man looked around him in sudden panic. Who and what was all this? And why couldn’t he function properly? He tried to speak, to answer the phantom voice, but his tongue couldn’t form the words. A sudden movement and a shadow fell across his face… Raising his head, his eyes widened as he remembered being pushed over the limestone cliff into the vineyard below. But that explained nothing. Struggling, the injured man raised himself into a sitting position to confront the shadow.
A firm hand, calloused and strong, pushed him back down. ‘Keep still. You can’t get up.’The man recognised an accent. A trickle of blood rolled down between his dry, tortured lips and a thread of fear crept through him.The shadow spoke in a rasping voice. ‘Soon you will see. You must pay for all you’ve done.’ The shadow hissed in his face. A breath that was hot and sour. As the shadow bent closer the man gave a start and recoiled; he recognised his assailant. A deep chill spread through his gut despite the heat of the day. In terror, he fought at the cords binding his wrists. With desperation he cried out, spluttering through the soiled coarse cloth in his cheeks. The core of dread in his stomach spread like a foul growth of malignancy. His eyes pleaded mercy.The shadow gave a laugh, shrill and mirthless. ‘Shall I forgive you? No. I think not. Never once have I seen you give kindness. You treat all like dogs at your feet. Well, you are dirt beneath mine.’ Abruptly the shadow withdrew and walked over to a low stonewall. It returned, carrying a pair of gloves and an old leather bag. The assailant drew on the gloves, before untying a thong at the neck of the receptacle. The man watched, beads of sweat sliding down his face, then he writhed in horror, as he realised what was being thrust before him. He twisted his head aside, gagging at the revolting sight; yelling deep in his throat. ‘No! No! Please! Oh God help me!’ His words were garbled and lost.‘This is all your doing. Yours! Did you never think how you hurt me?’As the victim stared with revulsion his throat gagged and he retched. Stomach churning, he felt a warmth spread beneath his loins. Screaming in panic he tried to pull away from the calm face of his attacker, only to realise that it was futile. The end, when it came, was swift, a thrust and a sharp twist. At first, there was no wound; then the blood flowed and grew like a blossom of deep red peonies spilling their petals to hiss upon the hot honey-coloured rock. Satisfied, the assassin bent down, removed the pretty blue scarab ring from the victim’s finger, placed it in the bag and walked away without another look.But of course, this is a later scene – let the play begin…
Excerpt from ‘Children of the Plantation’: Book 2
Purchase Now :
Amazon § Barnes § iTunes § Kobo
Opening the kitchen door, Hermione spotted a vixen standing near the refuse bin. She clapped her hands, and it shot through the hedge at the bottom of the garden.
Hermione's heart was thudding in her breast as she considered what next to do. Casting a look around, she gave thanks that the clouds scudding overhead made it a dark night. This had to be done in complete privacy.
Giving herself a mental shake, she crossed the damp grass to the shed and picked up a spade. A clod of earth still clung to the sharp blade from where she had been digging in her vegetable patch earlier that afternoon. It seemed such a long time ago now. She paused, still not completely certain she was doing the right thing. Making up her mind, she walked over to the newly turned earth.
The air smelt fresh after the rain shower, and a light breeze blew the mixed garden scents her way while she dug. The hole was to be small but deep, especially as she had just driven the fox off. Satisfied, she stood back and peered down into the soft loamy material, a sorry place for such a pathetic bundle.
Sick at heart, but knowing they had no choice, Hermione laid down her spade and walked back into the kitchen. She picked up the tightly wrapped package and carried it outside; it weighed no more than a couple of pounds as she gently laid it down into the hole.
Covering it with fresh earth, she scattered pebbles around and knelt on the grass. Had there been any other choice? Whatever were they going to tell him when the time came?
Trailer for Children of the Plantation
Playing this game was a major enjoyment. It had been played many times before, and this time, it was proving even more of a thrill.
The watcher spotted her immediately. She was seated at a table for two, and from the number of times she had glanced at her watch, it was obvious she had been stood up by her date. The watcher was cautious by nature and covertly observed the woman from a chosen seat which was half-hidden in the shadows behind a potted palm. She was one of those women in their thirties who looked attractive in a quiet, unassuming way and could have been stunning if she had spent more time over her hairstyle and make-up. Her dress was an off-the-rail model, most probably from one of the departmental stores and in a different colour would have enhanced her appeal. Unfortunately, the dull fabric did nothing for her hair and skin colouring.
The watcher had seen her many times around the hospital and knew who she was. She came across as confident and sure of herself as far as her work was concerned.
She now sat alone and forlorn, casting wistful glances at those couples who sat with bent heads sharing a whisper and promise of the night to come. Minutes later, she answered a call on her mobile phone with nervous girlish pleasure, but her face paled in distress as she replaced it into her evening bag. The watcher knew instantly how easy it was going to be and smiling coldly, raised a glass with a slight movement in her direction and offered a silent toast.
Why waste time yearning over a date that would never show when your prayers have been answered, dearest girl, the watcher demanded silently. From now on, you’re mine, all mine.
Chapter 1
Three o’clock. The dead hour. It was the rain lashing against the window that woke Libby. Cursing under her breath, she glanced at her clock on the bedside cabinet and contemplated the day ahead: nearly three-thirty. She must be mad! At the end of June, the weather really should be fine. ‘Flaming June’, they called it. Well, there hadn’t been too much flaming lately. This was the fourth day in a row of seemingly endless downpours. Dratted weather! Well, she was committed to today’s race, and there was nothing she could do but put on a smiling face.
Less than an hour later, showered and dressed, Libby had a quick breakfast of toast and tea and headed for the door. Her cat followed her and meowed loudly as Libby put on her jacket. The fluffy pale ginger cat was obviously thinking her mistress was quite mad, not only for disturbing her slumber at this untimely hour, but for leaving the flat on such a cold and wet day. She sat on the rug looking quite put out.
“Okay, Rommie, I’ll see you tonight. Don’t fret. The automatic feeder is primed to open for your tea, and I’ve left you plenty of biscuits in the meantime. If you feel you can bring yourself to use the cat flap, please do, because I don’t want any little accidents before I return.”
Libby reached down and gave Rommie a final stroke, thinking the cat had the right idea. The morning so far looked awful. She had a quick look round her flat, mentally going through what she would need for the day: wet weather gear, life jacket, and sailing gloves. She noticed the framed degree certificate upon the living room wall. ‘Olivia Hunter, registered nurse.’ It was a long time since she’d been called Olivia; not since her parents had been killed. With a shrug, she picked up her bag and locked the door behind her.
Despite the foul weather, she was excited. Being chosen as part of the crew on a fast yacht for the Isle of Wight’s prestigious ‘Round the Island Race’ had a certain cachet, and she had been delighted when Nigel had chosen her.
Please be sure to check the other tour stops where you will see ....
M.P. McDonald and the Mark Taylor Omnibus
Melissa F. Miller and the Sasha McCandless Series
Sibel Hodge and the Sibel Hodge Box Set
Barbara Silkstone with the Wendy Darlin Tomb Raider Boxed Set
Cheryl Bradshaw with the Sloan Monroe Boxed Set
Christy Hayes and the Golden Rule Bundle
Donna Fasano and the Single Daddy Club Boxed Set
Giveaways!
Reader drawing is international
Grand Prize Winner : $60 Giftcard to Amazon or Barnes and all eight boxed sets
First Prize Winner: $40 Giftcard and all eight box set
Second Prize winner - 4 (winner’s choice) boxed sets
