The Big Bang for Eva and Dan

On rare  moments between tracking scumbags, escaping and downing glasses of cold Pinot Grigio, PI Eva Roberts takes early runs along the  seafront for sanity and health

So I’ve been busy lately working an several angles with my good friends Dan Bradley and Eva Roberts, intrepid private detectives working hard-to-handle cases  across Essex and London.

Fight Club Mystery

First off we began to investigate a fight club with some rather dodgy shennanigans centring around the club owner and a missing model. The case continues, but other matters became more pressing.

The Bratislava Brat – a danger seeking missile?

Next we began to help another friend protect a girl from Bratislava who’d been trafficked into a sorry business up in Preston, but ran away from the perps and North West police, only to fall straight into Eva Roverts’ lap. As if Eva needed any more of that trouble. But maybe this girl is just too hot a potato for the Roberts Bradley agency to deal with. The case continues.

Sex, Lies and Sequins…  with a Razor’s Edge

Finally, I’ve been looking at the exploits of Dan and Eva back in 2011. It seemed a whole lot of people were lying to them back then, especially when it came to the case of runaway family man Charlie Rowntree. When they tracked him down to South London, they uncovered something so risque and dangerous it could have destroyed their agency, their relationship and even their lives. The ripples of what happened in that story stretched far indeed. And when they untangled he web of sleaze and depravity involved, it almost sucked Dan Bradley straight into the pit, then took Eva for a joyride she’d never wanted to have taken in her whole life.

Stay tuned.  Sex and Lies  in the form of the next Roberts Bradley release “Out With A Bang” is coming at you very soon. You’ll turn the pages so fast, you’re fingers will be smoking.

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Raising The Flag of Jerkdom or Self Pub Works In Spite of The Jerks

Solomon Carter – not always angry

Today for some reason I’m pretty angry. I don’t know why. Last Friday night I came home from the day job planning a righteous weekend and a week off. By six pm I was ready to hurl, coming down with some stomach bug. Black Canary (aged 6 months) threw first at 6pm. Then me at 7pm. Then me again at 9pm. Then Mrs Carter at 11pm. Batman (3 years 4months) beat us all by two whole days.

Since then I’ve been finding myself a little hard to bear, a bit jaded, a  bit angry.  I don’t like being angry, but this modern life thing is so hectic that I find myself kind of angry a fair bit of the time.  I don’t act it out. I just harbour it. Not good either way.

Raising the Flag of Jerkdom

So then this morning, Mothers Day, and I am up early, thinking about ways to make it a good day, but I’m unusually angry and I read something on self publishing on the Huff Post. It may have been an old thread, I think it was, by some jerk with a beard wanting to stir up some self-pub anger against himself so as to get some extra clicks. Journos love that, like we all do, but this man was raising flag of jerkdom high indeed.

I wanted to post a comment. The guy was essentially telling you and me and the world at large that self pubishers have no chance, and never have had. Well, I used to agree, wholeheartedly. But then kindle, Amazon and ebooks changed the game completely, the scales fell from my eyes and I got the lovely aroma of opportunity in my nostrils. The opportunity I’d always needed.

The new writer’s playing field

I am a good writer, but the old game was not on a level playing field. It was filled with patronage, nepotism, and flunkeys. The new ebook order is more of a meritocracy. And I read a quote somewhere which I liked which said if you’re good enough, you’ll be published an succeed. And in this new game, I believe it.  Because its true.

Hats off to Geoff Shaw. JA Konrath. John Locke, and the gang.  You don’t say its easy, but you say its available. And that’s the only incentive I’ll ever need.

Write and keep writing. Make it good. Make it count. Publish.

Because doing what you’re born to do is a must, regardless of the way its done. Following a dream is bigger than the rules of the game. Destiny is on your side.

So to the Huff Post jerk, a royal up yours. You my friend write the same stuff your rectum produces each morning.  But I love you anyway.  The rest of you good people, scribble away. These days, opportunity is everywhere if you really are good enough. And the good news is, maybe you are!