Showing posts with label New Zealand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Zealand. Show all posts

Monday, May 15, 2017

NEW ZEALAND: A MICROCOSM IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN

by Vonnie Hughes

I’m a New Zealander, so even though I’ve spent the last fifteen years in Australia, I still know New Zealand better than I do Australia. So I tend to set my romantic suspense novels in New Zealand.

The land outside the cities is deceptive. Many a traveler has discovered that the meek and mild temperate weather changes in the blink of an eye, and that the gentle looking mountain peak in the distance hides crevasses and unclimbable escarpments. Likewise the placid rivers (“creeks”) can turn into raging rivers after only a day’s torrential rain. It might be one of the safest countries in the world when it comes to dangerous animals (there aren’t any) and be peopled with friendly folk, but like most inhabited places, Man is the main predator.


Hence my first romantic suspense/thriller published by The Wild Rose Press. It’s called Lethal Refuge and has all the elements of quintessential New Zealand as its setting. There’s the impenetrable bushland (a lot of the countryside is clothed in tight-knit trees and bushes so that a person gets lost every easily. It can be deceptive).

Lethal Refuge deals with the apocryphal New Zealand witness protection unit which has been compromised to the extent that noone—not the team psychologist, members of the unit’s committee, even the police team involved—are safe. Most of all, the relocatees, many of whom have testified against criminals, are in the worst danger, because someone knows their secrets and he’s killing to ensure his own safety.

My second romantic suspense is titled Innocent Hostage and is set in a district in which I used to live – the North Shore of Auckland. Innocent Hostage was released by The Wild Rose Press. It is about Breck Marchant, a member of one of the NZ Armed Offenders’ Squads i.e. SWAT teams. The squads are unique because they are made up of ‘ordinary’ police who are seconded in times of need. Innocent Hostage is available in both paperback and e-book form.

Sloane here, I had the pleasure of reading Innocent Hostage. This is a compelling story with the right amount of twists and turns and red herrings that kept me enthralled and guessing to the last page. Here's a little to tease you.

Two years ago, Breck Marchant handed his son, Kit, over to his ex-wife, Tania, even though it tore him apart. She knows all about kids. Thanks to his own upbringing, he hasn’t a clue. But when the boy is held hostage, Breck steps up to the plate. Somehow he’ll make this father thing work and hold down his dangerous job at the same time even though the odds are against him.

Ingrid Rowland is Kit’s preschool teacher and she has known Tania for years. As far as she can tell, neither Tania nor Breck know the first thing about being parents. She fears for Kit’s future. When Breck turns to Ingrid for help with his son, she sees a different side of him. As Breck and Ingrid work to protect Kit and hold on to their careers, they begin to work together to fight off a puzzling series of vicious attacks. Then a startling revelation culminates in a murderous turn nobody sees coming.

EXCERPT
Toeing the inside of each stair tread he climbed the stairs that led to the bedrooms. As he got near the top, he hesitated. More perfume, different from the smell of soap powder hung in the air. Tania’s perfume, strong and poignant. It was called Chloe. He ought to know. He’d bought enough of the stuff.

He stopped. Was she here? Had she been here? That stuff lingered for a long time. Their apartment had stunk of it for weeks after she’d left.

“Tania?” he whispered.

A disturbance in the air was his only warning. He ducked as something whizzed over the top of his head. Then he was shoved aside as a dark figure pushed past him. Breck clutched at the banisters, his feet shooting out from under him on the slippery carpet. Shit! Scrambling to his feet, he bounced down the last couple of stairs and chased the stocky figure careening down the hallway.

His quarry wrenched open the front door. Dusk had settled and it was almost dark outside. He managed to grab his attacker’s coat and began reeling in the interloper like a fish. But the man wriggled out of his plastic raincoat and fled towards a blue pick-up truck waiting at the curb. His balding head gleamed under the streetlights. Someone inside the vehicle leaned over and flung open the passenger door, revving the engine just as Breck aimed a solid punch at the back of the attacker’s neck. Reeling against the car door, the man half-collapsed on to the front seat of the truck, his legs hanging out the door. The driver floored the accelerator and the blue truck jerked out from the curb as if the driver was unfamiliar with the gears.

BUY LINKS
The Wild Rose Press - Amazon

Vonnie Hughes is a multi-published author in both Regency books and contemporary suspense. She loves the intricacies of the social rules of the Regency period and the far-ranging consequences of the Napoleonic Code. And with suspense she has free rein to explore forensic matters and the strong convolutions of the human mind. Like many writers, some days she hates the whole process, but somehow she just cannot let it go.

Vonnie was born in New Zealand, but she and her husband now live happily in Australia. If you visit Hamilton Gardens in New Zealand be sure to stroll through the Japanese Garden. These is a bronze plaque engraved with a haiku describing the peacefulness of that environment. The poem was written by Vonnie.

All of Vonnie’s books are available at The Wild Rose Press and Amazon.

Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads.

Monday, April 20, 2015

A FAVORITE ALWAYS WINS OUT

by Vonnie Hughes

Romantic suspense is my favorite genre to both write and read. Nowadays there’s an overlap between ‘suspense’ and ‘romantic suspense’ as most suspense novels contain a certain amount of romance. Once, well-known male writers seemed to have decided at the last second, “Oh, don’t forget my female readers.” And they hastily shoved in a little liaison. Or perhaps their publisher gave them a nudge. But often those interludes seemed forced. However over the past few years they’ve become much more adept at the romantic aspect e.g. Harlen Coben and James Patterson.

And hey, haven’t female authors got gutsy and down and dirty lately when writing suspense? Huh? I just love Karen Rose, Tami Hoag and Anne Stuart. Their background knowledge shines for me because it’s not overly technical as if it’s saying: “Hey, I did my homework!” But the romance is peripheral to a darned good story each time.

I was born in New Zealand and spent most of my life there, although our family now lives in Australia. The two main differences between Australia and New Zealand are the weather (warmer over most of Australia if you discount Tasmania which is very blue/green like New Zealand because it’s wet and often cold), and the fact that NZ has 4 million people and B-I-G Australia has 21 million residents. Yup. Australia is vast. It is the sixth largest country in the world and has a whole continent to itself. It’s not the sort of place where you get in your car and zip over to Auntie Flo’s. If you hear an Australian say, "It’s just down the road," you know they lie. Sure, it’s just down the road, but the road is a 2,000 kilometer dust-encrusted two-lane bitumen highway straddling two states, millions of curious kangaroos, hundreds of racing emus trying to beat your car, some wild camels, a million gumtrees, several townships and a couple of rivers if you’re lucky. Nor is it the place to get lost in the bush, since much of the bushland looks the same. You can go around in circles forever.

When they say, "It’s just down the road" in New Zealand, they mean it’s down a one-lane bitumen highway that goes for ten kilometers then switches to a gravel road that finishes at Jessop’s farm with 1,000 sheep dotting the peaceful hillsides. And at the back of that farm is bushland, tight, green and impenetrable. In the winter it drips with damp and in the summer the cacophony of cicadas screams in your ears.

But I digress. They say ‘write what you know’ and because I know more about the NZ Police than I do the Australian system, I based LETHAL REFUGE on the NZ system. But I took liberties with the truth. Of course I did. It’s fiction, for heaven’s sake. But think of the British Police and you’ve got a handle on the NZ Police Service which was originally based on the British system.

In LETHAL REFUGE, Célie Francis, a prickly young woman, self-reliant to the point of being irritating, witnesses the aftermath of a murder and is stalked by the murderer. When she is placed in the witness protection program, she can no longer be self-sufficient. She is at the mercy of a bunch of people who want to help her, for God’s sake. And then there’s Brand Turner, the police psychologist with a vulnerable intellect as high as the sky who has an annoying habit of demanding trust from the relocatees. When the murderer seems to track their every move, Célie finally realizes she can’t do stuff on her own any more.

I’ve had two romantic suspense books published over the past couple of years and there’s another in the works. I’ve much enjoyed writing them, even though I’m known more for my Regencies. Anyway, here’s something about LETHAL REFUGE, set in New Zealand:

Who can you trust if you can’t trust your own mother? Through the clammy fog, Celie Francis hears the chilling message. “I know who you are, Celie. I know where you live.” And in the terrifying aftermath she reconnects with her dysfunctional family in ways she had never imagined.

BLURB:
Abused and abandoned as a child, Célie Francis knows better than to trust anyone. But after she witnesses a murder, she's placed in the Unit "New Zealand's witness protection program" where she's expected to trust strangers with her life.

It's psychologist Brand Turner's job to ease witnesses into their new identities, not to protect them, but Célie stirs feelings in him that are far from professional. When it appears someone is leaking critical information that could endanger Célie, Brand will do anything to protect her. But first he has to convince her to trust him.

Adrift in a frightening world, Célie would like to believe the handsome psychologist is everything he seems, but as witnesses are murdered and danger swirls around them, Célie must decide "can she trust Brand with her life? 

Please click onto my Amazon page or The Wild Rose Press where you will find LETHAL REFUGE in both paperback and e-book.

I have attached two pictures to show just how impenetrable the New Zealand bushland can be.



This house is Brand’s next door neighbor’s place. Steve and his wife don’t miss much and Brand’s low profile gets shot to hell by Célie’s behavior.



Now this picture shows the type of area that Célie stumbled around in, right on nightfall. Creepy, huh?

If you have any more questions or would just like to say "Hi", email me vonniehughes@yahoo.com.au.

In the meantime, have a great day!

~Vonnie


Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads.

I'll be back Wednesday with a new recipe. Until then...

Happy Reading!

Sloane

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

A Delicious New Taste

That's tangy curry! Now don't wrinkle your nose if you've never tried curry and have convinced yourself it's too spicy. My friend, multi-published author, Vonnie Hughes is here to change your mind. The kitchen is all yours, Vonnie!

TANGY CURRY
2½ lbs of cubed cheap steak (it will be simmered for ages so cheap steak is fine)
2 finely chopped onions
1 chopped apple
2 chopped carrots
2 tablespoons of ordinary flour
Juice of half a lemon
2 tablespoons of golden syrup (light treacle)(corn syrup)
1 dessertspoon of mild curry powder
1 medium tin of tomato soup
1 small tin of pineapple pieces

Place the steak in a large pot. Add the onions, apple and carrots.

In a bowl mix the flour, lemon juice, golden syrup, curry powder and a little of the pineapple juice. Stir this flavored thickening and add to the meat in the pot.

Add the tomato soup and pineapple pieces.

Cook on a very low heat for two hours, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. (A little extra liquid may be needed. Water is fine).

Best served with rice and a tossed green salad.

Now while you have that 2 hour wait, how about a peek into my historical romance?


War brings together two injured people who are desperate to return home - at any cost.

Both of them are scarred by war; she because of the shattered men she nurses; he because of the loss of friends and the horrors he must endure daily.

Colwyn Hetherington has a chance to put it all behind him and return to England. Juliana Colebrook desperately wants to go to England to seek out her relatives. They take an almighty chance and travel together, setting in train a series of events that neither could have anticipated.




Vonnie Hughes is a New Zealander living in Australia. She loves animals and jogging. Vonnie writes Regencies and romantic suspense novels along with short stories.

All of Vonnie’s books are available on Amazon.

Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads.

Monday, August 19, 2013

For the Love of Fear

LETHAL REFUGE, a spine-tingling suspense book by Vonnie Hughes, is set in seldom seen New Zealand. The story griped and held me because Hughes expertly wove fear throughout while adding twists and just enough reality to make the story plausible. LETHAL REFUGE is a book I believe you all will enjoy. It left me afraid to turn the lights off.

LETHAL REFUGE
Vonnie Hughes
Print ISBN 1-60154-996-2
The Wild Rose Press


Available in both paperback and e-book from:
The Wild Rose Press
Amazon

Who can you trust if you can’t trust your own mother? Through the clammy fog, Celie Francis hears the chilling message. “I know who you are, Celie. I know where you live.” And in the terrifying aftermath she reconnects with her dysfunctional family in ways she had never imagined.

BLURB:
Abused and abandoned as a child, Célie Francis knows better than to trust anyone. But after she witnesses a murder, she's placed in the Unit "New Zealand's witness protection program" where she's expected to trust strangers with her life.

It's psychologist Brand Turner's job to ease witnesses into their new identities, not to protect them, but Célie stirs feelings in him that are far from professional. When it appears someone is leaking critical information that could endanger Célie, Brand will do anything to protect her. But first he has to convince her to trust him.

Adrift in a frightening world, Célie would like to believe the handsome psychologist is everything he seems, but as witnesses are murdered and danger swirls around them, Célie must decide "can she trust Brand with her life?

EXCERPT:
Célie Francis ran faster than she ever had in her life. Fingers of fog rolling in from the sea grabbed at her as her feet alternately flew and stuttered over the uneven pavement of the ocean road.

Where was he? How much time did she have?
The wash of the sea was a calm counterpoint to her harsh, frantic breathing. Above the sound of her thudding feet, the shriek of a bird pierced the air.

No, not a bird. Something was squeaking. Occy’s old bicycle.

He had found her.

Faster, Célie, faster, shouted the little man on the treadmill in her mind.

I can’t, she sobbed.

Fancy the consequences?

No God, no!

Then run faster.

But her aching legs could not obey. And on the roadway the relentless squeak, squeak kept pace with her.

Frantically she zigzagged, seeking a haven in the fog. It was barely dawn on the lonely North Auckland cliffs above the Pacific Ocean. No help anywhere.

Have to hide. Have to hide. Her shoes slapped a rhythm.

Salty sweat stung her eyes. Ignore it.

The slap of her running shoes echoed then died in the mist. Died...

Her brain, tumbling in an endless whirl of fear and futile questions asked—-why Occy? Why had he killed a man this time?

Up ahead loomed a deep grey cloud of mist. Thank you, God. She blasted into the fog bank and the squeaking receded behind her. This is your chance, the little man said.

Veering off the sidewalk, she streaked across a pristine lawn and crouched behind a lavender bush. Her chest heaving, she struggled to gulp another breath of sodden air.

Squeeeak. He was back. This was it. Eyes streaming, she curled into a ball on the cold ground and waited.

Something yellow zinged past her face and tickled her arm. A needle-sharp sting pierced her elbow, then another. Bees, irritated by her invasion, were trying to drive her out. No you won’t. What’s out there is a lot worse than what you can do, bees. As the pinpricks tingled and burned, she pressed her lips together so hard that the muscles on the side of her face ached.

Louder now, the squeaking advanced and receded. He was casting up and down, looking for her. Please, please...

A sibilant whisper reached her through the clammy fog. “I know who you are, Célie. I know where you live.”

Available in both paperback and e-book from:
The Wild Rose Press
Amazon

Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog.
Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads.

I'll be back Wednesday with a new recipe. Until then...

Happy Reading!

Sloane

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Patriotism Down Under

by Vonnie Hughes

G'day all!

With Anzac Day a scant nine days away, people all over Australia and New Zealand are remembering our war heroes by wearing red poppies and baking our traditional biscuits. The tradition began in World War I. Wives and lovers wanted to provide a bit of home to their soldiers and nurses, but they needed a food that wouldn't perish on the long journey. These biscuits were created and have been a symbol of Anzac Day ever since.

Here is a recipe that is easy and flavorful. I hope you try them.

ANZAC BISCUITS (COOKIES)
1 cup plain flour not self-raising
1 cup rolled oats
¾ cup sugar
½ cup dessicated (shredded) coconut
2 tbsp. golden syrup (light molasses)
1 tsp. bicarbonate of soda (raising agent)
125 grams of butter (4.4 ozs)
½ teaspoon salt
2 tbsp. boiling water.


Preheat oven to 160C or 325°F (140C or 285°F for a fan-forced oven).

Line two baking trays with non-stick baking paper (parchment paper).

Sift flour into a large bowl. Stir in the oats, coconut, sugar and salt.

Combine butter and golden syrup and stir over medium heat until melted.

Stir the bicarbonate of soda in the boiling water and add to the mixture. It will bubble.

Quickly pour the liquid over the flour mixture and combine.

Roll heaped tablespoons of the mixture into small balls and place at 5cm (about 2 inches) intervals on the baking trays. Press the balls down with a fork to flatten.

Bake for about 18-20 minutes until golden brown.

Note that these are not puffed up cookies but more a flat biscuit type of cookie.


Vonnie Hughes is a New Zealander living in Australia. She loves animals and jogging. Vonnie writes Regencies and romantic suspense novels along with short stories.

Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads.

Monday, February 11, 2013

A Highly Recommended Read

LETHAL REFUGE, a spine-tingling suspense novel by Vonnie Hughes, is set in seldom seen New Zealand. The story griped and held me because Hughes expertly wove fear throughout while adding twists and just enough reality to make the story plausible. LETHAL REFUGE is a book I believe you all will enjoy. It left me afraid to turn the lights off.

LETHAL REFUGE
Vonnie Hughes
Print ISBN 1-60154-996-2
The Wild Rose Press


Available in both paperback and e-book from:
The Wild Rose Press
Amazon

Who can you trust if you can’t trust your own mother? Through the clammy fog, Celie Francis hears the chilling message. “I know who you are, Celie. I know where you live.” And in the terrifying aftermath she reconnects with her dysfunctional family in ways she had never imagined.

BLURB:
Abused and abandoned as a child, Célie Francis knows better than to trust anyone. But after she witnesses a murder, she's placed in the Unit "New Zealand's witness protection program" where she's expected to trust strangers with her life.

It's psychologist Brand Turner's job to ease witnesses into their new identities, not to protect them, but Célie stirs feelings in him that are far from professional. When it appears someone is leaking critical information that could endanger Célie, Brand will do anything to protect her. But first he has to convince her to trust him.

Adrift in a frightening world, Célie would like to believe the handsome psychologist is everything he seems, but as witnesses are murdered and danger swirls around them, Célie must decide "can she trust Brand with her life?

EXCERPT:
Célie Francis ran faster than she ever had in her life. Fingers of fog rolling in from the sea grabbed at her as her feet alternately flew and stuttered over the uneven pavement of the ocean road.

Where was he? How much time did she have?
The wash of the sea was a calm counterpoint to her harsh, frantic breathing. Above the sound of her thudding feet, the shriek of a bird pierced the air.

No, not a bird. Something was squeaking. Occy’s old bicycle.

He had found her.

Faster, Célie, faster, shouted the little man on the treadmill in her mind.

I can’t, she sobbed.

Fancy the consequences?

No God, no!

Then run faster.

But her aching legs could not obey. And on the roadway the relentless squeak, squeak kept pace with her.

Frantically she zigzagged, seeking a haven in the fog. It was barely dawn on the lonely North Auckland cliffs above the Pacific Ocean. No help anywhere.

Have to hide. Have to hide. Her shoes slapped a rhythm.

Salty sweat stung her eyes. Ignore it.

The slap of her running shoes echoed then died in the mist. Died...

Her brain, tumbling in an endless whirl of fear and futile questions asked—-why Occy? Why had he killed a man this time?

Up ahead loomed a deep grey cloud of mist. Thank you, God. She blasted into the fog bank and the squeaking receded behind her. This is your chance, the little man said.

Veering off the sidewalk, she streaked across a pristine lawn and crouched behind a lavender bush. Her chest heaving, she struggled to gulp another breath of sodden air.

Squeeeak. He was back. This was it. Eyes streaming, she curled into a ball on the cold ground and waited.

Something yellow zinged past her face and tickled her arm. A needle-sharp sting pierced her elbow, then another. Bees, irritated by her invasion, were trying to drive her out. No you won’t. What’s out there is a lot worse than what you can do, bees. As the pinpricks tingled and burned, she pressed her lips together so hard that the muscles on the side of her face ached.

Louder now, the squeaking advanced and receded. He was casting up and down, looking for her. Please, please...

A sibilant whisper reached her through the clammy fog. “I know who you are, Célie. I know where you live.”

Available in both paperback and e-book from:
The Wild Rose Press
Amazon

Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads.

I'll be back Wednesday with a new menu. Until then...

Happy Reading!

Sloane Taylor
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Amazon Author Page