Mrs Cooke’s Books

What Happens Now? by Sophia Money-Coutts

It’s my stop on the #blogtour for What Happens Now? by Sophia Money-Coutts today and I am delighted to provide you with an extract for your comedic reading pleasure!

Synopsis

‘No question about it, there are two little purple lines. I’m pregnant.’

After eight years together, Lil Bailey thought she’d already found ‘the one’ – that is, until he dumped her for a blonde twenty-something colleague. So she does what any self-respecting singleton would do: swipes right, puts on her best bra and finds herself on a first date with a handsome mountaineer called Max. What’s the worst that can happen?

Well it’s pretty bad actually. First Max ghosts her and then, after weeing on a stick (but mostly her hands), a few weeks later Lil discovers she’s pregnant. She’s single, thirty-one and living in a thimble-sized flat in London, it’s hardly the happily-ever-after she was looking for.

Lil’s ready to do the baby-thing on her own – it can’t be that hard, right? But she should probably tell Max, if she can track him down. Surely he’s not that Max, the highly eligible, headline-grabbing son of Lord and Lady Rushbrooke, currently trekking up a mountain in South Asia? Oh, maybe he wasn’t ignoring Lil after all…

Extract

PROLOGUE

I wasn’t sure I had enough wee for the stick. I pressed my bladder through my jeans with my fingertips, holding the pregnancy test in the other hand. Not bursting but it would have to do. I peeled off the top of the foil packet, balanced the stick on the top of the loo roll and unzipped my flies. I sat down and reached back for the stick.

Looking down at my thighs, I realized I was sitting too far forward on the loo seat, so I shuffled my bottom backwards and widened my knees until there was enough space to reach my hand underneath me, trying to avoid grazing the loo bowl with my knuckles. Christ, this was unsanitary. There must be better ways.

I narrowed my eyes at the bath in front of me and wondered if it would be easier to step into that, crouch down and wee on the stick in the bath, letting it trickle out down the plughole. No worse than weeing in the shower, right?

I shook my head. I was in my parents’ bathroom. Couldn’t do a pregnancy test by pissing on a stick in my mum’s bath. She loved that bath. She spent hours in it wearing her frilly bath hat, shouting at Radio Norfolk.

I frowned down into the dark space between my legs again where the stick was poised in mid-air, ready for action. What a simple bit of plastic to deliver such potentially life-changing news. It was the shape of the vape my friend Clem carried round with him everywhere, loaded with lemon sherbert-flavoured liquid.

‘Why lemon sherbert?’ I’d asked him once. He’d shrugged and said he just liked sweets.

I shook my head again as if to try and physically dispel thoughts of Clem and lemon sherbert. Concentrate, Lil. The stick. Wee on the stick. Get on with it. But I couldn’t. At this,the most important moment of my bladder’s life so far, it had stage fright. Funny how, when you really concentrate on weeing, you can’t. And yet normally, when you sit yourself down what, six, seven, eight times a day, out it comes, no trouble.

I sighed. The other problem was I wasn’t sure where to hold the stick in order to catch maximum wee. I shifted my hand slightly towards the front. Was that a good place? Maybe. But if it came out as more of a trickle than a jet it would need to be in the middle.

‘Oi,’ came Jess’s voice from outside the bathroom door. I’d locked it because I knew she’d come in otherwise. ‘Have you done it yet?’

‘Shhhh,’ I hissed back. ‘No. I haven’t. And pressure from you won’t help.’

Jess went quiet for a few seconds, then I heard her whistling from outside the door.

‘Why are you whistling?’

She stopped. ‘It makes horses pee when you’re riding them.’‘I’m not a horse.’ Although it gave me an idea. With my left hand, I reached across for the bathroom sink and twisted the hot tap, then held my hand underneath the warm water.

It worked instantly. I started weeing and moved the stick into prime position, sort of between the front and the middle. Please could I not be pregnant, I thought, my eyes fixated on the stick as I felt warm wetness on my fingers. Brilliant, I’d weed on my own hand. Please, please, please could this not be positive. I was thirty-one, single, barely able to afford my rent. I had a life plan. Well, a vague life plan. This was not it.

I finished and jiggled up and down on the loo seat, trying not to drop the stick.Then I turned off the hot tap with my left hand and tugged off a few sheets of loo roll. I retrieved the stick, resisted the urge to tap it on the section of loo seat in front of me like a teaspoon on the side of a teacup – ting, ting, ting! – and wiped myself.

I looked at the test in my right hand, feeling as if I’d swal-lowed a jar of butterflies, before gently dropping it on a pile of Mum’s History Today magazines and pulling up my jeans. I picked up the stick without looking at it and unlocked the bathroom door.

Jess was standing there, picking at her cuticles like anervous father outside the delivery room.

‘Show me,’ she said instantly, holding her hand out for the test. ‘What’s it say?’

Come on, Lil, I told myself, stomach still churning, look down. Get it over and done with and then you can go to the pub with Jess and have a drink to celebrate. After that, no more sex. Never again. Not worth it. Not worth the hassle and the drama and this panic attack over the infinitesimally small chance you might be pregnant. I’d take a vow of celibacy and get a cat. I’d become a priest. I’d move to somewhere in the Far East, become a Buddhist and renounce all physical desires. I’d convert to asexualism. Just please, please, please, God, if there is one, if you are there, I know I’m always asking you things and swearing I’ll never ask again, but this time I really mean it. I promise I’ll never ask anything trivial again if you grant me this one tiny wish: please can I not be pregnant.

I looked down at the stick.

‘Fuccccccccck,’ I said, looking at it, holding it out for Jess. No question about it, there were two little purple lines. ‘I’m pregnant.’

What Happens Now? Is out now in hardback and you can buy it here

My thanks go to Joe Thomas and HQ Stories for my gorgeous finished copy of the book and also for the invitation to the tour. If you enjoyed my post, please do check out my others and also the other stops on the #blogtour (see below).

Until next time!

@mrscookesbooks

Control by Hugh Montgomery

It’s my stop on the #blogtour for Control by Hugh Montgomery today, and I’m delighted to be sharing my thoughts on this fantastic medical thriller!

Synopsis

Renowned surgeon Michael Trenchard locks his office door and prepares for a relaxing evening. But what follows is a living nightmare when later he is discovered in a locked-in coma, the victim of an auto-erotic asphyxiation.

It is left to Doctor Kash Devan, Trenchard’s young protégé, to uncover the truth. And what he discovers is chilling . . .

In his ruthless pursuit of wealth and success, Trenchard has left a trail of wrecked lives, and angry people, behind him. Which of Trenchard’s victims hated him so much that they wanted to ruin not only his reputation, but his life as well?

Not all doctors are heroes . . .

My Thoughts

Control is a compelling tale of greed and ambition. It is well researched and uses the right balance of medical jargon, ensuring the reader is not alienated whilst remaining technically sharp.

Be warned! This book is set in a hospital, and contains detailed and gruesome descriptions of various medical procedures, something I found fascinating but would certainly not be for the faint hearted! It tackles difficult and often distressing themes which Montgomery covers with clinical succinctness. There are no hearts and flowers here.

Control is a terrifying medical thriller; an intelligent “whodunnit” oozing clever twists but with plenty of pace; a gripping page turner which kept me guessing right until the last page.

If you are looking for the ideal holiday read, something that will keep you on the edge of your seat in the heat, then look no further than Control.

Control is out now in paperback and you can buy it here

My thanks go to Tracy Fenton of Compulsive Readers for my invitation to the #blogtour and also to Ellen Turner and Zaffre for my copy of the book in exchange for my honest review.

If you liked my review, please do check out my other posts, and also the other stops on the #blogtour (see below).

About the Author

Hugh Montgomery is a distinguished physician, known for his pioneering genetic research. Outside the field of medicine, he was a founding member of the UK Climate and Health Council and is an endurance expert, who has run three ultra-marathons, scaled the world’s sixth highest mountain, jumped naked from a plane at 14,000 ft and holds the world record for underwater piano playing. Zaffre, Bonnier Books UK’s flagship adult fiction imprint, will publish Control in August 2019.

Until next time!

@mrscookesbooks

Take it Back by Kia Abdullah

It’s my stop on the #blogtour for Take it Back by Kia Abdullah today and I’m SO excited about it! There has been so much hype surrounding this book, and I’m here to say: Believe it. Buy it. You won’t regret it!

Synopsis

The Victim: A sixteen-year-old girl with facial deformities, neglected by an alcoholic mother. Who accuses the boys of something unthinkable.

The Defendants: Four handsome teenage boys from hardworking immigrant families. All with corroborating stories.

Whose side would you take?

Zara Kaleel, one of London’s brightest young legal minds, shattered the expectations placed on her by her family and forged a glittering career at the Bar. All before hanging up her barrister’s wig to help the victims who needed her most. Victims like Jodie Wolfe.

Jodie’s own best friend doesn’t even believe her claims that their classmates carried out such a crime. But Zara does. And Zara is determined to fight for her.

Jodie and Zara become the centre of the most explosive criminal trial of the year, in which ugly divisions within British society are exposed. As everything around Zara begins to unravel she becomes even more determined to get Jodie the justice she’s looking for. But at what price?

My Thoughts

This dark, sharp and disconcerting novel had me on edge for the entire two days it took to read it. I was totally hooked from the first page and completely clueless as to who to believe until the very end.

Zara, the main protagonist, is forward and clever but finds herself caught up in violent clashes of culture, where battle lines are drawn but remain blurred. She deals with hatred, fear and divisive situations whilst always trying to do what she thinks is right. This story has heart-pounding pace and is uncomfortably conflicting; I was gripped by both the meticulous research and the painfully unsettling layers of evidence as they unfolded.

Abdullah’s writing is complex yet lucid, she delivers shocking twists like electrical pulses; in bursts with sheer power. I was utterly captivated and read with baited breath, this book is compelling.

Take it Back is a crushingly intense, powerful and twisted novel that will have you on tenterhooks until the very last page. Clear your diaries for when you pick it up, I promise you won’t be able to put it down!

This is a serious contender for my book of the year, which is a big shout, given my penchant for indecisiveness! I urge you all to read it.

My thanks go to Lucy Richardson and HQ Stories for the invitation to the #blogtour and my stunning finished copy of the book in exchange for my honest review.

Take It Back is out now in hardcover and ebook format and you can buy it here

If you enjoyed my review, please do check out my other posts and the other stops on the #blogtour.

Until next time!

@mrscookesbooks

Old Bones by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

It’s my stop on the #blogtour for Old Bones by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles today and I’m thrilled to be sharing an extract of this book with you! What’s more, I am hosting a giveaway too! To be in with a chance of winning a copy of Old Bones, read the extract below, follow me on twitter and retweet my #blogtour tweet and answer the question in the comments! The competition closes at 6pm on 09 August and is only open to those with UK addresses. Good luck!

Synopsis

‘You can’t upset anyone looking into old bones.’

DCI Bill Slider’s out of favour in the force – for accusing a senior Met officer of covering up an underage sex ring. As a punishment, he’s given a cold case to keep him busy: some old bones to rake through, found buried in a back garden, from a murder that happened two decades ago, and with most of the principal players already dead.

Surely Bill Slider can’t unearth anything new or shocking with these tired old bones?

Extract

Monday morning began with bones. McLaren took the phone call, breaking off from hand-to-mouth combat with a bacon baguette.

‘You’re disgusting,’ Swilley said as he sprayed crusty flakes in the attempt to say ‘CID room’. ‘What would your girlfriend think if she could see you now?’

McLaren put down the baton carefully, balancing it across the top of his coffee mug, said, ‘Yeah, I’ll hold,’ into the receiver, and had the leisure to answer Swilley. ‘Nat wun’t care,’ he told her. ‘She likes a bloke with an appetite. She’s only little, but she can put it away herself all right.’

‘Ah,’ Atherton murmured on his way out. ‘A gastro-gnome.’

But McLaren was now listening to the call. He didn’t generally catch Atherton’s witticisms anyway. He thought wit was a description of the weather in New Zealand.

A garden contractor starting to dig out foundations for a shed had unearthed a large bone and called the police. Uniform decided it ought to be investigated and Mackay from Slider’s team went out. When he reported back that he thought the bone was human, Slider sent McLaren to assist while the SOC diggers were sent for, carefully to uncover whatever else might be there.

Mid-morning, Swilley appeared at Slider’s door. ‘The bones, boss,’ she said. ‘Mackay says they’re definitely human.’
Slider looked up. ‘How definitely?’

‘The whole skeleton’s there. Doc Cameron’s on his way. The builder had the sense to stop when he uncovered the first one, so there’s not too much damage. Uniform’s got the owners corralled in the house – yuppie couple. The husband’s kicking up blazes, apparently – wants to be let go to work.’

‘All right, send someone down to keep him happy.’

‘I’ll go, boss.’

Slider eyed her. Tall, athletic, blonde and attractive. ‘No, you might inflame the wife,’ he said. ‘Send Gascoyne – he’s got an emollient personality.’

‘If you say so,’ said Swilley, though Slider didn’t know whether she was doubtful about the man or the vocabulary.

He returned to the sea of paperwork that these days covered his desk. It never grew any less, because every time he left the room for a moment, elves would come and deposit some more. There had always been annoying paperwork, but of recent years, what with political correctness, pressure groups and the increasing litigiousness of the British Public, it had seemed to become not an adjunct, but the whole purpose of The Job. Sometimes he made an attempt at sorting the stuff into piles, butsearching for something specific just spread them out again. It was an intractable mass. There were layers at the bottom that were turning into peat.

On a trip to the loo, to get away from it for a minute or two, he bumped into Detective Superintendent Porson, his boss, coming out, shaking his big chalky hands to dry them.

‘Out of paper towels again,’ he said irritably, glaring at Slider as though it were his fault. ‘I hate them bloody blower things.’ Slider whimsically pulled out his handkerchief, but Porson, with a stern look, advanced one hip and said, ‘Get mine out of my jacket pocket.’ And while he wiped his hands dry, still staring at Slider, he said, ‘Got anything on?’

Slider repressed the facetious answer that sat up like a dog smelling sausage, and said, ‘Human remains unearthed this morning in a garden in Laburnum Avenue.’

‘Laburnum?’

‘On the Trees Estate.’ It was the officially unofficial name for a small development off the Uxbridge Road.

‘Right. Laburnum. What sort of remains?’

‘A whole human skeleton, apparently.’

Porson looked pleased, for some reason. ‘Old bones. Lovely. Something for you to get your teeth into.’

‘Sir?’ Slider said with an effort. Down, Fido!

‘Keep you busy,’ Porson explained. ‘Usefully employed and out of everyone’s hair. You can’t upset anybody looking into old bones.’

‘You mean—?’

Porson took on a worrying hint of kindness. ‘You know you aren’t Mr Popular in some circles. Now this won’t put anyone’s toes out of joint. Sort it out, it’s good publicity for The Job, bit of bon for you.’

‘You want me to prioritize it?’ Slider queried innocently.

‘Get stuck in!’ Porson invited, with a nod of his massive head, and strode on.

‘Roger that sir,’ Slider murmured. Direct order from the boss. Bye bye paperwork, hello fieldcraft. He returned via the CID room, where his minions were toiling over their various routines. ‘I’ll give it half an hour more for Doc Cameron to do his stuff, then I’ll go over to Laburnum myself,’ he announced. Eyes were raised in hope. DS Atherton, his friend and usual bagman, wasn’t there – out on some business with the sergeant’s envied freedom. He thought of the indignant yuppie couple and Fido grinned and wagged again. ‘Hart, you can come with me.’ Hart was black and sassy with a gorblimey London accent. Emollient she was not.

‘Right, boss,’ Hart said with a happy grin. ‘Old bones. Lovely!’

Odd that Porson had used the same words, he thought.

Gripping stuff! Old Bones is out now in paperback and you can buy it here

My thanks go to Holly Domney and Blackthorn Books for the invitation to the tour and for my copy of the book. If you enjoyed my post, please do check out my others, and also the other stops on the #blogtour (see below).

Until next time!

@mrscookesbooks

The Girl He Used to Know by Tracey Garvis Graves

I am thrilled to be stop on the #blogtour for The Girl He Used to Know by Tracey Garvis Graves – I adored this book and suspect that many others will too.

Synopsis

Annika Rose likes being alone.

She feels lost in social situations, saying the wrong thing or acting the wrong way. She just can’t read people. She prefers the quiet solitude of books or playing chess to being around others. Apart from Jonathan. She liked being around him, but she hasn’t seen him for ten years. Until now that is. And she’s not sure he’ll want to see her again after what happened all those years ago.

Annika Rose likes being alone.

Except that, actually, she doesn’t like being alone at all. And she just might have a second chance at first love.

My Thoughts

Well THAT was unexpected! This really is the PERFECT not-so-perfect love story; a lesson that there is someone for everyone and that in life there is love, hope and maybe a second chance.

Annika is someone who, by her own admission, looks on the outside like she fits in, but inside feels that she doesn’t belong. She is slow at picking up on social cues and thus constantly worries about what to say and do in any situation; having anxiety as her constant emotional companion. She is straight-talking, blunt, and painfully honest but she is also smart and funny, and is absolutely beautiful.

Jonathan is besotted with Annika, there is chemistry between them as soon as they meet and they make an enviable couple. Jonathan is everything that Annika thought she would never have; a rock; a companion; a soulmate. He has never once made her feel stupid for the weird things that she blurts out, and he understands her completely. In turn Annika is Jonathan’s reason for existing; a concept which is totally alien to her as she is incapable of believing that she could be a saviour whilst being saved herself.

After being forced apart, they meet by chance a decade later and the story unravels through these two timelines. One charting their college years in the early 90’s and the other when they reconnect in 2001. The narrative is dark and morose at times and Garvis Graves tackles some difficult themes.

Without giving too much away, there is a sudden change of pace towards the end of this book; everything steps up a gear and I found myself reading quickly, urgently and breathlessly. It was emotionally draining yet SO compelling! I even shed a tear as I turned the final pages!

Garvis Graves has written a story with so much heart and sensitivity I found myself wanting to post-it a quote in almost every chapter of this novel! One particularly memorable part has Annika describing herself as being in a foreign country, asking for orange juice but constantly being given milk because no one understands her.

I tore through this book in only a couple of days and looking back I wish I’d savoured it a bit more – I’ve quickly grown a fond attachment to Annika and Jonathan and I shall miss them dearly.

The Girl He Used To Know is an emotional yet uplifting journey which blew me away. I have already recommended it to several people and shall be searching out Garvis Grave’s previous titles whilst I eagerly await her next offering.

This is definitely a book for fans of Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine (by Gail Honeyman), The Cactus (by Sarah Haywood) and Needlemouse (by Jane O’Connor).

The Girl He Used to Know is out now in ebook format and will be published as a paperback on 08 July 2019 – you can pre-order it here

My thanks go to Tracy Fenton and Compulsive Readers for the invitation to the #blogtour and to Alainna Georgiou and Trapeze for my proof copy in exchange for my honest review.

If you liked my review, please do check out my other posts, and also the other stops on the #blogtour (see below).

Until next time!

@mrscookesbooks

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