Val Penny Hunter’s Revenge Blog Tour

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Val Penny is an American author living in SW Scotland. She has two adult daughters of whom she is justly proud and lives with her husband and two cats. She has a Law degree from Edinburgh University and her MSc from Napier University. She has had many jobs including hairdresser, waitress, lawyer, banker, azalea farmer and lecturer. However she has not yet achieved either of her childhood dreams of being a ballerina or owning a candy store. Until those dreams come true, she has turned her hand to writing poetry, short stories and novels. Her crime novels, ‘Hunter’s Chase’ and Hunter’s Revenge are set in Edinburgh, Scotland, published by Crooked Cat Books. The third book in the series, Hunter’s Force, follows shortly.

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Blurb

Hunter by name – Hunter by nature: DI Hunter Wilson will not rest until his friend’s death is avenged.

DI Hunter Wilson is called to the scene of a murder. He is shocked to find the victim is his friend and colleague, George Reinbold.

Who would want to harm the quiet, old man? Why was a book worth £23,000 delivered to him that morning? Why is the security in George’s home so intense?

Hunter must investigate his friend’s past as well as the present to identify George’s killer.

When a new supply of cocaine from Peru floods HMP Edinburgh and the city, the courier leads Hunter to a criminal gang, but Hunter requires the help of his nemesis, the former Chief Constable, Sir Peter Myerscough, and local gangster, Ian Thomson, to make his case.

Hunter’s perseverance and patience are put to the test time after time in this taut crime thriller.

Hunter’s Revenge is the second in Val Penny’s gripping crime series featuring DI Hunter Wilson.

Extract from the Book
DCs Tim Myerscough, Bear Zewedu, Mel Grant and Dr. Gillian Pearson stop for a few drinks on their way to the Scotland -v- Wales international rugby match and witness an unexpected meeting.
Tim was aware of comments about himself and Bear as the four of them walked along. The men were used to causing a stir. They were both tall, with the physiques of rugby players. Although they were now in their early thirties, and playing for the older players’ team of Merchiston Castle School former pupils, their distinctive builds and vastly different colourings always caused people to look twice. Tim knew that Mel was used to it, but was aware that the glances were all new to Gillian (although she often got a second glance herself, due to the bright green flash at the front of her hair). As the four of them went into the Roseburn Bar for a drink before the match, a group of Welsh supporters were getting up to leave and Gillian managed to grab the table.
“That was quick. Well done!” Mel said.
Gillian grinned. “It comes from playing musical chairs with three older brothers.”
Tim sat with the girls while Bear went to buy the round. He, Tim and Mel all ordered pints of special. Gillian asked for a gin and tonic and a bag of cheese and onion crisps. Bear caught Mel’s eye and smiled.
“We have a lady present,” he smiled.
“And that’ll not be me, big man,” Mel replied. “I know. Go on, get them in before I die of thirst.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gillian said. “I’ve never liked beer.”
“Don’t worry about Bear, he’s just teasing me. He always says a pint glass looks silly in my wee hands, but compared to him and Tim everybody in the world has wee hands.”
It was Tim’s turn to smile.
As soon as Tim saw that Bear had made it to the front of the queue around the bar, he got up to help and Bear passed the drinks back to him. They managed this above the heads of everybody else and never spilled a drop.
“You big boys sure ate your porridge when you were young, didn’t you?” a little Welshman said.
“That we did,” Bear laughed.
“You two have done that before,” Gillian said.
“More times than you would believe,” Tim replied as he sat down.
“Myerscough, isn’t it? Tim Myerscough and Winston Zewedu? My goodness, imagine seeing you here.”
Tim and Bear stood up at the same time. Both of them dwarfed the newcomer. Neither of them smiled.
“Lord Buchanan,” Bear said holding out his hand to shake the man’s hand formally.
“Well, I never, Lucky Lord Lachlan Buchanan. What are you doing slumming it here?” Tim did not offer to shake hands.
“I’m just meeting a few friends. Fine pub, here, what? And I heard about your dad, Myerscough. Rotten luck getting banged up like that.”
“Lucky! Oh, hello Tim, Bear,” a familiar voice said.
“Sophie. Long time no see. May I introduce you? Gillian Pearson, meet Lady Sophie Dalmore, my ex-girlfriend,” Tim said.
Gillian gasped and blushed. She brushed the green flash in the fringe of her hair and smiled.
“And my present one, of course.” Lucky put his arm protectively around Sophie’s waist.
“Of course,” Tim said flatly.
The tension amongst the group could be cut with a knife. Tim could tell that Gillian was uneasy; the three men stood verbally scoring points against one another, whilst Sophie looked as if she wanted the earth to open up and swallow her.
“Good to see you boys. We must get together sometime,” Lucky said insincerely.
“Of course,” Bear said, sarcastically.
“Why?” Tim asked.
“Indeed. Well, I see my friends, I must go. Sophie, I won’t be long. Will you wait in the Range Rover?”
“Range Rover? You had me folded up in a Fiat 500 so you could save the planet!” Tim said angrily.
Sophie looked embarrassed, but said nothing and turned to walk out of the pub.
As Lucky turned to walk away Tim made to sit down, but he noticed the group of men in the corner that Lucky was heading for.
“You should choose your friends more carefully, Lucky, or you may not be Lucky Lord Lachlan Buchanan for much longer.”
“Jealously doesn’t become you, old boy. And no hitting on Sophie, if you know what’s good for you,” Lucky sneered.
Bear made to stand up to defend Tim, but Tim shook his head. “He’s not worth it, Bear.”
“Who are his friends?” Mel asked, nudging Tim.
“Look over there,” Tim murmured. “Donald Blair, Brian Squires and Lenny The Lizard.”
“I know Squires and Lenny The Lizard, but what is the other man’s connection?” Mel asked.
“Donald Blair? He’s a lawyer.”
“The one..?”
“Exactly.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Bear asked.
Tim nodded at the group.
“I thought Lucky Buchanan was choosy about the company he keeps,” Bear said.

Twitter Page @valeriepenny

Website

https://authorvalpenny.com

Hunter’s Revenge Amazon Page

 

Val Penny Amazon Author Page

https://www.amazon.co.uk/l/B07C4725TK?_encoding=UTF8&redirectedFromKindleDbs=true&ref_=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1&rfkd=1&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

 

 

 

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Val Penny Hunter’s Chase Blog Tour

Val Penny is an American author living in SW Scotland. She has two adult daughters of whom she is justly proud and lives with her husband and two cats. She has a Law degree from Edinburgh University and her MSc from Napier University. She has had many jobs including hairdresser, waitress, lawyer, banker, azalea farmer and lecturer. However she has not yet achieved either of her childhood dreams of being a ballerina or owning a candy store. Until those dreams come true, she has turned her hand to writing poetry, short stories and novels. Her crime novels, ‘Hunter’s Chase’ and Hunter’s Revenge are set in Edinburgh, Scotland, published by Crooked Cat Books. The third book in the series, Hunter’s Force, follows shortly.

Hunter by name – Hunter by nature: DI Hunter Wilson will not rest until Edinburgh is safe.

DI Hunter Wilson knows there is a new supply of cocaine flooding his city and he needs to find the source but his attention is transferred to murder when a corpse is discovered in the grounds of a golf course. Shortly after the post-mortem, Hunter witnesses a second murder but that is not the end of the slaughter. With a young woman’s life also hanging in the balance, the last thing Hunter needs is a new man on his team: the son of his nemesis, the former Chief Constable. Hunter’s perseverance and patience are put to the test time after time in this taught crime thriller.

Hunter’s Chase Excerpt 4

 

Hunter Wilson sat at his desk on Friday morning. Young Myerscough would not be starting with him till Monday. Pity. It would have been an education to take him to the post mortem. Not to worry. There would be other chances to test the lad’s mettle.

His gut told him the corpse found on his patch was not the result of an accident. Hunter did not like the thought of murder on his watch; it was even worse than this influx of cocaine. As soon as Rachael Anderson arrived they would head over to the Scottish Parliament building, interview Sir Peter and find out what he had to say for himself. Probably more than Hunter wanted to listen to, but he might have some insight into the burial site. After all, even if the man was an oaf, he had over 25 years experience on the force to draw on.

Hunter did not like the Scottish Parliament building. It had been designed by a Spanish architect who died before its completion, probably of shame. The project was completed ten times over budget and nearly three years late. As the DI mused about what would happen within the police force if it tried to proceed on that basis, Rachael walked in.

“Morning, Boss. I got time for coffee?” she asked, clearly more in hope than expectation.

Hunter shook his head and tossed her the car keys.

“Will this take long, do you think?”

“Not if I can help it. Anyway we have to be back for the briefing at 10am.”

Rachael was silent as she drove them to the bottom of the Royal Mile. She pulled up outside the modern Scottish Parliament building, then trotted up the stairs ahead of Hunter as if they were part of a dressage exercise.

Inside, the detectives showed their badges and asked for Sir Peter Myerscough.

“I’m sorry. Sir Peter phoned to say he had had a break-in last night and had stayed at The New Club on Princes Street,” the admittance clerk said. Then she added. “Very nice, the New Club, I believe.”

Hunter grunted.

The clerk ignored him and went on: “He had to go home to supervise repairs. He is to speak to his insurers, I believe. He won’t be in until the joiner has finished work on the broken doors and replaced locks. Do you want to leave a message?”

“Fucking arse,” Hunter said.

“No thanks, no message. We’ll contact Mr Myerscough at home,” Rachael said.

“Sir Peter to you, I think, officer.”

“Dectective to you.” Rachael smiled and held the door open for her

Twitter Page

@valeriepenny

Website

https://authorvalpenny.com

Hunter’s Chase Amazon Page

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hunters-Chase-Edinburgh-Crime-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B0775TSPFT/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&qid=1549804845&sr=8-1&keywords=hunter%27s+Chase&linkCode=sl1&tag=lovboogroblo-21&linkId=5d91e355491bfe706fc2b1cf35486512&language=en_GB

Val Penny Amazon Author Page

https://www.amazon.co.uk/l/B07C4725TK?_encoding=UTF8&redirectedFromKindleDbs=true&ref_=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1&rfkd=1&shoppingPortalEnabled=true