We are sooooo excited! A FORSAKEN FRIEND is just one week from lift off and we are super busy behind the scenes finalising preparations for the launch. This book is so fantastic and the perfect sequel to the brilliant A FALLING FRIEND. As you can see the series has had a facelift, one we very much adore, and we cannot wait to get these books into the hands of readers. If you love sharp, witty, and strong women who at times make terrible decisions and fall flat on their faces then you will love this series. Co-authors Sue Featherstone and Susan Pape have created two characters that are so real, you will feel like they’re in the room with you!

Just so you know, we’re running a pre-order special of 99c/p for A FORSAKEN FRIEND for a limited time only. So don’t dally!


But, as we wait for the release, we have a wee treat for you booklovers. We’re going to share short excerpts from A FORSAKEN FRIEND every day until its release so you can see just how irresistible and packed with voice this book truly is. And today, we’re hearing from the more sensible one of the two ladies, Lee Harper…



I’d read the newspaper from cover-to-cover, sports pages included, and was concentrating on picking up the heel stitches on one of the socks I was knitting as a Christmas present for my father, when I heard the tippity tip-tap of a pair of impossibly high heels and the sound of someone uttering a short laugh, which sounded like ‘Hah!’ Bloody miracle she could walk a step, let alone climb two flights of stairs. I jumped up to confront her. Correction, I attempted to jump up but my knees couldn’t take the strain, and I ended up in an undignified scramble to look her in the eye.

Just as well I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome. ‘What the bloody hell are you doing here?’ She swayed ever so slightly. It was either the heels or…

‘Have you been drinking?’

‘None of your sodding business,’ she snapped, propping one shoulder against the doorpost while she hunted for her keys.

I folded my arms and waited. She growled and continued digging through the handbag detritus. Funny, she’s obsessively tidy in every other area of her life, spends a small fortune on designer totes, yet her bags are a cesspool of dog-eared receipts, half-used lipsticks, grungy eye liner and bleeding ball points.

She gave the bag a vicious shake and flung it at me. ‘I can’t find the bloody keys.’



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