I have read every one of Elin's books. And I have loved them from her very debut. She has a sympathetic style of writing and by that I mean the reader just falls in love with the characters immediately, be they good or bad. And, truth to tell, I never want the books to end.
Elin has such an enviable writing style which is easy to read and yet can pack a punch. Every book (and I adored "On A Lea Shore", "Eleventh Hour" etc., etc.) is a perfect read and I say that honestly.
Right. Let's get down to Elin's new book, "The Bones of Our Fathers". I read this as a draft so won't do a proper review until I've read the final version. But the draft knocked me away: typical Elin Gregory's wonderful, flowing prose and delightful characters (even the badass). Now, every book she gets published will have a mug like the one on the cover (above) but with a different message. Let me give you a hint for an alternative message to this one: Museum Curators do it in JCBs (wink).
Over to Elin:
The Bones of Our Fathers
By Elin Gregory
Available 1st August 2017 from Manifold
Press
Approx 79,500 words
ISBN 9781908312549
Blurb:
Malcolm Bright, brand new museum curator in a small Welsh
Border town, is a little lonely until – acting as emergency archaeological
consultant on a new housing development – he crosses the path of Rob Escley,
aka Dirty Rob, who makes Mal’s earth move in more ways than one.
Then Rob discovers something wonderful, and together they must combat greedy developers and a treasure hunter determined to get his hands on the find. Are desperate measures justified to save the bones of our fathers? Will Dirty Rob live up to his reputation? Do museum curators really do it meticulously?
Answers must be found for the sake of Mal’s future, his happiness and his heart.
Then Rob discovers something wonderful, and together they must combat greedy developers and a treasure hunter determined to get his hands on the find. Are desperate measures justified to save the bones of our fathers? Will Dirty Rob live up to his reputation? Do museum curators really do it meticulously?
Answers must be found for the sake of Mal’s future, his happiness and his heart.
Buy
Links:
Amazon UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B073JM29TD/
Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B073JM29TD/
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/733184
Excerpt:
As Mal trotted down the narrow stairs from the attic to the
lower landing it suddenly occurred to him who might have been making Betty
giggle and who she might trust enough to let them loose on the upper corridors
of the museum. So he wasn’t altogether surprised to glimpse a yellow hard hat
through the wrought iron of the bannisters.
“Hey.” Mal leaned over the rail and grinned as Rob looked up
at him. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. No pool table but I can make
you a coffee.”
Rob gave him a beaming smile. “Tea and you’re on,” he said
and followed Mal into the little room they had set aside as a staff kitchen.
Mal took a couple of mugs down from the cupboard and turned
on the kettle. “I think I thanked you all for last Thursday, didn’t I? It was
good fun.”
“Yeah,” Rob’s grin sounded in his voice but Mal turned to
look at him anyway just for the pleasure of it. Rob had taken off his hard hat
and put it on the window sill and was leaning against the edge of the window,
hands in his pockets and looking out over the patch of grass and shrubs that
was all the museum could afford of a garden these days. With his high vis jacket
and coveralls undone to show a bright segment of printed tee shirt—Mal could
see the “-oun-arm-lu” of “Young Farmer’s Club” and a bit of a bull logo—and
with long legs in rigger boots crossed casually at the ankle, he looked both
wildly out of place and very much at home. Mal really envied his ease. Here was
a man who knew exactly what he wanted and was confident of getting it.
“And what he wants
right now – apart from tea – is me!” Mal found that a very satisfying
thought.
The kettle whistled and Mal poured the boiling water into the
mugs, soaking the special pyramidal bags that Sharon insisted made much better
tea than any other variety. Mal stooped to open the fridge.
“Milk?” Malcolm asked. “Sugar?” Rob had stopped looking out
of the window and was watching Mal. Mal could feel it.
“I never say no to a bit of sugar. Bit o’ milk too. Just
enough to take the edge off.”
Mal grinned and made the tea then turned and offered Rob his
mug.
“Thanks,” Rob said then lifted the mug a bit to read the
printing on the side. “Museum curators do it meticulously? Oh. My. God. I hope
that’s true.”
Mal snorted. “It’s part of the job to keep the paperwork in
good order.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Mal just smiled his agreement. “Come through to my office,”
he suggested.
Elin's bio:
 |
| Logo by Catherine Dair |
Elin Gregory lives in South Wales and has been making
stuff up since she learned to talk. Writing has always had to take second place
to work and family but, slowly, she is finishing the many novels on her hard
drive and actually trying to do something useful with them.
Historical subjects predominate. She has written about
ancient Greek sculptors, 18th century seafarers but also about modern men who
change shape at will and how echoes of the past can be heard in the present.
Heroes tend to be hard as nails but capable of tenderness when circumstances
allow.
There are always new works on the go and she is
currently writing more 1930s spies, adding to a series of contemporary romances
and doing background reading for stories set in Roman Britain and in WW2.
Website: www.elingregory.com
Blog: http://elingregory.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elin.gregory
