All her life she has done the right thing. But she is tired of living under her mother’s shadow. How can she ever compete with Margaret Wright, the first Human judge on the Intergalactic High Court?
Within the space of a few days, Angela drops out in the last semester at Intergalactic Bureau of Investigation Academy, signs a bounty hunting contract to find the top ten criminals in the galaxy, and kisses Brenda, her best friend since childhood.
She might be late, but at last she is blooming.
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Angela Wright is new to bounty hunting, and on her way to find Nuremburg, a cop-killer. She is also new to Uranus. And to loving a woman. She thinks she’s doing rather well, for a late bloomer.
She learns that Uranus’ has a nickname. “Black widow.” Interesting Creatures. An underground where the resistance live in squalor. And a box with journals and pictures from her father, Winston James Wright. Only, he died when she was six years old. Meanwhile on Earth, a stalker rears his head. His has his eyes and mind Angela’s girlfriend, Bren. Maybe blooming isn’t really what she thought it would be. Or maybe it is just that everyone else had a head start.
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This is book three of Angela’s Epistles Series.
Finally Angela tastes success in as a bounty hunting. The Top Ten list of worst criminals was changing because of what she did. Having conquered her new career, she now turned her mind to new endeavours. Bren, her girlfriend, was still plagued by a stalker, and the police was not helping much. Angela starts to read her father’s journals, at last. He speaks about a betrayal. They are also filled with concern for the atrocities that was happening on Uranus. Therefore she sets forth to rescue her brother from the Black Widow (Uranus). She has a brilliant scheme, a map, and just in case, a Plan B. But can she leave Uranus untouched? Will its darkness touch her? Will she, and the team of people who are gathering, be able to get to the stalker before he gets to Bren?
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This is book four in Angela’s story.
The attack on Bren unleashes all kinds of trouble in Angela’s life. With Bren and Angelo both in hospital, she is almost living there. Heading for a nervous breakdown, she is able to get them both in one room, with a guard outside. And an extra bed for herself. In the middle of this she needs to find answers. What really happened on the night Bren was attacked? Where did she go? And why did she make those calls to Bren? No, WHO made those calls to Bren? Prof Linden and the top students go through Bren’s case file and find some irregularities. Evidence is missing. The police investigation is going nowhere. All fingers point to the stalker being a policeman. Soon the Intergalactic Bureau of Investigation takes over. Can they find the truth? And Margaret wants the journals her father wrote for her. She is willing to take Angela to court. Adulthood has a fierce bite. Can Angela hold on amidst all the twists and turns life is throwing at her?
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This is book five in the ANGELA’S EPISTLES series.
Life after the attack on Bren is hard on our relationship. Her walls are up so high I cannot reach her. But I know it’s not only the attack. I lied to her. Everything between us is tainted. Angelo has found love! I’m happy to have my brother here. Only, he isn’t my brother, is he? The board members of Search International is having a party. Only, it turns into the worst idea ever. I should have expected that for them. Anyway. The new target on the International Bureau of Investigation’s Top Ten list is Identity Thief. Which means I have to go to the bank right after the party to ensure my money is protected properly. And then the hunt starts. Can I find a way to reach Bren in her tower of pain? How deep does the investigation into the mining atrocities in her father’s journals go? And what other secrets will he share with her? Will Margaret change her mind about wanting the journals? And can Angela find the Identity Thief before he finds her?
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This is book six in the series Angela's Epistles.
Follow the escapades of Angela, Bren and the people they love. This time Angela has to face enemies from within and without. But can she do this without the support of her lover, Bren, who had always been the rock on which she could stand? Margaret, her mother, is still fighting her around every corner. Added to this is a trusted friend that turns into an enemy. The Identity Thief seems like a walk in the park in the middle of Angela's storms. But will she ever find this elusive criminal? What new secrets will her father's journal reveal? Can she heal the damage to her relationship with Bren before it is too late? Can she survive in a world filled with people that want to kill her?
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from Sins of the Fathers
Angela rose too, walked towards the box in the corner and then stood looking at it for a long time. Finally she sat down, and touched it. There was a layer of dust on it, and she knew that it had been waiting here for a long time.
Waiting for me?
Reaching out, she lifted the lid. On top was a photo. Of her on graduation day. She was standing beneath the trees on campus, holding her diploma. She remembered the moment, reading those words typed out, her name in bold letters.
And the grey-haired man with the camera snapping what would be this picture, lifting his journalist tag for her to see when she looked concerned about the stranger and his camera. Then he smiled, nodded and turned to walk away.
Her father was at her graduation. And she did not even recognise his face.
But then, how was she supposed to know? In her mind he’d been dead and buried. She’d been at his grave on occasion, touching the cold marble stone, saying a few words. But even now, thinking back, she always felt as if he wasn’t there. She just assumed that it was because she did not know him and have felt disconnected from the idea of a father. But what if it was a premonition? What if deep down inside she knew that he was still alive?
She lifted the photo, and set it aside.
Underneath were what looked like personal journals, and more photos. Pictures of her playing outside on the lawn, swimming in a pool at a friend’s house, in the backseat of the car on the way somewhere. Most were grainy, taken from a distance. Some she knew where from articles of her mother on the internet. But in these, mother had been cut off and she became the main feature of the photo.
Margaret would hate the idea. Angela smiled. Pulling the first notebook out, she flipped it open. The pages where covered in small script, the words tightly fitted, reaching to the very edges of each page.
“It’s hard to come by paper and ink here,” Angelo said.
She jumped, slamming the book closed.
“But he would want you to have those,” Angelo smiled, and hobbled back to the bedding. “None of us here can read Human anyway.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” she asked. “It’s obvious that he wanted to be close to me, to know how I was doing.”
“He loved you,” Angelo said. “Ask anyone who knew him.”
“I still don’t understand why he faked his death.”
“He didn’t fake his death. Someone tried to kill him. He actually died. The first people on the scene where able to resuscitate him. But when they ran to get help, he got up and walked away,” Angelo coughed. “And stayed away.”
“Why would someone want to kill him?”
“He was a journalist,” he told her. “And he was working on a story that would shake the foundations of the Intergalactic House of Rulers, and all the peace treaties that were ever signed.”
She did not answer him.
“It’s all in there.” He gestured to the box. “You can read all about it.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“We are the résistance,” he said. “We know everything that happens on this bloody planet.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why connect with me?” she said. “I didn’t know he was gone, and now you have opened all kinds of wounds. For what?”
“Read the journals,” he said. “He left them for you.”
“How could he have done that?” she said. “How could he have known I’d ever come here?”
“He pulled some strings with the right people, okay?”
“In other words, he blackmailed someone to offer me a job?”
“God,” he said, “if your mother is anything like you, I think he probably just wanted out of the marriage.”
Angela rose with a scream. “How dare you talk about my mother…”
“No,” he said. “How dare you talk about your father like that? He was a hero. A man of principle. A man that would lay himself on the altar to save another. And everyone that knew him would do anything for him. Anything.”
Waiting for me?
Reaching out, she lifted the lid. On top was a photo. Of her on graduation day. She was standing beneath the trees on campus, holding her diploma. She remembered the moment, reading those words typed out, her name in bold letters.
And the grey-haired man with the camera snapping what would be this picture, lifting his journalist tag for her to see when she looked concerned about the stranger and his camera. Then he smiled, nodded and turned to walk away.
Her father was at her graduation. And she did not even recognise his face.
But then, how was she supposed to know? In her mind he’d been dead and buried. She’d been at his grave on occasion, touching the cold marble stone, saying a few words. But even now, thinking back, she always felt as if he wasn’t there. She just assumed that it was because she did not know him and have felt disconnected from the idea of a father. But what if it was a premonition? What if deep down inside she knew that he was still alive?
She lifted the photo, and set it aside.
Underneath were what looked like personal journals, and more photos. Pictures of her playing outside on the lawn, swimming in a pool at a friend’s house, in the backseat of the car on the way somewhere. Most were grainy, taken from a distance. Some she knew where from articles of her mother on the internet. But in these, mother had been cut off and she became the main feature of the photo.
Margaret would hate the idea. Angela smiled. Pulling the first notebook out, she flipped it open. The pages where covered in small script, the words tightly fitted, reaching to the very edges of each page.
“It’s hard to come by paper and ink here,” Angelo said.
She jumped, slamming the book closed.
“But he would want you to have those,” Angelo smiled, and hobbled back to the bedding. “None of us here can read Human anyway.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” she asked. “It’s obvious that he wanted to be close to me, to know how I was doing.”
“He loved you,” Angelo said. “Ask anyone who knew him.”
“I still don’t understand why he faked his death.”
“He didn’t fake his death. Someone tried to kill him. He actually died. The first people on the scene where able to resuscitate him. But when they ran to get help, he got up and walked away,” Angelo coughed. “And stayed away.”
“Why would someone want to kill him?”
“He was a journalist,” he told her. “And he was working on a story that would shake the foundations of the Intergalactic House of Rulers, and all the peace treaties that were ever signed.”
She did not answer him.
“It’s all in there.” He gestured to the box. “You can read all about it.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“We are the résistance,” he said. “We know everything that happens on this bloody planet.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why connect with me?” she said. “I didn’t know he was gone, and now you have opened all kinds of wounds. For what?”
“Read the journals,” he said. “He left them for you.”
“How could he have done that?” she said. “How could he have known I’d ever come here?”
“He pulled some strings with the right people, okay?”
“In other words, he blackmailed someone to offer me a job?”
“God,” he said, “if your mother is anything like you, I think he probably just wanted out of the marriage.”
Angela rose with a scream. “How dare you talk about my mother…”
“No,” he said. “How dare you talk about your father like that? He was a hero. A man of principle. A man that would lay himself on the altar to save another. And everyone that knew him would do anything for him. Anything.”
Currently married to her personal MacGyver, she surrounds herself with what enriches her body, mind and soul. Family. Friends. Nature. Great food. Good wine. Mountains of books. She writes novels challenging major themes of her life in the genres of fantasy and gothic horror, which she loves.
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Cool cover!!
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