Art Writing

It’s done!

Well, my friends, I really meant to speak to you sooner, but have been having a few problems. One of which is getting everything ready to publish my ebook, ‘Death of a Twin’ (Book one in the Beaufort’s Landing Series) written as Percy Rose to differentiate my crime novels from my other works. I am starting slowly. So, at the moment (or as soon as Amazon has reviewed it, up to 72 hours they say), Correction book is now live. You can purchase at the link above. it is only available on Amazon as an ebook. It is $2.99USD, which equates to around $4.66AUD. Sorry I can’t provide a direct link yet.

‘Xelma, a reluctant psychic, is hiding out in tropical North Queensland, under the Witness Protection Program, but when her sister, Charlie, is murdered she risks all to investigate.Detective Ryan Croft fears Xelma’s ex-husband may be trying to warn her off witnessing against him. He finds Xelma’s insistence that she ‘sees’ events highly suspicious, however her ‘dreams’ are strangely accurate. Could she be the murderer? He is increasingly irritated when she won’t stop interfering in the case. She could get herself killed, and him as well.  Xelma is not the only suspect. Jealousy, retribution and greed all provide motives for Charlie’s nearest and dearest.Croft fears the worst when Xelma disappears. Has she run? Is she safe?’

Don’t you just want to run out, er, I mean sit at the computer and buy it? Lol.

I, I mean Percy will be bringing it out in paperback, eventually…no soon, but baby steps. I think it has taken so long to publish because I kept playing around and telling myself it wasn’t good enough, or the cover wasn’t quite right, or anything else I could think of to put off the pressing of that publish button. I’m good at procrastinating. Now that that one is up, I think I will go in and add my poetry books and in a little while the first of my psychological thriller series. I’ll let you know as they go up.

It has certainly been a learning curve. I hope I’ve done everything necessary. What I need now are sales, but just as importantly reader reviews. So, if you do buy and read it please don’t be shy about leaving a review (even if you don’t like it it helps, so I’m told).

Oh, by the way, I did up the cover myself, ’cause I can’t afford to do otherwise and besides I thought it would be fun to give it a go. Please tell me what you think. Making the cover has indeed been fun, and frustrating, and irritating, and rewarding, and a huge time eater. I promise to listen to all comments good or bad and take them on board.

I hope you are all well and surviving if not thriving in this time of Covid. I am quite well, thank you. Life here in Australia is moving into the next phase of dealing with this horrid disease, so I am feeling quite good. How can I not, when the sun is shining and I’m surrounded by such a caring bunch?

It’s after 8pm. I think I need to eat.     Ciao for now, Rosa

P.S. Holy moly, that picture came out big. I don’t know how to fix it. Ha ha!


Heeeerrreee’s Percy…

I know I said my next post would be for Percy Rose and be up Friday just passed, but  life…better late than never.

Percy Rose, my alter-ego, has been hard at work editing and writing getting ready to publish Book 1 of the Beaufort’s Landing Mystery Series–Psychic or Psycho–on Amazon in a few short weeks. The series will be easy reading; no blood and guts, no overt sex, just a cracking story with lots of suspects. See if you can discover ‘who-dunit‘. The front cover is ready to go, I think. Might put up a preview of that just before publishing.

Writing is well under way for Book 2, Killer Crocodile, and cover is ready also.

Covers are ready for the Psychological Thriller Series, R.I.P., D.O.A., & C.I.B.which will be published some time this year.

One of the hardest things I’ve found is knowing when enough editing and titivating is enough. I am going to bite the bullet … soon. In anticipation of that, I am going to put up the first page of Psychic or Psycho and ask you all for feed-back.


Instead of getting on with the washing up, Xelma’s hands lay still in the warm, sudsy dishwater. She stood staring out of the window at the ocean and sky; thinking of nothing in particular, unless enjoying her freedom and safety counted as thinking.

It was strange that hiding out in tropical North Queensland, in the two railcarriages that had belonged to her grandparents, could be considered freedom. Al Gottoni, her ex, had a lot to answer for. Still, it could be worse. This place was full of the presence of her maternal Grandmother, Sally Beaufort. Xelma had loved coming to visit her grandparents when she was a child. Six weeks of running wild in the bush and on the beach every Christmas holiday was a true escape from suburban Brisbane.

Thank God, Xelma had inherited the property. Thank God, she had never told Al about it.

Xelma shook her head refocussing, and studied her reflection in the window. She touched her baldhead with a sudsy hand. All her hair, gone. Anxiety induced alopecia, the doctor had said. She looked like her grandmother.

The last time she saw Grandma Sally she didn’t look like Grandma at all. Xelma was ten. Grandma was laying in a box, dressed in her Sunday-best outfit, a neatly fitting dress of florals in her favourite shades of pink and soft purples on the darkest blue background. There were roses, stasis, bleeding heart, and ginger in her hands and all around her face. Grandma was justly proud of the flower garden framing her humble home. What a magician she’d been, to grow roses in such an unlikely setting. In the coffin, her lovely face was pale and slack-skinned instead of animated and kindly.

Young Xelma’s mind had filled with the white noise of confusion and anger; why had her Grandmother died? What did that even mean? Where had Grandma Sally gone? That empty shell could not be her.

It was weird that she should find herself back here now. She smiled and thought, thank you Grandpa Beaufort, you ill-tempered curmudgeon. Xelma’s mind again filled with the white noise of conflicting emotions.

The hairs on the nape of Xelma’s neck stood to attention. Someone was in her house. She felt their presence. Oh no. She spun around searching the interior of her little home.

In the far corner, leaning on the windowsill with her arms akimbo stood Grandma Sally.


Okay, if you read this far, you have to comment…please…

Ciao for now, Rosa