Thursday 18 December 2014

Blog Tour: Warrant For Love by Sheryl Browne.

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Join in the fun as laugh-a-minute author Sheryl Browne sets off on tour with her arresting read, Warrant For Love. We'll be heading to some of the biggest and brightest blogs within the book community for reviews, excerpts and guest posts. Plus, there's a giveaway running for the duration of the tour that you won't want to miss!

Title: Warrant For Love.
Author: Sheryl Browne.
Publisher: Safkhet.
Genre: Romantic Comedy.

Purchase: Amazon UK | Amazon US

Life for Paul sounds like your typical country song. He comes from a broken home, his wife is divorcing him, he's got no place to live, he's losing custody of his son, and his sergeant, who's sleeping with his wife, is a loud-mouthed braggart who won't let up on him – not even at work.

Leanne's caught her (now) ex cheating on her again, but before she can give him the what-for, she's wrongfully arrested for soliciting – by Paul and his partner. One thing leads to another and things could be looking up for Paul, except for Leanne's friends – quarrelling mom Nicky and financial goddess Jade – have it out for her ex.

Leanne wants closure, Paul wants a home, and Nicky and Jade want revenge. Blackmail, lies, adultery, entrapment. Will it all work out in the end or will Paul uphold the law? It sounds like he needs a Warrant for Love.


Read my five star review here!

‘Come on, Lee, please pick up.’ Nothing. She must have unplugged the phone. And switched off her mobile.

And Paul wondered why.

Because he’d been a complete bloody idiot, was why. She was about as capable of deceit as having her dog put down, and he knew it.

Paul rammed the car into reverse. Why hadn’t he gone home and talked to her instead of waiting until sun up to come to his senses?

So, what did he do now? Skulk back with lame excuses, hoping she’d offer one for Simons being there without him having to ask, or skulk into the station later than he already was, which wouldn’t go down well.

He wouldn’t be any use to anyone without a job.

Paul pulled into the car park, and headed for the station, hoping he could get hold of Lee before lunch. Determined to find her if he didn’t. At work. At home. Wherever.

He passed through reception unnoticed. Cummings’ attention was diverted. Some kid dealing drugs it looked like, which could have been his destiny if not for Mike’s intervention.

Still no answer from Lee. Paul pocketed his mobile, and slipped into the gents’, intending to make himself presentable before anyone noticed his appearance, which was definitely unacceptable after a night spent in the car.

Oh, crap. He gulped and swiftly about-faced back to the door.

‘Davis?’ the DI called behind him.

Paul turned around apprehensively. That was it. He was stuffed.

The DI looked him up and down. ‘Are you having a laugh, Davis?’ he asked, his tone worryingly quiet.

Paul dropped his gaze. ‘No, Sir.’

‘I’ll see you directly after you’re off duty.’ DI Short brushed past him. ‘And I suggest you make use of Sergeant Cummings’ razor before you go on duty.’

Paul ran his hand over his neck as the restroom door closed behind him. ‘With all due respect, Sir,’ he muttered, ‘I’d rather cut my throat.’

He glanced at the ceiling, despairing. Someone was having a laugh. That was for sure.

Paul threw cold water over his face, raked his hair back, and glanced in the mirror. That worked, he thought, straightening his tie till it almost strangled him. Disgrace to his uniform was about right. Short had every right to give him a written.

‘Things can only get better.’ He shrugged dejectedly, plopped his cap on, and headed for the patrol car, where Mike was already checking his watch.

‘Back to not shaving, are we, Davis?’ He eyed Paul accusingly. Paul noted the look. So, Mike had still got his arse in his hands. C’est la-vie. ‘Got your Bassets?’ he tried.

Mike nodded.

Paul shrugged. He didn’t feel much like talking anyway. Maybe he should put in for a change of partner? No. Mike couldn’t keep this up forever, could he? ‘Burger?’ Paul asked hopefully. Surely he wouldn’t pass on McDonalds. Nothing got in the way of Mike’s stomach.

‘Nah. Appetite’s a bit off lately. We’ve a shout anyway.’

Saved by the bell. Paul shook his head as Mike answered the call.

‘Responding,’ Mike said tersely. ‘Brilliant. Just what the doctor ordered. Bloody domestic, wouldn’t you know it.’


‘Neighbour said the shouting and screaming stopped abruptly. Could be a bit iffy this one, so make sure you’re on your toes, Paul.’

‘Mike, I’ve got the message! I can do my job. Okay?’

‘You look a bit distracted, that’s all.’

Yes, well, I would. Paul tensed his grip on the wheel. And this, I could do without.


‘Looks a bit sombre.’ Mike glanced at the weatherworn walls of what was once a desirable residence.

‘Which neighbour lodged the complaint?’ Paul scanned the area.Closest was a good hundred yards away. Must have been one hell of an argument.

‘Anonymous, as usual.’ Mike shrugged. ‘You take the front. I’ll check out the back.’ He hesitated as he climbed out of the patrol car. ‘You have got your walkie-talkie?’

‘No, Mike. I thought I’d break into a rendition of Sexy Thing if I spotted anything suspicious.’

‘Just checking,’ Mike said, without a hint of a smile. ‘Helps if you’re in communication with your partner, doesn’t it?’

Paul smiled despondently. ‘Yeah, right.’

‘We’ll meet back here in five.’ Mike headed off for the side passage whilst Paul skirted around an abandoned car.

Looked like an ancient Truimph Vitesse. Blimey, this place was stuck in a time warp. Everything seemed to be a relic from the sixties, including the furniture. Paul shrugged off a weird feeling of déjà vu as he peered through the living room window at the ancient sofa, which might have been the very one he’d crouched scared shitless behind aeons ago, only to be found.

Always to be found.

Would home ever be a safe place to be, he wondered idly. Then pulled himself up. Concentrate, Paul, he reminded himself. Keep the mind on the job.

The doorbell wasn’t likely to be working. Not that whoever might be inside was likely to answer it. He flapped the letterbox closed and took a step back to glance up at the bedroom windows, dark inside, like blind eyes, watching him. A cold shiver snaked its way down Paul’s spine. This place gave him the creeps.

‘Anything?’ Mike reappeared from the side gate.

‘Nothing,’ Paul replied, still watching the main bedroom window. Something was bugging him. Assuming the legally-taxed Mini also out front was roadworthy, someone must be home. So, why so quiet?

Too bloody quiet. ‘Do we go in?’

‘I suppose. You did ring the bell, I take it?’

‘No, Mike. I shouted Avon-Lady through the letterbox, which is why they’re not answering the door.’

Was Mike ever going to stop reminding him he’d screwed up? Paul ran his hand over his neck and turned to the patrol car. ‘I’ll call in,’ he said quietly, glancing at Mike, who was obviously as keen to divorce him as Kate was, which was when the unmistakable glint of sun bouncing-off-metal sliced through his vision. Oh…

Fuck! he thought.

He couldn’t think much beyond that… other than how much it hurt.

I’m an author, as you might have gathered, I work part time in my own business and I’m a school critique partner.

I’m also a foster parent to disabled dogs, one or two of whom have featured in my books, Snoops aka Rambo, for instance, who starred in Recipes for Disaster. You can find out more about my dogs, including my Pets as Therapy dog, who was rather unique, on my 'Furry Friends' page.

Deciding the balls I was already juggling weren’t humungous enough, I also embarked on an MA in Creative Writing at the City of Birmingham University. I’m pleased to say I have just finished my Final Project, completing my stage-play around my book, A Little Bit of Madness. Did I mention that scenes have already been work-shopped on stage at the Birmingham Rep, my leading man being Dan Hagley from BBC Radio 4’s, The Archers? I did? Oops.

I’m a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, “formed over fifty years ago in order to ‘raise the prestige of romantic authorship and generally to encourage and foster the writing of romantic works’, a contributing editor at Loveahappyending Lifestyle magazine, and have recently signed with publishers Choc Lit.

I also have a bit of penchant for men in bite-the-buttons-off blue uniforms, having been rescued by one such white-knight-in-blue when my car self-combusted on the motorway.

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Enter Sheryl's giveaway to win yourself a signed paperback of Warrant for Love + ecopies of Somebody to Love and The Edge of Sanity.

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Sheryl Browne and CandleLit Author Services reserve the right to cancel or amend this giveaway at any time and without prior notification. No responsibility is taken for non-delivery of prizes.


  1. Oh, no! Poor Paul! OMG! I'd better read the next bit quick! :) Thank you soooo much for my lovely feature, Sophie. And Also for your fabulous review earlier in the year. I shall have a wee share of both. Thrilled! Have a lovely Christmas, sweetie. A time of reflection on the good memories, hopefully. :) XXX

    1. We'll look after him! ;) My pleasure, and happy Christmas to you :) xxx


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