Angela's Epistles by Rita Kruger Book Tour and Giveaway :)
The
Gap Year
Angela's
Epistles Book 1
by
Rita Kruger
Genre:
SciFi LGBT Romance
Angela
Wright might have everything her father's money can buy, but that
meant nothing to her on the night of her twenty-eight birthday. She
is angry and a little bit drunk as she flees the scene of a fight
with her mother.
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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“My gawd,” a voice said behind her. Angela turned to see two teenage girls standing there with their mother. They were on the new treadmill bikes, where you walked on a treadmill like conveyer strip, and this created power to drive the bike. To Angela the ‘bike’ looked more like a skateboard with a handle. She considered getting herself one, but then decided to spend the money on an AI lover instead. She got an older model. The saleswoman told her that he looked like Brad Pitt, whoever the hell that was. But at least now she could have cuddles- and more, as needed- and not have to run into the first available man’s arms. The girl’s eyes were on the dress. It was quite exquisite, she thought earlier when she put it on. A figure-hugging dress covered in tiny silver sequins that weighted down on her like a heavy hand… or a tainted conscience. “Is that a Clayton?” the blue haired girl asked. “It sure is,” Angela said with a smile. Gasps rose all around her. Some people liked Clay for his brand. Designer to the stars and the extremely rich and famous. Appointment by invitation only. She hated him because he was a brutal man who hit his girlfriends when they didn’t obey his every command. Under the dress were two small scars made by his rings. They would always be there to remind her of that mistake. The emotional scars on her mind would be with her forever. And to avoid stupidity like that, Brad Pitt was worth every credit she spent so far, and any future updates to software or maintenance that might need to be paid. He was a great listener, cuddled like a dream, didn’t complain when she slept with one arm and leg draped over him, and performed beyond expectations in all the required departments.
Sins
of the Fathers
Angela's
Epistles Book 2
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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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.”
Dancing
in the Dark
Angela's
Epistles Book 3
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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“So tell me what happened before I go
crazy.” “He left something on the doorstep,” Bren
said, and shook her head as if she wanted to rid herself of something really
bad. “It probably wasn’t flowers and
chocolates,” Angela said. “By the look on your face.” “It was blood.” “Blood?” Bren coughed to clear her throat. Nodded.
Coughed again. “Three wine bottles, neatly cleaned, filled
with blood,” Bren said. “And a nice hand-written card.” “Human blood?” “It’s at the police lab for testing. We’ll
know in the morning.” “You saw the detective that helped Thomas
and Sarah the night they were kicked out?” “Yes,” Bren said. “Detective Peacock.” “What did he say?” “He took a statement from me and Thomas.
Sent a team of investigators to our home. They took finger prints and shoe
prints and all kinds of stuff. But the detective said it might all just be
ours.” “That’s true.” “So we are waiting to hear from them.” “Did he text again?” “Only to say there was a gift waiting.
Nothing else.” “That’s strange,” Angela said. “Trim suggested that he gets a thrill out
of seeing my reaction to the texts,” Bren said. “And since we removed all the
cameras inside, it has lost its power.” “If that is true,” Angela said, “and I do
believe it might be, he would have been watching you as you went for the gift.” “You think?” Bren asked, her eyes large and
filled with fear. “I do.” “Gawd,” Bren cried, “I just want this to be
over.” “Me too, babes. Where’s Trim?” “Outside. Patrolling the border, as he puts
it.” “He went with you to the police station?” “He didn’t,” Bren said. “Insisted that as
few people as possible should know of his presence. Says he is our,” Bren made
quotation brackets in the air with her fingers, “secret weapon.” “I love the idea,” Angela said. “To
outsiders he will look like a wild creature, at most a beloved pet. Who would
ever guess he has intelligence, or expect his strength?” Bren nodded. “That is true.” “Secret weapon,” Angela smiled. “You’d
swear he had been doing this all his life.” “Maybe he dreamed about it all his life?” “He was in the resistance movement,” Angela
said. “So he probably learned a thing or two.” “Like setting traps? That would be nice,”
Bren said. “Imagine waking up tomorrow morning and
there the perv is, hanging from the oak tree in the back.” Bren smiled. “Oh, how I wish.”
Dark
Eclipse
Angela's
Epistles Book 4
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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“I have no idea what any of this is, but it
smells delicious,” he said. “He ate most of the cupcakes all by
himself,” Angela told Sarah. “That’s a lie!” he defended himself. “Bren
had half, and Francis … don’t even get me started on how many she ate.” “Don’t blame me,” Francis said, waving her
index finger at him. “You still had more than both of us together.” “Okay,” he said. “This is what I recognize
because we have it where I come from. Green beans.” He pointed at each as he
mentioned their names. “Carrots, although these are very small, and are those
potatoes?” “Baby carrots we call them,” Angela said.
“And yes, these are potatoes that have been oven roasted. The bowls you skipped
were white rice, here,” she pointed at the bowl, “which is a grain. And these
are meat. Roasted chicken and this here is meat loaf with gravy.” “Meat, as in flesh?” “Yes,” Angela said. “I know you’ve never
had them, but they are good for you. Especially if you want to gain weight.” “I’m not sure I want to,” he said. “You don’t want to gain weight?” Angela
asked. “He doesn’t want to eat meat,” Francis
said. Angelo only nodded his agreement. “My father is a vegan too,” Francis said.
“He does not eat any animal products at all.” “I was a vegetarian for a few years in high
school,” Angela said. “It’s perfectly in your right to not want
to eat meat,” Sarah said. “I’ll make sure to bring you something with lots of
protein next time. It will still help you gain weight and make you strong
enough to leave the hospital soon.” “Thank you, Sarah,” he said with a nod of
his head. “The more I think about it, the more I don’t want to eat flesh.” “Meat,” Angela said. “We call it meat.” “A rose by any other name…” Angelo quoted. “Shakespeare!” Thomas shouted. “You read
the man’s work?” “Father always brought me books when he
came to Earth,” Angelo said. “He said the classics where the best, and since we
spend so much time in hiding, reading was the perfect activity. You could do it
anywhere, and it made no noise.” “What was your favourite?” Sarah asked. “The Count of Monte Cristo, of course,”
Angelo answered. “Why?” Angela asked. “I hated that one.” “That is because you were free,” Angelo
said. “I identified with him. My whole life was spent in confinement, and I
considered myself innocent of the crimes which I had been accused of.” Francis touched him lightly on the shoulder
with her hand, and when he looked up at her, she gave him the widest smile
ever. “But am I free?” he asked. “There was a
poetess from your planet, long ago. Emma Lazarus. I read her because I liked
her surname. Lazarus was the one who died and was resurrected in another
ancient document from Earth. But she said the following …” He coughed into his
hand. “Until we are all free, we are none of us
free,” Sarah said. Angelo turned to look at Sarah. “Exactly,”
he said. “I don’t consider myself free. I am in a better position than I used
to be, but that doesn’t make me free. It only adds a greater responsibility to
me. My fight for freedom continues until the war upon it is won, and all
creatures of Uranus are free.” “Then you are in the right place, son,”
Thomas said. “Angela and I have been looking at the Future Foundation Mining
Company for weeks.” “Why?” he asked, looking at Angela. “Because of Trim,” she told him. “And the
way he and his people have been treated.” “Thank you,” Trim said. “For acknowledging
that there is something wrong in that system.” “You are not the only tribe that suffered
under the hands of this company,” Angela told him. “So far we have found that
where ever they go, they follow the same procedure. They select a tribe that
would work like slaves, and then start to create the idea, with propaganda and
biased research, that they were less than the others on that planet. And wham,
bam, thank you ma’am, they have a workforce that costs them nothing.” “Cost effective for the company,” Thomas
said. “But the tribe has to pay the price.” “Are there other planets where the workers
are rebelling?” Trim asked. “If there is a hammer, there are people
fighting,” Sarah said. “There is always a hammer,” Angelo said.
“Father taught me this.” “Not here on Earth,” Angela said. “Tax is a hammer,” he told her. “Your
inheritance, once you receive it, will become a hammer.” “How so?” she asked. “Because it comes with a responsibility to
continue the accumulating of wealth,” he told her. “And you have no idea of how
your family has acquired wealth in the past, or how they are accumulating it right
as we speak.” “I’ve never been interested in my family’s
business,” she said.
Masquerade
Angela's
Epistles Book 5
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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Close
Cuts
Angela's
Epistles Book 6
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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Rita
Kruger lives in Vereeniging, South Africa. She is wife,
granddaughter, daughter, mother, and grandmother. Most of childhood
happened within the pages of books. Stories conspired to carry her
away from the world she knew. The places and people books introduced
her to were much more exciting than her boring existence.
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.
How do you select the names of your characters?
I usually start writing a story with MC1 and MC2. MC refers
to Main Character. MV would be Main Villain. I allow the characters to tell me
their names as I go along. I was writing one day and when I got to MC2 I heard
“Bren” in my head and typed it in automatically. But Angela whispered her name
to me in a dream one night when the first book was almost completed.
If you didn’t write, what would you do for work?
Read palms?
What was your hardest scene to write?
I have a dark epic fantasy series coming in 2020. Three of
those stories are completed and have several scenes that were emotionally
difficult to write. Killing off a young girl’s mother. Having that girl kill a
monster returning that looks like her mother later in the book.
In Angela’s Epistles, there were several hard scenes between
Angela and Bren that were emotionally challenging for me.
Do you Google yourself?
No. But I am told authors need to do so in order to see if
their social media platforms are effectively reaching people. It seems weird to
me.
What is the most difficult part of your artistic process?
Procrastination. I have to fight my urge to leave everything
to the last minute.
Does your family support your career as a writer?
My mother does indeed. I have a paranormal romance that is on
the edge of horror. Once she read that, she looked at me and asked: “what did I
do wrong to make you turn into the person that can write this?”
So, she’s not reading anything I write more, but she tells me
to go on and supports me in my career.
How long on average does it take you to write a book?
It depends on the books. Most of Angela’s Epistles were done
in two to three weeks. But the dark epic fantasies centres around mythology and
required a lot of research. For most of them I spend about a month in research
before I even started to put pen to paper.
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