Author Chat With Chas Murrell

For my stop on the Yearn to Fear blog tour, I have an author Q&A for you all!

Book Blurb:

The greatest scientific invention of modern times… Capable of curing humanity… But more adept at controlling it… Sydney scientist, Marcus Hall, is developing a radical 5G Wi-Fi receiver for CSIRO. With access to secretive Lamarr computer chips – this technology promises billions to repair Australia’s ravaged economy. On a caffeine boosted whim, he inadvertently discovers a therapeutic breakthrough in neuroscience. Or so he thinks…

His seemingly trustworthy lab partner, Henry, is an unlikely Australian spy. His official duty is keeping tabs on the project and their Lamarr chips. But the whole project is now classified top-secret. Marcus remains blissfully unaware of the many secrets surrounding him, until he witnesses the graphic murder of a colleague. Could this event reveal Henry as a master deceiver and ruthless double agent? Will the scientific discovery be fatal for Marcus, those he loves, and the one he yearns for? Marcus faces a soul tearing dilemma: is the only means of stopping the carnage to weaponise his prototype?

Foreign intelligence agencies realise the top-secret breakthrough is priceless. One particular spy leads the race to seize the invention. A psychological master of the long game, espionage, and extortion, his only rule according to Kung Fu: Win.

Friend and foe alike confront this psychotic mastermind. All will FEAR him, but is their FEAR real? Only the next six minutes will tell…

About Chas Murrell:

Chas Murrell has been a Police Officer, Senior Fire Commander, Customs Coastwatch surveillance mission co-ordinator, heavy machinery mechanic, emergency medical technician/ instructor, film extra, and General Manager of an event company. He has published academic papers on liquid hydrogen and held a worldwide provisional patent for a nonlinear mathematical calculation. He survived Australia’s largest gas BLEVE in 1987, and has provided operational support to some of Australia’s largest natural disasters in North Queensland. On a personal level he has suffered from relentless and debilitating migraines all his life, is father to four and pop to two. He and his artistically entrepreneurial wife live in Tasmania, which looks very much like Scotland and they wouldn’t have it any other way. A direct descendant of Robert the Bruce (King of Scots), history runs deep in Chas’s veins, along with a profound knowledge of both World Wars. You may even come across him online playing World of Tanks. In his Australian spy thriller books you will get to know Chas’s knowledge of technology, intrigue, crime, espionage, weaponry, banter, romance and even whisky… yet above all, there is believability and no loose ends.

Author Q&A:

First of all, can you please tell us about your latest book:

Yearn to Fear is set in Sydney Australia and involves many elements including romance, tactical situations, betrayal, suspense, mystery, all those things you like to find in a thriller. There’s empowered women and twists and turns I carefully planned to keep you ‘on your toes.’ I have a particular sense of humour which is throughout the book. Pre-covid I would listen to sometimes 3-5 books a week of similar genre and I’ve not listened to anything like my book, says me without bias lol.

What three words would you use to describe your novel?

Page turning thriller!

Where do you find inspiration for your books?

Yearn to Fear is my first book, but to be honest most of it came straight out of my head. My working life is quite unique and facilitated the writing. The prologue is based on an actual incident when I was a 19 year old Policeman, (although the real life outcome was different). I actually wasn’t aware there are 5G conspiracy theorists until over 1/3 way through writing the book! In the 2 ½ months of actually writing the first draft I did 3 days research.

Do you have any rules for writing you would like to share with us?

I don’t really have any rules, I know some writers do have very rigid rules about things like when, but not so myself.

What characteristics/personality traits do you and your lead character have in common?

LOL good question. Plenty! Marcus is well meaning but essentially shy and finds it awkward being in romantic situations. Marcus was perhaps the easiest character to write, although he’s not meant to be me. Most of the characters (with the exception of Peter the main villain), are based on people I know.

If your book/series was made into a movie, which famous actor/s would play the lead characters?

Henry Cavill, Chris Hemsworth and his wife Elsa Pataky. Food for thought, I should think a little more on that one!

Who is your writing hero?

Can I say I don’t have one? I enjoy lots of books / genres but not one person in particular. Although, having said that the Outlander series of books (and the tv series), are amazing – thank you Diana!

Which book do you wish you had written?

To be honest, I find it hard enough to believe I wrote Yearn to Fear, let alone anything else! lol

What advice would you give to someone considering taking the plunge and attempting to write their first novel?

It’s your book, it will become part of you, but try not to be too precious with it. Try to enjoy the journey. You can make happen whatever you want to happen, you have complete control over the future of your plot and its’ characters, don’t be constricted.

If you could have a dinner party and invite three other writers (living or dead), who would you invite?

The choice of 3 people is a bit of a toughy, could we make it 30 perhaps and make an event of it?? I’d love to meet at least one very distant relative… So, Robert The Bruce for one, (my 21st grandfather). William Wallace (since they know each other), and I’m sure they could kick start the conversation if there were any awkward silences… and Queen Elizabeth 1st (a couple of hundred years later). It would be fascinating now matter what you talked about.

What’s the one question you wish I had asked and what’s the answer?

What are the lotto numbers for thursday next week? 30, 12, 1, 9, 27, 33.

Extract from Comeback by Chris Limb

For my stop on the Comeback blog tour, I have an exclusive extract for you!

Book Blurb:

Genie has everything – a BRIT award, a singing career, the attention of the press and Oliver Fox, a pretty boy who looks good on her arm.

Until he dies.

His death brings Genie’s long buried feelings bubbling to the surface. Her grief over the death of her lover Wendi who introduced her to this world. Her self doubt and fear that she will be exposed as a fraud.

How far is she prepared to go to fix things?

The afterlife isn’t the most comfortable of places for anyone who’s still alive, but Genie’s not going to take any crap from the dead – she’s got years of experience in the music business.

Sometimes going to Hell and back takes a lifetime…

About Chris Limb:

Chris is a writer based in UK, who has had a number of short stories published over the past few years, blogs on a regular basis and occasionally reviews books and audios for the British Fantasy Society. Chris wrote a short pop memoir which was published in 2011 and went down well with its core-audience. It continues to sell at a steady rate to this day. Chris also plays bass guitar and performs random acts of web and graphic design for a diverse selection of clients.

Extract:

Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk… Squeeeeeeeeeeeee…

Genie opened her eyes and found herself staring at some grubby tiles from a distance of about two inches. There was a grey blob of chewing gum stuck to one of them. OK. That was a bit odd.

Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk… Squeeeeeeeeeeeee…

What was that bloody noise? Where was she? How had she got here? Her last memories were blurred ones; she’d been on her own, back in the flat, fucked up on vodka and coke. This was not the flat. A cold, liquid fear flooded through her as she realised what must have happened.

Blackout.

Her consciousness had walked out on her and she’d left the flat. What had she been up to? Had someone done something to her? Who else was involved? She was lying face down on the ground. Had she fallen or was she pushed? Were they still around here somewhere?

Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk… Squeeeeeeeeeeeee…

She climbed to her feet, wincing at the sooty grime all over her hands and the front of her dressing gown. The dressing gown. Fuck! She hadn’t even got dressed.

How long had she been lying there? Hours? Her head was much clearer than it had been back in the flat. Where was the hangover? Where was the headache, the nausea? She looked about.

She was in a dimly lit hallway decorated with purple-and-cream ceramic tiles, the air warm and stale, filled with the smell of burnt dust and urine. Shit. This had to be a tube station. Closed for the night of course. How had she got in? How was she going to get out?

She hated blackouts.

At one end of the hall, a dark archway was sealed by a filthy brass scissor-gate. She crept towards it, careful not to step in the occasional puddles which she had a nasty suspicion were the source of the worst part of the general odour.

Blackouts were the worst.

Beyond was a grimy, unlit passage that ran at right angles to the door, disappearing off into dusty darkness to both left and right, torn posters peeling from the wall opposite her so grimed in dirt as to be unreadable. The gate was held closed by a large padlock. She pulled at it. It barely moved; she wasn’t getting out this way.

She probably couldn’t have got in this way either.

She spun about. At the other end of the chamber, she could see that it turned a sharp right angle.

Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk… Squeeeeeeeeeeeee…

So that was where the bloody noise was coming from. Squaring her shoulders, she strode forwards and around the corner.

The ceiling fell away upwards to at least twice its previous height, and the area was better lit. In front of her, a tunnel led away downwards at a sharp angle containing the source of the noise – two old-fashioned wooden escalators. Both going down.

Above the escalator shaft a large, chipped enamel sign was mounted, displaying blocky white capital letters on a navy-blue background. Definitely a tube station.

TenarO

The name was familiar, but she couldn’t have said what line it was on. She preferred taking taxis. It sounded like the name of one of those swanky new stations on the Jubilee line, but the decor was definitely Northern line squalid.

She stepped forward and eyed the shiny metal teeth between which the battered slats of the steps squeezed out. She felt nervous and vulnerable, her heart beating fast – though not fast enough for a fully blown panic attack, thank fuck. Blackouts always gave her the fear, and this time she had no fucking clue where she was.

There was something wrong about going barefoot on an escalator, but it was the only way forward, the only way out. Before she could change her mind, she ran onto the left-hand one and was swept along the short horizontal stretch and down onto the steep incline.

There were no posters on the walls, just more of the purple-and-cream tiles. The flat area between the two escalators contained ornate art deco uplighters every couple of metres that cast blobs of jaundiced light on the curved ceiling overhead. And ahead of her…

Down.

The escalators stretched to infinity, with perfect perspective. Her head spun and she closed her eyes, gripping the black rubber handrail.

Fuck it. Where else was she going to find a way out?