This is a column published in the Putnam Herald on Wednesday, June 5th.

Some years ago, I spent a summer vacation in Northern France. We stayed in a small hotel on the coast and I clearly remember walking along a wide, buff-colored beach in the early morning sun. It was warm, the sky was blue, the ocean calm and the sand was almost deserted apart from a few families scattered here and there below the low bluffs, above which seagulls lazily circled. It was an idyllic scene but, seventy-five years ago tomorrow it would have looked very different.

At that time Germany was in control of most of Europe. The bluffs above the beach were festooned with barbed wire, protecting big gun emplacements and numerous machine-gun nests, while at the tideline steel, concrete and mined wooden obstacles stood waiting for any unwary craft that came near them.

The craft did come, many hundreds of them, each carrying dozens of young Americans. These were soldiers of the 29^th Infantry Division and that morning they landed on the beach that, by the end of the day, would have earned the name “Bloody Omaha”.

This was D Day, June 6, 1944 and the Allied invasion of Europe was on. The landings had started in the dark hours just after midnight when around 15,500 men of the US 82^nd and 101^st Airborne Divisions dropped from the skies into the darkness of the Normandy countryside.

These paratroops, along with their British comrades, spread chaos among the German units along the coast, helping to prepare for the 156,000 allied soldiers who poured ashore from the numerous ships and landing craft.

In some places these seaborne warriors found little resistance, some of the Canadian troops were already pushing inland within an hour of the landings, but the 34,250 men who stormed on to Omaha beach the situation was different. Here, only two tanks made it ashore and the artillery, mortar and machine-gun fire from the well-prepared enemy positions was devastating.

Around four and a half thousand of the invaders became casualties that day with almost half of them falling on Omaha beach. Among those who made the ultimate sacrifice were several from West Virginia and the initial casualty list of those killed in action bore thirty-eight names from all over the state, although there were hundreds of other Mountaineers who were there of course.

One of the first to land was Sergeant Clifford Carwood Lipton, a native of Huntington. He served as jumpmaster on a C47 and parachuted into the swampy fields of Normandy with the rest of Easy Company of the 506^th Parachute Infantry Regiment, the unit made famous by the HBO series “Band of Brothers.’

Lipton landed in darkness away from his drop zone but soon made contact with other members of his unit. He was in action all through the long day that ensued and, as nightfall came he’d earned a purple heart after being wounded by shrapnel and a bronze star for his actions in silencing an enemy artillery battery at Brecourt Manor. He fought on throughout the rest of the war, earning two more purple hearts and a second bronze star as well as a battlefield commission. He finished the war as a First Lieutenant and passed away in 2001.

Lipton wasn’t the only West Virginian jumping into the unknown that night. Harrison Summers of Rivesville in Marion County was with the 502^nd Regiment of the 101^st Airborne and his unit swiftly seized their objective. Summers was then tasked with capturing a group of buildings. These proved to be a German barracks and with just two companions Summers attacked them. Five hours later he’d captured them, killed 31 of the enemy and sent many more running for their lives. He was recommended for the Congressional Medal of Honor at the time and again after his death in 1983 but received the Distinguished Service Cross instead. He too finished the war as a First Lieutenant and spent the rest of his life working in West Virginia’s coal mines.

As dawn broke and Lipton and Summers were fighting near the Normandy town of Carentan, Pierre Gunnoe from Boone County was with his unit, the 5^th Ranger Battalion, in a landing craft approaching the Dog Green sector of Omaha Beach. This was the most heavily defended sector of the whole invasion coast and the unit started to take casualties before they came ashore at around 6:30. The survivors reached the beach and stormed a pillbox to open the way for the waves of men behind them. Gunnoe was lucky, he received a minor flesh wound but the rest of his unit suffered more than 75% casualties. Gunnoe was to be wounded another 4 times and passed away in 2000.

These were just three of the West Virginians who took part in the invasion seventy-five years ago, there were many others from the Mountain State who played their part too. George Wehrle, for instance, was a seaman aboard the heavy cruiser USS Tuscaloosa. He didn’t land in France that day but he left a diary detailing the aerial assault and how his ship moved in toward the shore to provide supporting fire for the ground troops despite being targeted by enemy shore batteries.

Vincent Di Bacco from Tucker County wasn’t in the first waves of the assault, he was a medic who landed on Omaha Beach with an engineering battalion around 10:00 a.m. He later described the scene that met his eyes as “something from hell.” The assault troops were pinned down all along the shore line, the mortar and machine gun fire was incessant and there were so many wounded he worked non-stop until well into the night. Di Bacco was lucky, he survived the war, as did his two brothers, who also served.

Hundreds of West Virginian natives were there seventy-five years ago. Unfortunately most of them have gone to a better place now but their deeds will be remembered tomorrow. President Trump will be taking part in the commemorative services as will members of the Royal Family and representatives of the governments of many of the countries whose men and women played a part in freeing the world from tyranny. Once again the boats will come ashore and the planes will roar overhead, one of them carrying at least two men in their nineties who will be making tandem jumps with the British parachute display team and who last parachuted into Normandy in 1944. 

Many years have passed and the world is a different place, but it’s different because of what these men did and so it’s only right that we should remember them on this anniversary of their sacrifice. Remember them and those who continue to serve to ensure we keep our hard won freedom.

My column

As you can see, I’ve rather neglected this blog over the past few months. The problem is I don’t seem to have time, I’m always writing a novel or sometimes two and my weekly column in the Putnam Herald newspaper takes time to research and write so there just doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day.

It’s the newspaper column that has prompted this post. I receive frequent emails from readers and twice lately people have asked if I could put my articles on a blog so they could let friends and relatives who don’t get the Herald read them.

I’m always happy to give readers what they want if I can and so here is the first of these articles. My editor used the headline, First Three Soldiers Killed in American Revolution. I simply called it April Morning.

This week marks the 244^th anniversary of the deaths of Thomas Smith, Patrick Gray, and James Hall. These men were not rich and they were not famous. Almost certainly they were not well educated, they did nothing outstanding and the only reason that history remembers their names is because they died.

They probably came from the county of Lancashire, in north-west England, and met their ends on a bridge more than three thousand miles from their homes.

So, who were these men and why did they die? They were soldiers, red-coated privates in the light company of the British 4^th, King’s Own, Regiment of Foot. The year was 1775 and their regiment, along with three thousand other soldiers, was stationed in the port of Boston.

They were not welcome guests. The Province of Massachusetts Bay, as it was then known, was considered to be in a state of rebellion and tensions were running high between the army and the citizens.

Things came to a head when, on April 14, Thomas Gage, the royal governor, received orders from the parliament in London to disarm the people, to seize all military stores and to imprison the patriot leaders.

He was told that Massachusetts was sending messages to other colonies asking for support and so he decided to act swiftly. Orders were drawn up for an expedition to capture military equipment that was said to be hidden in the town of Concord. Lt. Colonel Francis Smith was to command and he ordered the grenadier and light infantry companies from 11 regiments to be mustered on Boston Common late in the evening of April 18^th.  Privates Smith, Gray and Hall were among those who were awakened and who marched across the Common to the water’s edge where the Royal Navy’s boats were to ferry them across to Cambridge.

The expedition was badly organized. Our three soldiers found there were not enough boats, they had to wait and when they finally boarded one it was so crowded they could not sit down. On top of that, when they reached the opposite shore they were off-loaded into waist-deep cold water at midnight.

That wasn’t the end of the problems. It took two hours to unload the expedition’s equipment and it was well after two a.m. before they began marching in wet boots toward Lexington where, because of the delays, the alarm had already been raised..

They reached the town at about five o’clock in the morning and our three soldiers’ company was there on the green when someone fired a shot, the British redcoats lost control, returned fire and several of the Lexington militia were killed.

Order was restored and, instead of following the wisest course and returning to Boston, Colonel Smith ordered his column on to Concord.

 By now the countryside was thoroughly alerted. Local militia had gathered in the town and their numbers were continually increasing as companies from more distant places joined them. Despite the skirmish at Lexington they didn’t seek to engage the redcoats but were ordered to hold their fire and they withdrew to a hill top north of the town to watch what was happening.

Smith now ordered part of his force to search Concord while dispatching several companies of light infantry to look for military stores on a farm to the north. This latter column had to cross the Concord River via what was called the “North Bridge”. It was here that the militia force, gathered on the hill, could overlook the crossing and so it was decided to leave three companies to guard the bridge in case they decided to threaten it. One of these was the light company of the 4^th Foot and among them were the three men from Lancashire.

The British troops in the town found some gun carriages and other stores that they were ordered to burn. Smoke rose from among the houses and the militia on the hill thought the redcoats were burning their homes. They began to move down the slope toward the bridge.

Seeing this, the British office in command of the three light companies guarding the crossing ordered his men to form a narrow column and withdraw across the bridge to the town side. The light company of the 4^th was in the front of this formation as the militia continued to advance until the two sides were only about fifty yards apart, with the bridge between them.

By now the British troops were exhausted, they’d not slept all night, they’d been wet through, had marched twenty miles carrying heavy equipment and were now facing around five times their number of heavily armed militia. Whether by accident or intent one of them, a man from the 43^rd regiment, fired a shot and immediately two more followed suit. Thinking the order to fire had been given, those at the head of the British column fired a volley and two of the militia were killed.

That was the moment when the famous “the shot heard around the world” was fired. The militia returned fire and Thomas Smith, Patrick Gray, and James Hall fell dead on the bridge.

The British were to suffer a further 297 casualties that day and many thousands more over the next eight years before the Revolutionary War ended but these three are remembered because they were the first British soldiers to die. One of them now lies beneath a monument in the centre of Concord, while the other two are together in a well-maintained grave beneath a tree on the west side of the North Bridge, casualties of the first small step that eventually founded this nation.

Free Book

Merry Christmas and a very happy new year to you all.

To celebrate the Festive Season I have two gifts for you. The first is my novel WEOLEY is free on kindle until December 30th. you can get it here:

https://www.amazon.com/Weoley-Derek-Coleman-ebook/dp/B00HJIICFQ/ref=sr_1_15?ie=UTF8&qid=1514292052&sr=8-15&keywords=derek+coleman

I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a review.

The second gift is a festive historical short story. It's called Christmas in the colonies, enjoy:

Martin Baum was hungry, lost and far from home, very far from home. When he first took up a musket to serve his Prince he had little thought within weeks he would be transported half a world away. Now he was in a country whose language he did not speak, fighting a war he did not understand against a rag-tag army who didn’t seem to know when they were beaten.

Martin had been hungry more or less permanently since deciding the army was preferable to the never-ending labor of the farm but these last few days were particularly bad. The British sent them from the great port of New York into the New Jersey countryside to wait out the winter but supplies were intermittent and those that were sent to them were subject to attack by the American rebels.

That was why Martin was lost. He’d wandered away from the camp at Trenton because these American woods reminded him of those he’d grown up in back in Hesse. He’d always been able to find something to eat when he was there and hoped he could do the same here. He was usually pretty sure where he was in the forest but here he had managed to get turned around whilst following the tracks of a deer and now it was getting dark and he was lost. He was sure the deer he’d been tracking was ahead of him but he was by no means as certain where Trenton and his comrades were.

He had little fear of the enemy finding him. The last time he’d seen them they were a sick, beaten rabble who they’d chased across the Delaware River to die in the deep snows of Pennsylvania. The idea they might come back into New Jersey was ludicrous. He was afraid of the weather though; the north wind was blowing strongly and was bringing further flurries of snow to add to the accumulation already underfoot. He had his greatcoat but Martin knew he could not spend the night out here in the forest without freezing to death.

He stopped and slowly turned in a circle. He was sure the heavy grey sky was lighter towards his right, which meant he was probably facing south. If that was so then Trenton was somewhere behind his left shoulder and the Delaware should be close in front of him. What should he do? He was sure the deer was near by and the boys in his company had been living on hard tack and rancid salt beef for a week now. Could he risk going on a little further?

The decision was taken from him. Just ahead the trees opened out into a little clearing and out of the corner of his eye he saw a heavily laden bush suddenly shed a blizzard of snow as the deer brushed past it and stepped daintily out into the open. The animal was nervous. Head up, nostrils flared and ears alert, its muscles were bunched ready to flee at the least sound. That sound was the clicking of the flintlock on Martin’s musket. The deer leapt but Martin was brought up to hunt and the animal was dead before its feet hit the ground again.

Martin ran forward as fast as the calf deep snow would let him. He was grinning with excitement and anticipation. Venison stew was just the thing to warm a lonely sentry on a cold Christmas Eve. He propped his musket against a tree and then dropped to his knees beside the steaming carcass as he took out his bayonet ready to clean the kill.

It was a messy job but he’d done it hundreds of times before and made short work of it now. He was on one knee rubbing the bayonet clean with handfuls of snow when the twig cracked behind him. His reaction was instinctive. He made a diving roll over the butchered deer, grabbed his musket and finished on one knee in the snow facing the direction from which the sound had come.

Luckily the twig had snapped before the enemy was able to see the clearing. Now he stood at it’s opposite edge, a tall, gaunt young man, his lank hair whipping in the wind, his clothes worn and ragged, his boots cracked and tied round with cloth and the Pennsylvania rifle at his shoulder gleaming, well cared for and pointed straight at Martin’s head.

For nearly half a minute neither of them moved. The Hessian knelt in the snow, the dead deer in front of him and his musket pointed at the tall, ragged American. Martin knew how lethal these rebels could be with their long rifles and he also knew how defenseless he was because he’d stupidly not reloaded his musket after killing the deer. Fear made his stomach churn and his throat feel dry.

For his part the rebel held his rifle pointed unerringly at the German’s head. This one looked young, little more than a boy, he thought. He was too young to die but he wasn’t the first of these blue clad invaders the American had seen over the sights of his rifle and the others were all dead. Somehow though this one seemed different though. He was obviously a good hunter who appeared to know how to live in the woods and what was more he was pointing a musket unflinchingly back at him. The deer distracted the American too. It lay in front of the Hessian and the gnawing pangs of hunger kept reminding the rebel of his own need, making his eyes flick from the enemy to the meat and back again.

It was Martin who broke the impasse. He knew he could not hurt the American so he would have to use his wits to save himself. He’d seen the enemy soldier’s eyes flicking to the deer and noticed the way the tip of his tongue came out to moisten his lips as if he could already taste the meat. He guessed the rebel was starving and that gave Martin an idea.

Swallowing his fear, he forced himself to smile and slowly raised the muzzle of his musket until it pointed at the sky. Turning it sideways he showed the rebel he was lowering the lock to make it safe, then, keeping his hands in sight, he stood up and propped the weapon against the tree again.

The American tensed when Martin began to move but he didn’t fire. Instead he watched in wary puzzlement as the Hessian put his weapon aside and stood smiling at him. Martin was grinning but inside he quaked with fear. Now he was helpless. The rebel could shoot him, take the deer and be off but he had no other choice except to hope the man would go along with this idea. Silently he pointed at the carcass then in turn he pointed at the American, at himself and finally he made a chopping gesture over the deer.

What was the German doing? The American was puzzled. The enemy had deliberately disarmed himself and was now making signs, what for? What did he want? He was offering to share the deer. The rebel grinned, the thought that he could squeeze the trigger and take the whole animal had already occurred to him but he admired the enemy’s courage. He grinned, raised the muzzle of his own weapon and nodded.

The sweat was icy on Martin’s brow but he felt a surge of relief at the American’s nod. He nodded back and reached for the bayonet still lying half buried in the snow where he’d dropped it.

‘Wait!’

Martin didn’t understand the word but he froze and raised his eyes to the rebel. The tall American reached for his belt and pulled a long-handled tomahawk from it. Carefully he tossed the weapon so it landed flat in the snow beside the deer.

‘Use that,’ he said, ‘It’s better for getting through the bones.’ Again Martin didn’t understand the words but he recognized the tomahawk and, after testing the edge with his thumb, he nodded. Raising it high he brought it down onto the carcass.

In a few minutes it was done. The sweat was running from Martin’s brow and he felt warm now as he looked up to see the American leaning on his rifle watching him. Slowly he stood up, gripped the leg of one half of the deer and hefted it onto his shoulder. Retrieving his musket with his other hand he looked into the rebel’s eyes. Neither of them spoke for a moment then Martin glanced down at the other half of the deer in the snow before raising his eyes again and saying,

‘Ist das alles in ordnung mit dir?’ The American shrugged, he’d got a notion it was a question but he didn’t understand it.

‘That’s fine,’ he replied. ‘You get the hell out of here now.’

Martin glanced round at the deepening shadows. Darkness was coming fast, he’d got turned around and now he had no idea where his camp was.

‘Trenton?’ he said hopefully. The accent was harsh but the American recognized the word. He pointed to a barely discernible game trail that disappeared behind his left shoulder.

‘Trenton’ he repeated. Martin nodded and, hefting his half of the deer, trudged off without a backward glance. As soon as he was out of sight a second rebel stepped from the bushes to one side of the clearing.

‘Why’d you let him go?’ he asked. ‘That musket wasn’t loaded.’

‘I know but it was his deer,’ the first American shrugged. ‘Besides, it’s Christmas.’

The German’s ate well that night. During Martin’s absence, a supply train came in. There was fresh beef, fresh bread, cake, beer and wine to go with the venison stew. They went to bed replete and happy.

The American’s weren’t so lucky. They stayed out in the snow on the north side of the river. The night was freezing and it snowed again but the day dawned cold and clear. With the coming of the light the rag-tag army George Washington had smuggled across the Delaware in the darkness erupted from the trees, their bayonets gleaming red with the rising sun as they charged into Trenton to wish Martin Baum and his sleeping comrades a Merry Christmas.

New book

Who said I can’t meet my deadlines?

“MISSING”, the 6^th in the Dean and Steph detective series is now available on Amazon. As usual the pair find themselves facing foes dedicated to wrongdoing. This time there’s a difference though, they’re in Britain and they have to free a computer scientist before the terrorists can sell him to the highest bidder.

MISSING

  

ONE

Peter Houseman is what we Americans would call a towhead back home. His hair’s platinum blond and his eyes are blue. He’s six feet tall, slim and athletic. He plays amateur soccer, looks younger than his twenty-nine years and the fact he has a doctorate in computer science doesn’t show. He’s also single, has a grin that makes women swoon and is the big brother of Nicky Houseman, who is going to marry my cousin, Alex Mitchell, in a few days.

Alex is an international journalist and I’m Dean Witton. Together with my wife, Steph, I own Teay’s Valley Investigations, a private investigation company with two offices in West Virginia and a third in Ohio. The business always keeps us busy and it’s not often we get a chance to take a vacation, but we’re not in the States now. Nicky is British, and she and Alex are due to be married in a nine-hundred-year-old church in West London this coming Saturday.

Alex and I were sitting in the bar of The Albion, an old world English pub, waiting for Peter, who was late. When it comes to weddings British traditions are similar to ours, brides have bachelorette parties, which for some strange reason they call “hen do’s”, and bridegrooms have bachelor parties, dubbed “stag nights”. Nicky was having her bachelorette party at Smiffy’s, her mother’s restaurant and Steph was with her, together with about twenty of her female friends.

I guess you could say Alex and I, together with Peter, were his bachelor party. It wasn’t because Alex doesn’t have friends, it was the fact he was four thousand miles away from most of them. Although some were coming to the wedding, which was still nearly a week away, they hadn’t made it in yet. We would have dinner and perhaps a drink or several with the ones who did get here before the big day, but tonight’s outing was for Peter and me to get to know each other and, more importantly, to get us out of the way while the girls were partying. I’d seen Peter for a minute or two when we first arrived but I was going to be best man and, since their father passed away a few years earlier, he was going to be giving the bride away. We needed to get together to co-ordinate our speeches and decide how much we were going to say to embarrass the happy couple.

According to Alex, Peter is a nice guy when you get to know him but it looked as though I was going to have to take his word for it because Nicky’s brother was now over an hour late.

I glanced at my watch. ‘Are you sure he knows he’s supposed to come to this pub?’ I asked.

‘I know he does. He’s been here before,’ Alex replied. ‘This is where Nicky first introduced me to him. He likes it here. Liz, the barmaid, has a thing for him.’

‘Maybe he’s trying to avoid Liz the barmaid,’ I said with a shrug.

Alex took out his cell phone. ‘No,’ he replied, ‘they flirt. Liz flirts with all the guys. She knows Peter isn’t after her, she’s even flirted with me, and she helped me out when I was on the run over here in the summer.’ He touched the screen. ‘What I don’t understand is why he hasn’t phoned or sent a text. It’s not like him. I spoke to him yesterday and he said he was looking forward to getting to know you and Steph and being away from work for a few days.’

‘What’s he do?’ I asked.

Alex shrugged. ‘I’m not really sure. From what Nicky says he has something to do with the computer parts of airplane auto pilot systems.’

‘So, computer genius runs in the family?’ I said. Nicky also had a computer science degree and after she and Alex were married she was coming to work for our company, running our new computer forensics section.

Alex shrugged. ‘It seems so,’ he replied. ‘Peter has his doctorate in computer science and, from what his mom and sister say, he can make computers do things you wouldn’t believe. He works for Gresham Aerospace, they’re about twenty miles west of here. He lives near there but he’s supposed to be coming in to stay at his mom’s place for the rest of the week.’

‘Maybe there was a problem at the factory,’ I suggested. ‘Perhaps he couldn’t get away.’

‘It’s not really a factory. Nicky told me it’s a big old country house and they’ve converted part of it into computer labs. She says they don’t make anything physical there; in fact, they don’t do anything except design the software. I can’t think what could go wrong with that apart from a server crash, but even if there was a problem I’d have still expected him to ring.’

At that moment the barmaid came to where we were sitting on a couple of tall bar stools. ‘I thought you said my boyfriend was coming in tonight?’ she said.

‘I guess he stood us both up,’ Alex apologized.

‘Story of my life,’ she replied with a mournful sigh but then she brightened up. ‘Still, while he ain’t here you and me can get cozy, can’t we?’

‘Sorry, Liz, I’m getting married on Saturday so I have to behave myself,’ Alex replied.

She turned her attention to me. She was somewhere around her mid-thirties, her hair was an unnatural shade of auburn and her makeup was heavy, especially around the eyes. She was not the type I’d have gone for even before Steph, but she was pretty enough, and as she leaned closer I got a hint of some subtle, pleasant smelling perfume.

‘How about your friend?’ she said, staring deep into my eyes. ‘I bet he’s not getting married on Saturday.’

I lifted my left hand from the table and waggled the third finger in reply. My wedding band caught the light.

Liz sighed again. ‘You Yanks are no fun.’

‘Sorry Liz,’ I said, ‘if I’d known you were available I swear I’d have waited for you.’

‘Yeah, right,’ she replied, her voice full of disdain. ‘I’ve heard it all before. Are you pair going to have another drink or do I have to come around there and throw you out for taking up space?’

‘We’ll have another drink,’ Alex laughed. ‘And since it looks like Peter’s a no-show, we’ll go ahead and order food too. If he makes it later he can eat while we drink.’

The food was very good and I found I had a liking for British beer, even though we didn’t drink a lot of it. The two of us didn’t make for much of a party but we did get chance to catch up and have a few laughs. Alex was concerned about the silence from Nicky’s brother and he tried calling and then texting him again but the phone went straight to voice mail and the texts were left unanswered. After finishing the meal with a very good cognac, we agreed we were both tired and neither of us wanted any more to drink so we said goodbye to Liz and left.

We were staying in the same hotel and it was getting on for eleven o’clock when we walked back to find Steph already sitting in the lounge reading a book.

‘Hey Beautiful,’ I said, sitting beside her and leaning over to kiss her cheek. ‘I thought you’d still be out partying with the girls.’

She smiled and closed her book. I glanced at the title. It was “A Standard Guide to Forensic Pathology”. This is typical of my wife. She takes her work very seriously and never misses an opportunity to continue learning.

‘No,’ she said. ‘They said they were going on to a nightclub. I’m a country girl from West Virginia, big cities aren’t my scene and neither are night clubs. I must be getting old because I prefer coming back to spend quality time with my husband.’

‘You’re not getting old but your husband is very happy you came back,’ I said, taking her hand, raising it to my lips and kissing it.

‘So, how did you guys get on?’ Steph asked. ‘Did you have a good time?’

‘We ate dinner and had two or three drinks,’ Alex said. ‘Peter didn’t show up, so it was just the two of us. Dean isn’t the sort I usually date and he’s the kind of party-pooper who wouldn’t let me make out with the barmaid, even though she was coming on to me, so we came back here.’

‘Peter wasn’t with you?’ Steph said.

‘No. I talked to him yesterday and he said he’d definitely be at the pub tonight but he wasn’t.’

‘He wasn’t at his mom’s place either. She said he was supposed to drop his bag off there, and then go on to meet you guys. When he didn’t show, she thought maybe he was running late and had gone straight to the pub. She tried to call him but he didn’t answer.’

‘I tried to get him several times as well but I couldn’t get a reply either,’ Alex replied.

‘That’s odd.’ Steph frowned. ‘I wonder what’s happened to him?’

‘Hmm, maybe we could investigate and make this trip pay for itself. We could call it the case of the missing brother of the bride.’ I grinned.

‘Don’t joke,’ Steph said. ‘This could be serious.’

‘You, Sweetheart, have been reading too much of this stuff,’ I said, tapping the cover of her book. ‘He could have been delayed and maybe his phone has no battery left. He’ll most likely come first thing tomorrow, so there’s no use getting riled about it tonight.’

She smiled tiredly. ‘You’re probably right. I’m sure he’s fine and I’m still suffering from jet lag. I guess I’m not thinking straight.’

‘Okay, let’s go to the room. We can phone your folks to make sure our favorite little boy is behaving himself and then go to bed.’

Our favorite little boy was our son, Jake. We’d decided he was too young to fly, so Steph’s mom and dad get to spoil him for a week or two while we’re in England. We liked to talk to them at least once a day, just to say hello and to put our minds at rest he’s alright though.

‘Sounds good to me,’ she replied, stifling a yawn.

‘I guess I’m going to bed too,’ Alex said. ‘See you both for breakfast at nine tomorrow? Nicky’s coming over and she said she’ll take us sightseeing.’

‘Her friends dragged her off to the night club with them,’ Steph said. ‘I doubt whether she’ll make it out of bed for nine.’

Alex grinned. ‘She’ll make it, she said she wants to impress her new bosses so my guess is she’ll ask her mom to wake her no matter what time she gets home.’

End of this excerpt from MISSING.  Click on the links below to see the full book;

US: https://www.amazon.com/Missing-Dean-Steph-Book-6-ebook/dp/B0784VGWYP/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1512235746&sr=8-2&keywords=derek+coleman

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Missing-Dean-Steph-Book-6-ebook/dp/B0784VGWYP/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1512235925&sr=8-2&keywords=derek+coleman

My books

In the past couple of weeks three separate people have asked me what my books are about. I don’t mind telling them, in fact I love talking about them but, just in case any of you are too shy to ask, here’s a brief synopsis of each of them:

Dean and Steph Witton, are private eyes based in the Teays Valley area of West Virginia. They seem to be my readers’ favorite characters and appear in a series of five books;

“Guilty?” begins the series. It’s the story of their first case, how they came to be together and how they nearly lost each other due to a deranged killer.

In “Beneficiary” they’re trying to protect a young girl from a clandestine organization that seeks to control America. They find themselves hunted by the law and they nearly pay with their lives before the case is closed.

“Traitor” brings the investigation closer to home as Dean’s sister’s husband, who they’d thought to be dead, suddenly reappears and brings a terrorist plot to assassinate the president to their doorstep.

A man is accused of murder in “Innocent?” and Dean and Steph are hired to prove he is guilty of more than one killing. Instead they find he’s innocent and they have to risk their lives to unmask the real killer.

“Cheating” starts as a simple divorce case. Their client asks them to prove her husband is having an affair but when she turns up dead it becomes a murder investigation that leaves a trail of bodies before they find the true killer.

Ian McCloud is the hero of both “The Lichfield Conspiracy” and “Da.” In the first of these books he is a major in the Royal Military Police and he suspects there is a plot to assassinate the President of the United States and the Prime Minister. No one except an aging civilian policeman agrees with his suspicions and he has to fight his own side’s skepticism while trying to prevent an atrocity.

In “Da” there is a serial killer on the loose. Soldiers are dying in a very brutal way and McCloud has to work fast to find the murderer before he too becomes a victim.

We meet Nicky Houseman and Alex Mitchell, a cousin of Dean and Steph, in “Hunted.” Alex sees something he shouldn’t, accidently involves Nicky, and the two of them are chased across two continents before they nearly meet their deaths at the hands of an assassin who also appears in “Beneficiary”.

“Weoley” is the story of a place. Won by the sword in a bloody battle that changed England's history, it is a place that evolves over nine hundred turbulent years. It’s a story full of heroes and villains; the good, the bad, the beautiful, the wicked and the ordinary. Peasants and their lords, nobles, commoners and kings; Theirs are stories of seduction and romance, of adultery, forgiveness and passionate love that defies understanding. Bloody battles pit brother against brother, fortunes are made, and lost, while unfaithful wives and political intrigue stir the mix, all of it set against the background of a great fortress.

“Hessians” is a Revolutionary War novel set in the winter of seventeen seventy-six. The defeated remnants of George Washington’s Continental Army are retreating into the wastes of Pennsylvania while their British and Hessian enemies take up winter quarters in New Jersey.
The Americans need time to rest and re-equip but supplies are scarce. They know there are stores hidden in New Jersey and Washington decides to send inexperienced militia to fetch them with Lieutenant James Holte’s company of veteran riflemen accompanying them.
It should be an easy task but there is a traitor in their midst and the quest for stores turns into a desperate fight for survival against the might of the Hessian army.

“Liberty” is set in Boston, in April of 1775, a time when the American colonies are on the eve of revolution. For the army the course they must take is clear, but the civilians have to choose loyalty to the king or to their country. For some the choice is easy because they are patriots who love America, but some patriots also have another love and when that one wears the red coat of the enemy the decision is harder. She cannot have both so which will she choose, America or the love of her life?

“The Prince’s Puzzle” is the tale of a Prince, far from home and leading an army in a bloody civil war. He meets a lonely lady, seeks comfort in her arms and unwisely puts his feelings for her into a series of letters. Then the unthinkable occurs. She tells him the letters have been stolen and they have to be found quickly before her husband returns and goes over to the enemy. Captain Richard Croxall is dispatched to hunt for them. He has just three days but before the time is up blood will be spilled and people will die.

“Tapestry” begins in 1937. Joanne Mason is nearly fourteen, she’s bored with school and her life in the quiet city of Lichfield. Twenty miles away Barry Sullivan is the same age but he likes learning until he has to leave it behind when tragedy strikes his family. At the same time across the Atlantic the snow is deep but Jimmy Woodall doesn’t mind. He hates the life he’s leading and at seventeen considers himself already grown up.

These are the threads of three young lives. Each has reached a place where they are ready to change and the weavers of all our fates take them, twist them together, tear them apart again and then cross and re-cross them until they have created the tapestry of their lives

Finally we have Missing. This is another Dean and Steph novel due for release in the next few weeks. In this one they are on vacation in England to attend Nicky and Alex’s wedding. Unfortunately the bride’s brother has gone missing and the trail of bodies leads them from one end of Britain to the other and then back again in an effort to rescue him from international terrorists.

All of these books can be found at:

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=derek+coleman&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Aderek+coleman or

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=Derek+coleman

Missing

Let’s face it, when it comes to writing a blog I’m not very consistent. Some people seem to be able to find something to write about every day whereas I manage a post every couple of months. It’s not that I’m being lazy. I have a house to maintain, three children to feed, clothe and transport, and a full-time day job, so my writing time is restricted. When I do get to write I need to put out a weekly article for my newspaper column and I always have a novel on the go so I’m afraid blogging comes a poor third.

It’s novels I want to talk about today. I have some good news for those of you who are kind enough to read my books.  The first draft of, “Missing”, the sixth in the Steph and Dean detective series, is done. I’ve typed the final period, read it through twice and it’s now with my proofreader who will no doubt cover it with red ink. That’s not a problem, it happens with every book I write. I shall get it back in a few days and look at the changes she suggests. Usually I accept most of those concerning spelling, grammar and the overuse of certain words but I hope I’ve managed to avoid a lot of the latter this time. I specifically looked for the redundant “that’s” and took out as many uses of “had” as I could. I’m sure she’ll find other instances though, she’ll also want to clarify certain passages and I know she’ll comment on my use of adverbs. She adheres to the Stephen King “Adverbs-are-bad” school of thought whereas I like to think they are necessary in some places.

Anyway, making the corrections usually only takes me a few days and then the manuscript will go back to be proof read again for any final changes. Once these are done I’ll read it through one last time and, as long as I’m happy with it and the cover is ready, it will go for printing. It’s a long process but I can promise you that it will be available as a paperback and an e-book well before Christmas.

So, with that done, what’s next? Well, I have several projects in the pipeline. The prologue for a follow up to my novel “Hessians” is already written, as is the first chapter of an, as yet, untitled sci-fi, time-travel novel. The second book in the “Liberty” series is already at 60,000 words and has been on the back burner for a while. I have ideas for a couple of modern-day thrillers and yet another Steph and Dean as well as a possible short story collection.

I guess I have a lot of options. My only constraint is time to do them and so I’m going to finish this and get back to one of them….but which one? Any reasonable requests will be considered.

Reviews

I’ve just held a promotion for one of my books on Amazon. 

For five days Guilty? the first book in the Dean and Steph detective series, was completely free. I promoted it daily on social media and the response was good with more than 150 copies being downloaded. This is pleasing, it introduces people to my work and hopefully some of them will like it enough to want to purchase other books in the series.

What is less pleasing though is the readers response to the last line of the ad telling them book was being given away. This was simply a plea for those who read it to go to Amazon and leave a short review. It seems people either missed that line or didn’t feel the need to do it because so far there have been no new reviews.

Reviews are important to authors. They are what attract the readers to a book. They also tell the writer what they have done right, where they’ve gone wrong and what the public think of their work. Guilty? already has six, five star, reviews on the US Amazon site and five on the UK site (why Amazon won’t show all reviews on all sites I don’t know). I’m very grateful for these and for those for my other books too.

Personally I  always leave reviews for every book I read. They are never very long and I don’t go into great detail but I do say whether I liked the book or not and I always sat why I've given it the marking I have. Giving a review doesn’t take long, two minutes at the most, and it not only gives the author important feedback but provides other potential readers with someone else’s thoughts on the book.

That being said I sincerely hope those who downloaded my book enjoyed it and, if any of you who read this have read my work and have a couple of minutes to spare a review would be much appreciated.