Today I am very pleased to be on the Blog Tour for the new book by Richard Parnell, Right on the Monet, with an extract to entice you into looking at the book
About the Book
Claude Monet painting is stolen
Of all the things Harry Chase had imagined in his life, being a drummer on a cruise ship band was not one that would have occurred to him. And yet, there he was. Centre stage, behind a young female singer along with his mates, Dave, Tony and Steve.
Which meant that getting involved in a jewellery theft, an on-board massage parlour and the hunt for an Old Master was even further from his mind as he cracked the snare drum.
And yet, this was exactly how he found himself being questioned by Interpol …..
Although it was still early, the Blue Moon was a hive of activity and with Tony getting the drinks in we made our way to the only available table which unfortunately was not near the stage at all. Over to our left, a group of Americans were noisily in discussion about something or other, their voices heard above the general hubbub of conversations. I sent Cara a text to let her know where to find us when the ice show finished and we settled in for the evening.
“Noisy fuckers, aren’t they?” Steve said gesturing a bandaged arm in the direction of the Americans, one of whom was holding court, much to the amusement of his colleagues. Coming from a small provincial town, Steve had had a parochial existence and was never comfortable with ‘foreigners’. “Listen to him, big-headed bastard. No wonder they wear ten-gallon hats, they have to fit their ten-gallon heads.”
I looked across to the stage and saw the drum kit standing silent and ready. It was black and chrome; five drums in all, surrounded by a pair of hi-hats, two crash cymbals and a ride cymbal. It was beautiful, and I felt a wave of disappointment that we were unable to get up there and bang out some tunes. “Do you think we will ever play as a band again?” I asked, to no-one in particular.
“Not on this trip,” Steve replied, “I might be able to give it a go, but Dave’s definitely out. He can’t even pick his nose, never mind his strings.”
At that moment I caught sight of Bill Robinson weaving his way in our direction looking as red-faced and harassed as Howard Smith had done when he returned Liz’s diamond ring.
“Have you heard?” he cried as he ranged to within earshot.
“Heard what?” Tony asked pulling up a chair and gesturing Bill to sit.
“Howard Smith’s gone missing. Audrey says she hasn’t seen him since breakfast and he’s not answering his phone. The captain’s got half the crew scouring the ship, and the concern is he may have gone overboard.”
About the Author
Author Bio – Malcolm Parnell has a passion for painting and teaches art and drawing skills when he is not working on his next novel.
His other passion, apart from his good lady wife, Marion, is Leicester City Football Club. Becoming an author and Leicester win the Premier League have been two of his greatest ambitions realised.