
Some women are just stubborn, as Lloyd Harrington discovers when he drags Carey Stafford back to London. Maybe the feel of a noose around her pretty neck will dispel the sweetness of her revenge.
As you can tell from these two comments, Jan Selbourne’s new book, Full Circle , is not all sweetness and light. But it is a fantastic model of intrigue, characters who masquerade as one thing and then another, murder and mystery, spanning two continents. And I musn’t forget revenge–lots of revenge! I loved it! I think you will, too.
Full Circle is available for 99 cents until February 1, when the price will increase (although not too much!) Really, with Jan’s attention to detail, her faithfulness to historical accuracy, and her amazing storytelling, her books are bargains at any price. If you’re a fan of Jan’s, you know what I’m talking about. If you’re new to her, do you ever have a treat in store!
Please enjoy this remarkable book!

Blurb:
According to Dr. Arthur Sanders, a terrible miscarriage of justice has taken place. His entire fortune and that of his partner, Mr. Frank Owens, has disappeared along with Owen’s secretary/accountant and the secretary’s assistant. Owens himself is visiting the Australian colony. Is he, like Sanders, a victim or the perpetrator? That is what Sanders wants Lloyd Harrington to find out and as swiftly as possible.
Harrington is recovering from an injury received while on the job in the Metropolitan Police as well as guilt from a personal loss. He’s bored from forced inactivity and the chance to use his skills to track down Owens interests him. Sanders agrees to pay all expenses, and so Harrington sets off for Australia. Before he leaves, a body is discovered—the secretary. And the assistant holds a ticket on a ship bound for Australia. It seems the action is all set to take place Down Under.
Miss Carey Stafford arrives at the home of Owens’ host just as Harrington does and announces to the stunned Owens that he is bankrupt, along with his partner, Dr. Sanders. How does she know this, Harrington wonders. His tingly detective senses warn him that something very wrong is going on here, and he arrests the lovely Carey for theft and possible participant in the murder of Owen’s secretary. He has no way of knowing then that she holds secrets upon secrets upon secrets. They will either provide the answers to everything or will drag Lloyd into a morass of trouble with his former comrades at the Met.
Full Circle is a complex tale of mystery, intrigue, and revenge. How the tale and its principals actually come full circle will keep you on the edge of your seat!
Buy link:

Excerpt:
Lloyd and Frank Owens followed William into the hall and were about to enter the room opposite when the dogs outside set up a chorus of barking. Hooves and coach wheels grew louder and halted outside.
“Who the devil is this?” William fumed as a housemaid hurried to the entrance. A murmur of voices and as the maid stood aside, Lloyd stared in disbelief at the woman walking in. The same woman from the coach in the mud and the White Hart Inn but now her red hair was hanging in ringlets on both sides of her heavily made-up face, and she was wearing spectacles. He really was at the local playhouse or very soon he’d wake up.
“How dare you walk in here uninvited,” William said angrily and pointed at Lloyd. “Do you know this woman?”
“I don’t.”
William swung back to her. “This man has just walked in without a by your leave and now you! What next, half the town?”
The woman’s eyes widened with surprise seeing Lloyd, then ignoring William Parker, walked up to Frank Owens, standing in the doorway of the study.
“I have news for you,” she said softly.
“You know this woman?” William demanded.
Her eyes never wavered from Owens. “Mr Owens, you and Doctor Sanders are now penniless.”
Owens’ mouth dropped open. “What did you say?”
“The financial portfolio you shared with Arthur Sanders is no more. The lease on your London home was terminated on 31st March. Your home in Berkshire was sold. Your bank account is empty. Arthur Sanders has lost everything but his clothes.”
A pin dropping would be louder than a pistol shot.
It took several seconds before Owens found his voice. “Who are you?”
When the woman didn’t reply he began spluttering, “What on earth are you talking about?” His face was now a sickly white. “You know nothing of my business affairs.”
The woman shrugged eloquently. “You have no business affairs, you are ruined. Destroy and you will be destroyed.”
Frank glanced at Lloyd and back to the woman. “This is ridiculous. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Soft footsteps and the attractive middle-aged woman walked across the hall. Her cold eyes glared at the woman. “I am Amelia Parker and I demand you explain this outrageous intrusion.”
“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” was the icy reply. Her attention returned to Frank. “I almost forgot. Your letter of credit. It’s obvious you haven’t presented it to a bank otherwise you’d know it is not worth the paper it’s printed on.”
Lloyd snapped out of his trance. “Don’t take another step. How did you know about this and what is your connection with Mr Owens and Dr Sanders?”
Ignoring him, she brushed past Williams and his wife and walked to the front entrance. Lloyd followed and put his hand on her shoulder. “I said, not another step.”
Her dark eyes flashed angrily. “Take your hand off me.”
Lloyd’s grip tightened on her shoulder. “Who are you and where or from whom did you learn of this crime?”
“None of your business.”
“It is very much my business. I am investigating a crime committed in London and the police are investigating a death connected with that crime.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Your business has nothing to do with me, so I suggest you solve your crime in London, not here.” Pulling herself away from his hand she walked out onto the porch.
Stunned he’d let her pull away, Lloyd followed and grasped her arm. “I haven’t finished. While on leave from the Metropolitan Police I was retained by Arthur Sanders to find Frank Owens. Now, answer my questions.”
“A London policeman here in the middle of New South Wales? Surely you can do better than that. A duke from a small European principality would impress those country upstarts in there a lot more.”
Despite himself, Lloyd felt admiration for her standing up to him. His grasp on her arm tightened and he pulled her back into the drawing room. “Slorrach, I’d be obliged if you’d bring me a length of rope.”
Slorrach glanced at William who nodded. Lloyd waited until he left the room, then pushed the woman into a chair and spoke to the three dumbfounded people staring at him.
“Last March, Arthur Sanders asked me to find the person or persons responsible for embezzling money from his business partnership with Frank Owens.” He told them what had transpired and about Henry Todd’s death. “The police believe it was a vicious robbery. However, I am sure they have discovered more since I left England. That’s not all. Mark Davis’s reference was forged, and a snooping servant found his ship’s passage to this colony.”
Frank’s eyes bulged. “Henry is dead and Mark Davis here?”
Lloyd glanced at the young woman whose face was as white as Frank’s.
William Parker’s face was red with anger. “What the devil is going on Frank?”
Author Jan Selbourne:

Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.
Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com/JanSelbourne/index.html
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JanSelbourne
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6


Thomas Greenbank writes gritty Australian fiction. His writing draws deeply on his diverse background and professional experience.
It’s a sunshiny day! What do you do?
taking full advantage as well. There have been flocks of white cockatoos screeching their heads off in the eucalyptus trees nearby and rosellas are busy gorging on the nectar in the bottlebrush trees. Its widely believed kookaburras laughing in the middle of the day means more rain on the way, but who knows, they could very well be laughing at us. However, farmers swear a large flock of black cockatoos means serious rain is on the way.
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.
On the 25th April 1915, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps formed part of the allied expedition that set out to capture the Gallipoli peninsula—Turkey. These became known as Anzacs and the pride they took in that name continues to this day.
both Australia and England, where 2,000 Anzac troops marched through the streets of London. A memorial service was held at Westminster Abbey, attended by King George V and Queen Mary. Since then, on every 25th April except 1919 when the Spanish flu was rampant, services are held in every city and town in Australia and New Zealand, the Casey research station Antarctica, the very moving dawn service at Gallipoli in harmony with the Turkish people, Belgium and France and the UK. While checking my facts before writing this tribute I was surprised how many other countries acknowledge this day.
I know many people bemoan the work that goes into hosting or visiting family at the holidays, but I am not one of them, except in one respect. First, about my family holidays.
wonderful! I understand how that might not be so if there is too much selfishness and too little care evident. That is if folks don’t get together to share the joys of the season and instead make it obvious that the day is about them and not everyone else. Believe me, I have been at family events where there is too much drinking or arguments spring up or one person is expected to do all the work. No fun. Not like family. If this is your situation, you might have to work harder at enjoying the holiday, but it can still be done.
large the kids have grown, with how each of us is getting more frail in our own ways or stronger. It gives us a chance to laugh with one another and maybe to cry, while sharing the load of what makes us cry. It provides a chance for photos with sparkly backgrounds, that we can examine later and smile over.
snarled traffic. This is the number one reason why no one in our family gets together on holidays—it’s too darn much trouble.
A few years ago, my daughter Jeanette hit a couple of brick walls in her life and decided to take a break and travel to the USA. She wasn’t to know that meeting and falling in love with an American named Joe would be the beginning of a complete sea change for her. With that sea change came obstacles – a huge ocean separated Australia and America and her three months tourist visa demanded she return home. After a lot of soul searching, she decided to pick up sticks and stay in the U.S. with Joe.
serious about living there permanently. To obtain a conditional green card, she had to be married to Joe for one year, have a co-sponsor and not break the law. After that she could apply to have the conditions removed to become a permanent legal resident. And then, she faced another three years before she was eligible to apply for citizenship. Last year the process began, and in April 2019 she travelled to Detroit for the test on American history and government. She passed all the hurdles and finally, the citizenship ceremony was held on 20 June.
concerned, Jeanette is Aussie born and bred and now America is her home. Becoming a citizen was absolutely the right thing to do. Each time I visit, her American family and friends make me very welcome. And, the nicest compliment of all, my son-in-law Joe hoists the Aussie flag up on the flagpole. I feel very much at home there.
Creative Commons) For this act, the equivalent today of taking 10£, she was sentenced to fourteen years imprisonment in Van Diemen’s Land (now Tasmania Australia, the sort of triangular-shaped island off the southern coast of Australia). The 13,000 miles journey on the convict ship Hope took approximately three months.
Tasmania, now seen as a beautiful island and a vacation destination, was not viewed with much hope when it was one of the harshest penal colonies in a land of penal colonies. There are stories of convicts choosing almost certain death by escaping into the bush because death was better than life
in the colony. If they weren’t recaptured, they died due to lack of skills and the deadly snakes or other wild animals in the bush. Still, taking a chance against the huge tiger snakes was seen as better than the horrible floggings they suffered otherwise. Eleanor fared better than some.
know when Bridget left Van Diemen’s Land for the mainland or why she moved on to western New South Wales but there, aged 25, she married Richard, a bullock driver.
slivers of hand-made soap on top. After the clothes boiled for a few minutes they were pulled out with a copper stick and heaved into the rinse trough. Many a naughty child’s backside felt the whack of the copper stick.
Thanks to those scholars and writers with their quills and artists with brushes, we have priceless records of empires and monarchs, exploration of unknown continents, heroes and traitors and medical breakthroughs. The Magna Carta is an excellent example of history with us today.
was poverty, a rigid class system, bigotry and ruthless punishments for petty crimes. An Irish ancestor of mine was transported in chains to Van Diemen’s Land penal colony (now Tasmania, Australia). The thirteen-thousand-mile journey, with appalling food and conditions, took over three months. Her crime was stealing fifteen shillings. Granted, it was a lot of money then and the penalty of fifteen years transportation was better than a public hanging.
While writing
brought home to rest in the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Australian War Memorial.
Australian War Memorial with that query. Both very kindly replied that yes it was possible, although the chances of being caught were high and the penalty very harsh. Neither would admit it did happen but it was good enough for me to begin writing my third book, 

Julie grew up in a small, rural town in New Zealand. After leaving school, she worked at the local maternity annexe as a nurse aide, which gave her a love for caring for mothers and babies. Life could not have been happier, until the death of her second baby at birth led to depression, loneliness and despair.