Christine Young

I am a writer and avid reader of romances particularly historical romances. Please join me on my journey through time

Christine Presents: Flashpoint by Felicity Young

Please welcome Felicity Young author of Flashpoint.

Felicty will be awarding an eCopy of Flashpoint to 3 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour, and choice of 5 digital books from the Impulse line to a randomly drawn host.



by Felicity Young


GENRE: Contemporary Thriller




  1. What or who inspired you to start writing?


I put my first (unpublished) manuscript together after a trip to East Timor, just after the violence had erupted there. There I found so many stories about so many inspiring people, I just had to start jotting things down. Before that I really wanted to write, but didn’t know what I wanted to write about. At this point, my life was beginning to calm down, the kids were growing up, and as I worked alone on the farm my mind was able to start ticking over – and it hasn’t stopped since!


  1. How did you come up with ideas for your books?


I had no trouble getting ideas for Flashpoint because so much of that novel was based on reality. For my other contemporary crime novels I got ideas from newspapers and true-crime books. For the historical novels, which I write now, I rely on historical biographies, archived newspaper articles and loads of generalized reading about the times – my historical books require much more research.

3. As far as your writing goes, what are your future plans?


The untitled sequel to Flashpoint is to be released next year. Whether I continue with that series or not will depend on the reception it receives. Meanwhile I will be continuing with my Dody McCleland (historical) series, with A Donation of Murder out next year and A Home Front Murder to be released in 2018. I have plenty to keep me busy!

  1. If you could be one of the characters from any of your books, who would it be and why?


I’d love to be Dody McCleland, the protagonist in my historical series. Her background is based on that of my grandmother – she even has the same name. The similarities end there, as my character is Britain’s first female autopsy surgeon – a job that would certainly not have appealed to my grandmother.


  1. If you were the casting director for the film version of your novel, who would play your leading roles?


I would love to see the Australian actor, Craig McLachlan (Dr Blake TV series) take on the role of Cam Fraser in Flashpoint. Not only does he look similar to my character (other than the scarring, but I’m sure a good make up artist could fix that) I think he would bring the necessary sensitivity to the role.


  1. Do you belong to a critique group? If so how does this help or hinder your writing?


Yes, I do belong to a critique group consisting of myself and one other person! When I first joined the group there were about ten of us but over the years the numbers dropped off as people gave up with their writing. My friend is also published. Check out Patricia O’Neill’s marvelous Ancient Egyptian series here:

While our critique group has served Trish and I very well, I would suggest others be cautious about the kind of group they join. Join a group that includes experienced writers and editors, people who know about the inside workings of the writing business and can provide you with valuable, constructive criticism.

  1. When did you first decide to submit your work? Please tell us what or who encouraged you to take this big step?


Flashpoint was the result of a worldwide search by a UK crime fiction publishing company, which I read about in a Writers’ Digest magazine. About a handful of titles were chosen as winners and published free of charge under the Crime de la Crime banner. This led to my being noticed by a bigger publisher – and then a bigger one still!

  1. What is the best and worst advice you ever received? (regarding writing or publishing)


I was told that Flashpoint didn’t have a chance at being published – no publishers would be interested in a book set in rural Western Australia.


  1. Do you outline your books or just start writing?


I always start with aspirations of writing a complete outline, but once I start the urge to fill in the story proper always takes over and I abandon it. I’m the kind of person who doesn’t know what she likes until she sees it and, as a result, I write a lot of drafts. This technique wouldn’t work for everyone but it seems to do ok for me. The approach to every book is slightly different though. I knew the ending of Flashpoint before I’d worked out the beginning. In another book I was so convinced by my own red herrings that for a while I had a different ‘whodunnit’ in every draft.

  1. What is your favorite reality show?


None, I hate them all!


You can run from everything but your fears.

Three years after a gang brutally murdered his wife and son, Sergeant Cam Fraser has returned with his daughter Ruby to the country town where he was raised – a town too small for trouble. But then a body is found on the school grounds, badly burned and unrecognisable. Who in Glenroyd could possibly be a murderer? And why?

This violent crime plunges Cam straight into a baffling and deadly investigation, where nothing is as it seems. From shady cop Vince to the secretive Smithsons who run the school to the local bikie gang who may still want him dead, Cam has his hands full with suspects. Not to mention Jo, his daughter’s teacher, whom he can’t keep his mind off of …

But the danger is coming closer to home, and Cam is running out of time to solve the case. Will he be able to protect Ruby and stop the killer? Or will everything go up in flames?




The atmosphere in the staffroom loomed like a headache. Cam realised it was caused by more than the chemical smell of the surrounding newness, and silently berated himself for allowing Vince to tackle the first round of interviews on his own.

Vince introduced Cam to Anne Smithson, the principal, and her husband Jeffrey, explaining that he’d allowed the other staff members to leave.

Cam remembered reading about the couple in his wife’s Old Glenroydians’ Magazine. They’d been recruited from the eastern states by the School Board in a last ditch effort to prevent the school from closing down. Assisted by the generous endowment of an old girl, they had, according to the magazine, been performing restorative miracles, including an ambitious building renovation program.

Mr Smithson rose from the table and offered Cam a firm, moist hand but no smile, in keeping with the sobriety of the occasion.

‘As I was explaining to the Constable here,’ he said, ‘we weren’t even on the school grounds the day of the fire. We’d been to the city for the day –’

‘They have an apartment in the city – all right for some eh, Sarge?’ Vince exaggerated a wink. Cam felt the temperature in the room drop several degrees.

Mr Smithson shot Vince a look that suggested he’d just picked him off the sole of his shoe. His wife frowned when Cam shook her hand, telling him with her deep grey eyes that she’d had about as much of the Senior Constable as she could endure.

Mr Smithson continued in a tone of restrained calm. ‘The first we knew about the body was when Joanne arrived at Monday’s staff meeting, late as always.’ He caught his wife’s eye in a way that suggested this topic had been discussed before. ‘And broke the news.’

Anne Smithson nodded her agreement. ‘We’ve given our statements. May we go home now, Sergeant?’

‘I won’t keep you much longer, Mrs Smithson. Please bear with me for just five more minutes.’

Anne Smithson pursed her lips, the only sign of impatience she gave. Her ash blonde hair, stretched tight against her skull, was fastened at the back with a tortoise-shell clip. She sat in her straight-backed chair, hands clasped in her lap, her eyes half-closed. Cam wondered if she was reciting her getting-through-appointments-with-ranting-parents mantra. He knew the signs; he’d used the technique often enough himself on tedious witnesses.

Jeffrey smoothed down his thin moustache and beat a soft tattoo on the table’s surface, waiting for Cam to finish skimming through the witness statement forms. When Cam met his eye the drumming abruptly stopped. Then, as if deciding the ordeal had lasted long enough, Jeffrey pushed his chair back and climbed to his feet. A small round belly peeped through a gap in his blazer when he indicated the door to his wife with a tilt of his head.

Cam held out his hand for her to stay where she was. ‘Mrs Smithson,’ he said. ‘At the moment the body is unidentifiable, but sometimes people have vague ideas about who a victim could be. Can you make a guess? Have you been aware of any itinerants hanging around the school grounds? Did any of your groundsmen not turn up for work this morning? Have you given anyone permission to camp on the grounds during the school holidays?’

Mrs Smithson’s thin fingers reached for the double string of pearls resting on the bosom of her silk blouse. The nervous mannerism did not escape Cam. He had a fleeting glimpse of the kind of vulnerability the headmistress of an elite school would be forced to hide.

‘No, Sergeant, although there have been plenty of people coming and going all holidays to work on the renovations. I know there were men here yesterday,’ she said. ‘I suppose one of the builders might have decided to go for a walk and accidentally started the bushfire.’

Cam turned to Vince. ‘Check with the builders. See if there was anyone away from work yesterday who should have been there.’

The big man gave a nod.

Mrs Smithson rose from the table with a waft of Chanel. Cam said, ‘Thank you for your cooperation. I don’t think we’ll be needing to ask you any more questions for the moment.’ He smiled. Number 5 had always been his wife’s favourite. When she moved to stand by her husband, he noticed she was the taller by about three inches.

Mrs Smithson gave Cam a tight smile back. ‘Please turn the lights off when you go.’

Vince grunted out a reply. When the Smithsons turned to leave, he caught Cam’s eye and flicked the end of his nose with his finger. Cam ignored him and glanced back to one of the forms on the table. He addressed the departing couple.

‘Before you go, I’d like to have a bit more of a chat with Ms Tilly, the science teacher.’ He tapped at the form in front of him with his pen. ‘It says here she lives in a flat at the school. Mind pointing me in the right direction?’

‘I hope it won’t take long. We need to get home; it’s been a long day,’ Mr Smithson said.

‘I quite understand. I don’t need you to come with me, just tell me where I can find her.’

‘This way,’ Mr Smithson said, leading Cam away from his wife into the vestibule. He glanced back at the staffroom and gripped Cam’s arm. No longer within earshot of his wife, he dropped his previous tone of forced politeness and spoke through clenched teeth.

‘My wife and I have done everything in our power to cooperate with the police over this unfortunate incident. I want you to know that we found Constable Petrowski’s blunt questioning very disturbing. The details he gave us about the condition of the body were totally unnecessary. It was as if he was deliberately trying to upset us, to bully us into taking some kind of responsibility for this tragic accident.’

Cam worked hard not to show his irritation with Vince. One of the first rules of a preliminary interview is to keep the witnesses on side, talk to them in a relaxed manner, steer the questions in a way that would put them at ease and encourage them to do the talking. It seemed the only thing Vince had encouraged was aggravation. It was going to take a lot of smoothing over to get the Smithsons back on track.

‘I apologise on his behalf. I’ll have a word with him and I’ll be happy to assist if you wish to make a formal complaint,’ Cam said.

Mr Smithson thought for a moment. ‘I might just do that. I’ll discuss the matter with my wife. In the meantime, if you wish to re-address this topic, Sergeant, please ring in advance for an appointment and speak to me. It is not necessary for my wife to hear all the gruesome details. I’m sure I can answer any further questions you might have. She doesn’t have to be included.’

As he was also irritated by the man’s arrogant tone, Cam could imagine how he and Vince had goaded each other. He shrugged off the hand that gripped his arm.

‘I quite understand, Mr Smithson, but I’m afraid I’ll probably have to speak to both you and your wife again. Until then, good day, sir.’




AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Felicity Young was born in Germany and educated in the United Kingdom whilst her parents were posted around the world with the British Army. In 1976 the family settled in Perth. Felicity trained as a nurse followed by an arts degree. In 1990 the family moved from the city and established a Suffolk sheep farm in Gidgegannup WA. Here she studied music, reared orphan kangaroos and started writing.

Buy link:




Felicty will be awarding an eCopy of Flashpoint to 3 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour, and choice of 5 digital books from the Impulse line to a randomly drawn host.



6 comments on “Christine Presents: Flashpoint by Felicity Young

  1. Goddess Fish Promotions
    November 12, 2015

    Thanks for hosting!

  2. Mai Tran
    November 12, 2015

    What accomplishments are you most proud of?

  3. achristay
    November 12, 2015

    Welcome to my blog. I hope you have a great tour.

  4. Pingback: Christine Presents: Flashpoint by Felicity Young – Felicity young

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


This entry was posted on November 12, 2015 by in Uncategorized.

Translate this blog

%d bloggers like this: