Ideal Angels - blog tour and Extract

Ideal Angels - blog tour and Extract:

Today I am part of the blog tour for the new book by Robert Welbourn - Ideal Angels.



BLURB  

Is it possible to keep secrets in the age of social media? 
When someone lives their entire life in the spotlight, what could they possibly hide from you? 
Ideal Angels explores just that. It s the story of one man, one woman, one week. 
They meet, fall in love, and never look back. 
Eloise's phone is never far away, furiously cataloguing their ups and downs. But there are always shadows, lurking just out of reach. 
The moments after the camera flashes, unseen, uncaptured. 
The threat of an inescapable doom. 
How much can one person change you? 
How much can one person be your downfall?


Robert Welbourn


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 

Robert Welbourn is Yorkshire born and bred - he's lived there almost all his life, and now written a book set there. He’s had a passion for books as long as he can remember, and has been writing his whole life. 
His favourite authors are Bret Easton Ellis and Stephen King, and he cites Ellis as his number one influence.
He studied English Literature at Salford University, and this confirmed that he wanted to spend his life working with books. He currently works in marketing, but is hoping to spend his life telling stories.
Twitter @r_welbourn

Now here's an extract to whet your appetite:

That familiar burn, the sting in your nostrils, the supreme energy and
confidence, you haven’t felt this in a long time. It isn’t long before the
coke talk begins, and though it’s usually bullshit, this time it’s actually
interesting, you’re actually listening. And listening is all you’re
doing, because she’s practically ranting. Yeah so you’re probably wondering
about the hotel well my parents own it well not own it it’s sort of like franchised nothing official but basically they put a lot of money into it
and take a lot of the profits and they’ve done this all over the world and the
penthouse is owned by them but I don’t think they’ve ever been here except
maybe once just after they first got it. She breathes. And yeah so I come
here a lot it’s technically where I live well it’s one of my homes I guess my
official home is in the States with my parents but I don’t really like it there
it’s too hot and the people are all annoying so I have most of my stuff here
but really I spend all my time in my other place near the art school I’m going
to near where we met. She stops talking briefly, another massive line,
then more words, she’s like a waterfall. So yeah that’s the hotel and that
explains the car too and why I don’t go to art school very often I mean I
know I should but it’s hard to see a point in it you know to me the point is
looking good, feeling good, people knowing you look and feel good and that’s
why I’m always photographing you and me and stuff and that’s why the
drugs too I love my parents don’t get me wrong at least I think I do, well I
know I should anyway but they’re never around and it makes me feel pretty
shitty but with this stuff, she indicates the bag, with this stuff it kind of
doesn’t really matter so yeah do you know what I mean?
You’re sort of blown away, you’ve been pacing to try to dissipate
some of the energy but it’s not really done anything, you’re
ridiculously high considering how early it is in the afternoon, and
you stop pacing but only for a second to look at her, and you
know she wants an answer but none comes to mind, and so you
grab her arm and pull her to her feet, to you, and kiss her hard,
probably too hard but you’re both so coked up it seems the right
thing to do. You can feel your erection but this isn’t the time,
not now, so you let her back down to the floor and take the note
from her and do a massive line yourself.
The late afternoon and early evening sort of pass in a haze and
before you know it you’re out, in the town, wearing the same
clothes you’ve had on all day and you’re unshowered since this
morning but you don’t care, you’ve got pure confidence in your
veins and so the two of you are walking, practically strutting
down the street, you have a cigarette but you’re not paying it
much attention, except to make sure none of the ash goes on your clothes. You come to a bar, The Oyster Bar, not the most fashionable
but reasonably discreet, and soon you each have a largely
ignored drink in front of you, and while she sits and texts and
makes the occasional call you just sit, look around, wanting to
go outside, breathe the air, expend some energy, but not wanting
to not be by her side. She says some of her friends are coming,
she hopes you don’t mind, and you say it’s chill, it’ll be nice to
meet some of the people in her life, and because of the drugs she
laughs but you actually mean it, you don’t want to let this one
go, you want to get your hooks into her. You know that’s an
awful way of phrasing it to yourself but you also know it’s true,
and so when her friends arrive you pretend not to be high, which
you’re not really much anymore anyway, you’ve purposefully not
been bumping in order to not make a bad impression. Her friends
are just like her: slim, beautiful, phones out, drinks out, but from
the looks of them they’re not currently reading Ulysses; in fact
you wonder if they can read at all.
You let them talk, it’s mostly about you, Eloise’s friends interrogating
her about you, but she’s ducking questions, trying to
avoid the fact she doesn’t actually know much about you, and by
now the coke has worn off and so you drink your drink, then
drink another, and soon you’re pretty buzzed off the alcohol. A
couple of her friends look familiar, you feel like you’ve seen them
before, but you chalk this up to the alcohol. That sense of familiarity
a slight buzz often brings. Is it the alcohol? Do you care?
You sense Eloise is buzzed too from the way she’s looking at
you, lust tinged with desperation, but regardless her phone is out
and her friends’ phones are out and it’s all selfies, group photos,
you’re dragged into photos by people whose names you don’t
even know, faces you won’t remember, and you’re thinking it’s
all so cheap, this is all so vague and unnecessary, but you let it
happen anyway. You know Eloise is like this, you’re just glad it’s
not as much as her friends are.
Soon Eloise is taking your hand and you’re outside, leaving the
bar, moving on to the next. You light a cigarette for the walk
and give one to Eloise but soon all her friends are asking, begging cigarettes from you, and it just seems easier to give them all
one and so you do, and they’re coughing and looking unsure but
they’re all so proud of themselves, this small act of drunken rebellion
making them feel like better people, even though you know
if anything it’s the opposite. The next bar is Footage, you’ve not
been here for a while, but nothing much has changed. This bar
is more crowded, and despite being drunk you practically beg
Eloise and she takes you into the disabled toilet and you do a
bump each, two, and once you’re back in the room everything
seems much easier to handle, it’s given a perspective that means
something to you, or at least feels like it might. Her friends have
attracted a lot of attention but you and Eloise stay on the periphery,
not wanting to be antisocial, but not wanting to be involved.
Drinks are ordered and drunk, bumps are discreetly done, and
soon it’s the early hours and you’re tired, your nose hurts, your
head is spinning, you’re dreading tomorrow, dreading your exposure
to the world under the influence of such solicitous inebriants.
But in reality you’re back in the penthouse and it’s just you
and Eloise, you’ve managed to kick out her friends, and their new
friends, and it’s just the two of you and you go to the toilet, to
actually use the toilet for a change, and when you come back
Eloise has left the living room. You head for the bedroom and
find her standing in a pile of clothes, wearing only her pants, and
this time she does actually pounce on you.


Available on Amazon, click here for more details


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