Katherine Hayton | Crime. Murder. Death. My Pleasure.
2
home,page-template,page-template-full_width,page-template-full_width-php,page,page-id-2,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,smooth_scroll,


 

NEW RELEASE NGAIRE BLAKES MYSTERY – AVAILABLE NOW


 
 
 

THE ONLY SECRET LEFT TO KEEP

 
 

Detective Ngaire Blakes is back on the case when a skeletonized murder victim is discovered thirty-six years after his death. While a fierce and glorious fire lights up the Port Hills of Christchurch, Ngaire fights to piece together a crime that took place during the Springbok Tours of 1981. A period that pitted father against son, town against city, and showed the police using batons to beat back protesters on the evening news, night after night.

 

When the victim is identified as Sam Andie, a young African American man transplanted from the States to New Zealand by his family, Ngaire must investigate whether racial motives were behind the death. In line with evidence from the forensic pathologist, a police baton could easily have been the murder weapon. Or was his death connected to Sam’s girlfriend—a young woman convicted of a savage double homicide in the same week that Sam disappeared?

 

With files missing, memories hazy, and a strident false confession muddying the waters, Ngaire must sift through the detritus if she hopes to find the truth hiding deep beneath the lies.

 


 

COMING IN NOVEMBER 2017 – AVAILABLE NOW FOR PREORDER


 
 
 

SHATTERED IMPRINTS

 

Bretta Ariel works a job that few others have the stomach for—delving into the memories of deceased victims, searching for the scattered clues to identify their killers. A task that is as disrespected as it is dangerous.

 

But when a botched execution proves an innocent man was put to death, Bretta seizes the opportunity to prove her value. After all, the Bureau of Imprint Investigations has more than its reputation on the line.

 

Thousands of convicted offenders are seeking a judgement to render their initial verdicts unsafe. If Bretta can’t identify the correct killer before the clock counts down, the streets will seethe with men and women hungry to kill again.

 

Without even a firm identity for the murdered victim in the botched case, can Bretta solve the puzzle that those before her got so wrong?

 

EXCLUSIVE TO THE MURDER AND MAYHEM BOXED SET

 
 

MURDER AND MAYHEM

A Limited Edition Mystery/Thriller Collection

 
 


 
 
 

 

COMING IN DECEMBER 2017 – AVAILABLE TO PREORDER NOW


 
 
 

NERVES OF STEEL: AN URBAN FANTASY NOVEL

 
 

For a thousand years, vampires ruled the earth. They bent men to their will and molded cities into hotbeds of depravity.

 

Ha! Just kidding. Vampires are weaklings that catch fire if you push them into the sunlight. As soon as humans found out they existed, they captured the suckers, enslaved them, and put the pallid creatures to work.

 

So, imagine my surprise when a free vampire strolled into Joe’s Bar. Fair enough if he’s ditched his chains but walking around in public? That does not compute. As an escapee cyborg with a bounty on her head, I don’t want to dig for trouble. Don’t see, don’t tell is the motto for survival on the empire’s rough streets.

 

If it weren’t for my best friend, I’d turn a blind eye. But I owe that thirteen-year-old vampire my freedom and most probably my life. If something is changing for his species, then he needs to know. And sure, this investigation will open a seething can of bother, but if trouble comes for me, I’m ready. My body is 34% titanium, my skin is silicone polymer, and I’ve got nerves of steel.

 


 

COMING IN JANUARY 2018 – AVAILABLE NOW FOR PREORDER


A SPELL OF SICKNESS
A Mongrelverse Novel

EXCLUSIVE TO SIGILS AND SPELLS

Anika Huakoi is the wrong age and the wrong gender in the wrong job.

When Anika’s mentor dies, naming her as successor to the position of tohunga, she finds herself battling for the right to perform a job she was born and trained for. In 1960s New Zealand, being young, Maori, and female is tough enough. Performing a traditionally male role takes everything one step too far.

Soon after, Anika finds herself promoted to the solitary role of keeper of the supernatural treaties. This mysterious occupation tips her in way over her teenage head. With human enemies already pounding on the gates, is it any wonder she struggles to keep the supernaturals in line?

Throw in a male tohunga with self-admittedly glorious hair and an overbearing Wildman as her allies, then add a troublesome brew of faes, werewolves, and witches and Anika might soon wish she’d stuck to cooking and cleaning instead.

 
Starter Library Covers

on-the-blog-2
  • 16 Oct 2017
    Fading memories

    I remember the first time that one of my parents wasn’t equipped to handle modern technology. The good old copy/paste was something that eluded poor old Dad and stayed forever out in that exorable wilderness that consisted of everything he would never know.   It didn’t matter about writing down the instructions. For some reason, the part of his brain that would once have interpreted it and memorized the process within seconds was full up. No doubt the bulging wisdom contained therein had a lot of facts not useful after the fifties, sixties, or seventies. But brains are odd c

  • 27 Aug 2017
    Where do ideas come from?

    Back in March 2017, I was sitting on a plane feeling my ankles swell up like itchy inner tubes and watching a repeat of The Leftovers on the tiny wee personal screen. Although I loved the opening credits and music to series one of the Leftovers, this was series two with the starred outlines of people who have disappeared shown in poses with the people left behind.   While waiting impatiently for Justin Theroux to push Patty into a well, I started thinking about an outline for a short story I’d committed to writing for an anthology.   Wouldn’t it be great, I thou

  • 24 May 2017
    Making a friend

    Back in the old days when I smoked, I used to tear off the end of the cigarettes in order to get my full-scale nicotine hit faster. It was no use dragging in a breath when they were full-length – the smoke would dissipate to almost nothing by the time it reached my lips.   Although, every time I was asked, I laboriously pointed out the perfectly acceptable explanation for me doing so, people around me (usually also smoking) still used to give me funny looks. Of course, I could have fallen into step and smoked the damn things whole, but I’m stubborn and I would also m

follow-me
social2x_01social2x_02social2x_05social2x_19social2x_26social2x_06social2x_03social2x_62social2x_46
social2x_01social2x_02social2x_05social2x_62

 

Save