Sunday, 21 May 2017


The guts of a good story comes from experience and that is something I have. Let's begin with a half lifetime spent embroiled in every facet of the meat trade, from London's East End and the fabulous Smithfield Meat Market to the Antipodean fleshpots of New Zealand's meat industry. Hands-on experience from the insignificant bacon slicer and display cases of the country's finest supermarkets to the gut rooms and boning tables of Auckland's now nonexistent freezing works and killing floors provides flavour for the themes of my stories. It doesn't stop there. Now consider a further twenty five years involved with New Zealand's top real estate company and the blow-counter blow of the marketing of residential homes and you will be offered an understanding of the source of the ingredients of my novels. I was born in London's East End, dockland, in 1934 and moved to New Zealand with my wife Mary in 1963. We have lived in Auckland since that time. We have four sons, eight grandsons and three granddaughters and now one great grandson and two great grand daughters; where does it end?. I have travelled the world to its four corners and love to include that experience in what I write especially; the three years served in the British armed forces with the Colours. Two of these years involved active service in the Suez Canal Zone of Egypt. My last venture outside New Zealand's shores was to Memphis and Nashville which fulfilled a lifetime's ambition. My love of music and lyric has always influenced my direction with a strong lean towards the works of William Blake, Hank Williams and Kris Kristofferson. In 1983 a challenging career change involved me in the real estate industry. The lack of enthusiasm on the part of publishing companies has never deterred my desire to write. I love to write and now, in a potentially retired situation, the words and stories pour from me to take the form of family sagas and crime novels set in venues worldwide. My work has been well received by my peers and I have responded well to their constructive criticism which has led to a better product. I have recently completed my 13th novel, (The Shadow of the Black Sheep), built around crime and deception on the streets of Auckland. There is never a shortage of those things in New Zealand. This novel and all others are available now for purchase as a Kindle book Amazon. I have produced one published paperback novel - 'On The Lip Of A Lion' which was well received by readers and media and a hard back published in London - 'Lost In Time' - a futuristic while historic mind bender. I'm older now and even more enthusiastic and continue to write for adult audiences with great emphasis on the hearts and minds of my characters. It often happens when I turn the last page in a novel I have remained hungry wanting more - and I use that for a template for my books. I want you to look on me as a purveyor of the written word, a dramatic chef and here on this site I present a smorgasbord of verbal delights penned to satisfy your appetite for good tales with tasty story lines flavoured with the everyday ingredients of life that regularly have us crying in our beer, laughing, wanting, loving. Each one of the 13 novels offered to you here is a ‘chef’s special’ built on my lifetime experiences which stretch from the Blitzkrieg of London when the next bomb to fall in 1940 could well have been the last I would know of - to the bountiful shores of the Land of the Long White Cloud in 2017. I enjoy writing and fill my pages with twists and turns aimed to keep the reader involved and not wanting to put the book down. It is working well up to now. 13 novels that cover the world - places I have been and know about from the sands of the North African desert and the Egyptian Canal Zone - the magic of Memphis and Nashville - the outback of Australia and the whirlwind of its cities - L A and Mexico - the streets of London where I was born and of course the wonder and splendour of New Zealand. Love, murder, laughter, crime, revenge, passion, you name it - it’s all there to be savoured in my pages. Now I invite you to try something different and I welcome you aboard my travel train - a click of the mouse clips your ticket and you are on your way. My stories reflect real-life situations, page-turners filled with people and events that are credible and recognisable in everyday life. If you enjoy devious mind bending crime stories, look no further. It is my aim to leave you satisfied, but wanting more. I’ve not yet heard of anyone who didn’t empty his plate when sampling my cuisine. Thank you. I’m Roy Jenner.

Friday, 19 May 2017

An exciting exposure of life in New Zealand and the world over in 13 heart reaching novels - each available now as a download on for US$ 2.99. Crime, mystery, passion, heartache and adventure.

Ten people of senior years reveal the secrets of their lifetimes. Read what brought them to Winter’s Song, a place for the aged and infirm, as they unlock their minds to reveal their personal stories of struggle and success on their journeys through the sensational 20th century. Personal tragedies and world wars left their marks on their hearts and minds. Life was good when we were young and we were never given reason to think otherwise, nor to consider the remote evolution of man such as late adult hood, retirement and futuristic conditions when the leaves would begin to fall from the tree of life. No way, that would be then and we were now and such things were too far away for the young and vital and not worthy of any thought. Old age was for old people, them not us; but how quickly the pages of the book of life turn before suddenly we find we are easing from the autumn of our lives and conceding to the comforting strains of winter’s song to find ourselves looking down and back. Then we are the ones confronted by the truth and the truth is, it does happen and has happened and is happening to us right now; it was happening to Adam Mulberry. Adam bore the label of old really well and had done so since being admitted to Winter’s Song Retirement Village four years earlier. Each of his aged companions had a story, an anthology of life experiences which piece by piece he had slowly extracted from them as respect and confidence grew. It had been hard at first, but gradually for many of them Adam had compiled a file in his laptop. Each was a walking history book which in some cases went back almost a full century and it excited him to know he had been accepted by them. With their permission he had converted that knowledge and documented in biographical detail, a series of short stories, cameos that depicted the change that had occurred in a dozen lifetimes on the converging trails that led people not known to each other to a common destination; Winter’s Song. These are their stories.

His dream was Eden Park - Number 10 jersey. His nightmare Mt Eden Prison - cell block 10. A promising All Black rugby career shattered. A sentence of a life behind bars can do much to change a man’s thinking. ‘A grave miscarriage of justice,’ were the words on the paper the Minister of Justice had handed to Terry Stamp when it was decided after fourteen years of incarceration he had not killed his wife. ‘Go home, my man. Start your life again. You have plenty of good years remaining.’ Yes, plenty of good years to control the bitterness filling his heart and driving him on in his personal quest for his wife’s killer. He and Cavanagh had been married ten years when she was taken from him in a brutal attack by a spurned group of rugby supporters, when Terry Stamp was a name on everyone’s lips whenever All Black football was mentioned. It was a misinformed and foolish man who dared to say Terry wouldn’t pull on the number 10 jersey the next time the All Blacks ran onto the field. It was inferred he might even lead them. Cavanagh’s death changed everything and with the nation against him he was sent to prison. He was found unconscious and intoxicated in his smashed car close to where his wife had died. Her blood was on his clothes. Witness stated they had heard his words that day when he threatened to kill her. Five years of fruitless search has Terry accepting those responsible may never be brought to justice, but the double death of his closest friends in their home opens up an incredible line of inquiry. Ken and Jean Fraser died because it was thought they knew too much, but they died for what they didn’t know. They knew nothing. Terry’s quest carries him to the gates of Maidstone Prison in Kent to meet an unsavoury character who has first hand information on the killing of twenty years earlier. Paedophilic Elliott Page has personal knowledge of the men who raped and strangled Cavanagh Stamp, an act of lust, but also retribution for being punched out by Terry at an after-match function on the night of the murder. Elliott Page has been blackmailing the killer with the intention of revealing all to a ‘glossy weekly’ for a substantial sum. The killer is ready to pay and ready to kill again. Terry Stamp is also prepared to pay and he ups the price. Too many innocent people have died because of these people and he is too far into this game now to quit. He knows they were responsible, not for Cavanagh’s death alone, but also for the death of his friends in Auckland. The trail of death and destruction widens as Terry follows the killer back to New Zealand and calls for settlement on a long overdue account. In the twenty bears since being falsely accused several people at that after match function in 2016 have aspired to responsible positions in the legal profession and in the field of New Zealand Rugby Union. When Terry Stamp starts to turn over stones certain individuals start to rock on their pedestals and Terry vows to be there when they come tumbling down. Terry needs no help in his venture. He has nothing to lose and has dreamed about this day of reckoning for twenty years. The scene grows decidedly ugly when he finally ‘takes his guns to town.’ This is a graphic account of a lonely man, wild in his sorrow, and hell bent on revenge. There are many intriguing characters as Terry is ruthless in his desire to pay back just a little of what is owed.

World War 2, 1940. For 76 consecutive nights Adolph Hitler unleashed the fury of his Luftwaffe on Britain’s largest city in a nonstop hail of bombs that had helpless civilians wilting under their blast. Step Green was three weeks old and his sister Tess two years when the Green family of eleven siblings sought refuge from the bombing and in desperation were evacuated from London’s East End and dispatched to sympathetic countries of the British Empire to evade the Fuehrer’s wrath. 77 child evacuees drowned when a German U-boat sank the ocean liner City of Benares on which they travelled. Having been assessed as being too young to travel, Step and Tess were sent to East Anglia to live with an aunt where they were reasonably safe from the war, but never safe from death which lurked in the hedgerows of Poplar Farm. Tess was brutally killed and at twelve years of age Step’s loyalty and love for his sister committed him to a lifetime of retribution during which he travelled the world to satisfy his childhood vow to avenge her death. The killer was punished by the courts, but ‘never enough’, said Step who pursued that killer, released under a new identity along his trail of freedom to Auckland New Zealand. It was there Step learned to love and to forgive and begin a new life with a brother he thought had perished in a dramatic action on the high seas. With murder and arson in the headlines of Auckland newspapers it was judged Step Green had administered his own version of justice. Throughout the trial he refused to plead his innocence and was committed to Mt Eden Prison for life. Guilty, or not guilty? You be the judge.

It was too late for introductions. You don’t shake hands with a dead man; especially one who has had the fingers and thumbs of both hands severed at the first joint. Phi Rudolph Auckland CID knew he had the job ahead of him as he took stock of Anton Clegg Chairman of the Board of Air-Chill Cold Storage strapped in his chair in his private office at 3am on a disturbing Sunday in the middle of winter. Here was a man who was going nowhere other than the morgue from a place that resembled an abattoir more than a cold store.Chief Inspector Philip Rudolph didn’t need a coroner to tell him Clegg had used up his life’s supply of group something blood. There was a gory trail of investigation ahead for Auckland's top policeman. Prime suspect Greg Parkinson was drunk enough and sober enough to leave his car after a Saturday night birthday binge and wander into the loading bay of a city warehouse for shelter. He heard somebody’s death cries and stumbled upon the butchered body of Anton Clegg. Clegg who is a white collar criminal who excels in misappropriating investors funds. The question had to be raised -'Is it Anton Clegg? His identical twin brother is knight of the realm Sir Alexander Clegg, philanthropist. The two are often mistaken for each other. Who was the one slain in that Auckland City cold store? No fingers means no fingerprints which makes it hard to confirm the identity of the bloodied remains. Sir Alex was in Brunei on business which further frustrates immediate identification. And so began the chapters of corruption, murder and suspicion. Anton Clegg was not unknown to Greg Parkinson who with Clegg’s blood on him was the immediate suspect. It was one of Clegg’s investment companies those years before that had eaten up in excess of a million dollars of Greg’s money and in the process destroyed his marriage. ‘I was Taken by Experts,’ Greg told the police who were keen to connect him to the crime in the cold store. This story is more intricate than that, however, with a string of dead bodies and savage deeds reaching from the Eastern Bay of Plenty to the Bay of Islands; from Hamilton City in New Zealand to The Rocks on the waterfront of Sydney. The strange happenings at The Stables, the home of Sir Alex add spice to a story which has leading characters disappearing with Sir Alex himself, succumbing to a stroke which leaves him immobilized. He is then at the mercy of discriminate people such as his head groom Benjamin Scully and his personal physician and surgeon John Delmage. Add to the mix the devious dealing of barrister Wolfgang Blauner who has clear intentions of redirecting the entire content of the Clegg empire into a private funding account which will be shared by a select number of operators. The mystery deeps and suspicions are raised with the disappearance of Sir Alex Clegg’s housekeeper, Yvonne Barns who has been his personal friend and servant for twenty years. How dangerous, or how harmless is Wannenburg Morne, the square-headed South African ex rugby player, master carpenter and cabinet maker, whose face had been rearranged so many times in the front row of the scrum his own mother would have had difficulty recognising him? Answering only to the name Shark, his service in the French Foreign Legion has fine-tuned his hard, unforgiving nature which never encourages long friendships. He conforms well to the job description laid down by the main players in this game of life, death and elimination. This is an exciting plot of extortion and corrupt activity; fast moving and seething with interesting characters trying hard to remain alive. All are members of the hardest school of criminals who know better than to turn their backs of those working beside them. Twists and turns will have you guessing through to the last pages. This is vicious crime at its most ruthless executed by hardened criminals who allow no one to stand in their way.