Ailsa Abraham's Blog: Ailsa Abraham, page 4

All change, everybody off!

The latest bulletin from our home-hospital is that Badger and I are going to have to shift bedrooms. This means my study will disappear to accommodate two double beds as I don’t dare share one with him anymore.

The problem is that he talks, roars, kicks, punches and swears in his sleep. This has got worse with the cancer (fairly obviously) as he is showing the fear he doesn’t when awake. Up til now, I have made a game of it, deciding where he is and who talking to and heading him off at the pass.

Example – he is shouting and swearing at someone about not mooring their ship in a particular place. No worries, been at sea, can play this game – Sorry, Chief, my fault. I should have told you that the other ship radioed in that she was stuck in Holland.

Simples! He swears a bit more and I ask the other guy to push off. Back to sleep everyone.

Unfortunately, he is getting more violent and the other night punched me so hard on the right side that my liver hurt for a while and I was nearly shoved out of bed. He didn’t mean it and was bewildered when I pulled his ear with a “Thank you so much”.

I can’t leave him alone in a room as he needs to wake me if he has a mini-stroke. OK, we have two double beds and my study once cleared out, will make a lovely bedroom for two folks, assorted cats and a dog. Face it, I don’t write much anymore and it will be better used as a large double with[image error] en-suite facilities and coffee maker! (Bloody knew I wouldn’t get to keep that to my self for long!)

Nobody said we’d do it all without some upheaval – I get my sitting room back too – remove the double bed from it and install seating!!!!

 

New and old

This is one of my first entries concerning nursing my husband through his terminal cancer but don’t run away, it will be honest but not sad (often funny if it is like our usual life).

I have dedicated my life at the moment to seeing him out happy. That is basically – no matter how long or short a time he has left, we will do what makes him glad. He has always liked the Mediterranean Sea and loves the Bon Repos Campsite in Santa Susanna, Spain.    We have been faithful clients for 20 years to the point when a disaster hits us, I can ring and get “Oh sure, Elise, no problem. come on over.” (even when my request is out of their normal rules)![image error]

I coped with his diagnosis by coming down with pneumonia, bronchitis and worsening ME (chronic fatigue syndrome) which doesn’t make me a brilliant co-driver!

So as soon as I could stand up he said he wanted to be sure to see the Med again before he departs. We shoved everything in the caravan and Renault van, made sure I wasn’t needed to drive and pushed off.

I understand his wish to revisit all the places where he has had fun in his life: on holiday, in the Royal Navy or travelling around Europe with various wives, friends and family. It would not be fun to do it alone so someone has to trog along to listen to the endless stories of what they got up to there. Also, it is very useful to have enough time to go and say goodbye to peeps who have become friends over the years.

The only bad bit was the macho twonk who runs the English School there. OK, I was a professional language teacher and I don’t approve of anyone with a duff accent teaching a language. This twerp thought it OK to stand within a few feet of our caravan and scream his head off at his teenage employees. When I indicated that this wasn’t acceptable behaviour it caused the girls to laugh at him. So he came over and tried to threaten me. Oh no – not a Weegie Otter, you don’t, Spaniard-in-the-works! So I told him exactly what I thought of him, earning myself a warning that he would have us thrown off the campsite.

The ladies in reception who have known me for a long time wouldn’t dream of it and I never saw Macho man again – Pity as I wanted to shout “Oi! Still here, mouth almighty!”

I am delighted to be home again and don’t feel like travelling again soon. Badger had a couple of mini strokes while we were away and I don’t feel very secure doing it. We will see.

 

Small deities

[image error]https://purplequeennl.blogspot.fr/2018/04/mid-week-flash-challenge-week-52.html

He was fascinated by history. All his life he had listened to stories from other “leftovers” who told him what it was like in the twenty-first century, before the Invasion. Although he was more than half Invader himself, hence no name, he was in love with planet Earth.

Discovering what had been the public library was a huge bonus. He could read prose and poetry from hundreds of years back and imagine how the planet had looked before. Often he had to look up words which had lost their meaning over time. Very patiently he taught himself to create colouring tinctures, bases and applicators before launching his first work on the world “Daffodil Welcome”. Not having seen a trumpet he did not know the simile but he knew that butterflies and lanterns were symbols of hope. That was another word which didn’t figure highly on the planet since the invasion.

Confused….

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Hello Mumz frenz, Lilydog here.

I is confused. Wen I not well I go vet, he stick thing up my bum and needle in neck or give mum poke-down-throat bits. I go home and sleep a lot.

Well mum not been well and doing very good impression of Great Dane barking. She went sleepies for a few days but soon as she was fit for walk we all got in kennel on wheels and went to Spane. It all mixed up with Dad being on the way to Rainbow Bridge. He wanted to come and see the big water for last time so we is on the beetch.

Mum is now busy cos she just Mum to us and Dad. She said her next job in writing was “retirement”. That mean she not tell stories any more. I not mind but Piston is furious. He liked saying “Mum is a Cat, is her job”. She says she got too much inside her head to invent stories. Maybe later when things a bit more quiet.

I remember when my brothers went Rainbow – it very quiet after. So maybe Mum have more time to invent stories then. But I not want Dad to go Rainbow, even if he be with Titch, Dogge n Gubby.

The Hitch

[image error]https://purplequeennl.blogspot.fr/2018/04/mid-week-flash-challenge-week-50.html

 

All my life I had felt disadvantaged, alien, as if I were staring in at humanity through a pane of glass, isolated and only pretending to understand or join in.

You’ll imagine my self-disgust when I discovered that it wasn’t a feeling…I really WAS behind a pane of glass, watching, waving but not participating.

Spending my usual amount of time on reflection and fore-thought, I drew back my elbow and then let fly, breaking the glass, smashing a face-sized hole in it. Finally I could poke my nose through and peer at what I had only ever seen through it. I could smell Life. Sounds I had only imagined I was hearing finally made their way through to my brain.

My heart leaped within me at the thought of enlarging the hole, climbing through and finally participating in life completely. Finally being able to speak to other people real face to real face…touch being genuine touch, sight being clear…but of course there was a price. There always is. The glass had been easy to smash with my hand-knit covered elbow but now it was like solid iron. If I wanted to make the hole bigger it would rip my hands to pieces.

I could go through and out into the real world…but at what cost? My life? Would I do it?

Son of Cliché Rides Again

You know what I hate about clichés?  A great way to write lazily, obviously and avoids the need to be innovative, of course …. but mainly I loathe them because they are true. Except …

In one second my whole life came crashing down – piffle! I am a disaster-magnet and very rarely does anything happen in one go to ruin your existence! Believe me. In my experience it is much more like wearing a huge sombrero, standing under balconies with small children lobbing pebbles into the brim. The effect is cumulative.[image error]

Take my absence from social media for the last few months. Please do, I wish someone would, they have not been fun.

It started with a biggie which would have floored most people. My husband, having been diagnosed with terminal untreatable cancer, asked me not to let him go into hospital and his specialist put me in charge as his sole carer.

It was one of those unthinking “of course, darling” answers. Never one to shirk my duty I assumed the responsibility without much reflection on what the ramifications might be. You, dear reader, being an intelligent sort, have already worked out that my life is no longer my own and Milord will come first for the foreseeable future.

First there is the family. Like everyone else’s, we have had fall-outs, disputes and not been on speaking terms for years at a time. It didn’t cross my mind that rels who hadn’t sent a Christmas card in years would want to come back.

OK that was a wonderful lesson to me. I have changed. I’m not the same person I was ten years ago and not defined by one bit of bad behaviour so why should other people be? I decided that I was cursed with too good a memory and a bad case of Scottish vendetta which makes the Mafia look like amateurs. It was a liberating [image error]experience to find that “life really is too short”. It’s a big improvement.

Had my other half shown instant symptoms it might have been easier. He is currently doing a marvellous impression of a fit 80-year-old with “nasty turns” coming on unexpectedly, suddenly and frighteningly. Right, he’s had these for a long time but they are becoming nastier and more frequent.

It hit me hardest when I had to cancel a trip to London I had hoped to fit in before he was too ill to leave alone. This would have been my last chance for a solo trip. Eh well, I don’t mind but it brought it home to me. I have a job.

My own health hit the skids and we had to do a job-swap. I have been fighting pneumonia when people in the next room can hear me breathing in, and bronchitis which just makes me sicken others with my coughing.

So it has been a merry game of tag while we decide who is in the worse state and who is duty nurse.

I just have not had the oomph to go on line and be jolly. I hate being depressive and bringing everyone else down so it has been hard to find much to say that was positive. Given that my writing career appeared (at one point) to be hitting the skids as well….let’s just say that not everything is lost and I’m looking forward to getting back onto social media and concentrating on laughs, publicity and my new adventure in writing.

Overture, curtains and beginners, please!

Mumz day

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Hello Mumz frenz!

Is special day today for all critters to be nice to ther mum. That not hard, we nice to our Mum every day! (that is an explanation mark wot means I is laffing)

Problem is we been wotching telly and it say that mumz has to be gived cards n flowers or chocolate like wot I not allowed cos it bad for me: this is problem cos it means going shop: I not sposed to go into shop cos I not a Sistance Dog. Also it need pennies!

It not hard to find pennies on ground when out walking but is difficult to carry them and bluddi cats no help at all!  They drop them on floor, bat them around then loose interest …. wot mean I got to go pick the pennies up again and carry in gob wot leave nasty taste there.

Mum not like flowers in kennel. She love them outside and say hello to the flower fayreez inside them. But she say is crooel to cut heads off an I not like it done to me. That true enuff.

I got Dad to take me to shop in carcar so he carry me to card place and apparenli I am “Bluddi great heavy bitch” wot is funni cos that wot he normally call Mum!

Cats wer very pleezed wiff ther card cos it looks like Bastet wot is ther Big Mother in Sky but I was miffed cos my card was in hoomung obviously and Frentch so there no word for woof. Cos it very difficult ritin wiff pen and paws I got Dad to help me an cats dint even TRY!

I no he rited good stuff cos Mum looked at them n went all sniffy snout. She kissed us all an made howling noise for a bit.

She not havin chocolate either cos she keep me company but she not eat dog food, not reelie, she pretend to.  So we had happi mudder day and hope you n yore pups did too

Lik on snout from Lily-dog xxxxxxx

[image error](Nurse Lily taking care of Mum)

Now orchestrated!

In junior school I was drawn to the percussion section of the school orchestra. Of course I was, banging, hitting, generally making a racket was something at which I was rather good. So I spent a [image error]few years messing around with triangles, cymbals, tambourines etc. although they wouldn’t let me loose on drums because I was considered somewhat “undisciplined”.

[image error]Since the age of 15 I have transferred to the “concussion” section in the pit. I began by fracturing my skull and have been working on it ever since. Following the last crash when I wrote off my ex La-Poste van “Custard” I have had all the signs of head injury for two months.[image error]

Losing friends on social media and not advertising my books has depressed me greatly so I am going to have to try staying awake and get back into the socialising,

Forgive me, friends, colleagues and publishers. I’m trying to come back xxxxxxxxxxx

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A Stranger in the Cove

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Series: Templeton Cove

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: Jan 1 st 2018

Publisher: Harlequin

Mac Orman is on a mission. When he discovers his recently deceased father had been searching for his birth mother, Mac aims to finish the job by finding the grandmother he never knew. His quest leads him to Templeton Cove—and a firecracker of a woman who instantly jump-starts his tortured heart.  

For Mac, Kate Harrington is the most tempting kind of distraction. But their sizzling connection comes with a side of suspicion for Kate, who doesn’t trust this brooding stranger in her town. Mac arrived with no plans to stay, but as he falls for Kate, he wonders how he could ever possibly leave.

EXCERPT

Oh, for the love of God. The man’s smile was slow, soft and as sexy as hell. It was like an invisible aphrodisiac on her newly ignited libido. She took another sip of her drink, her heart racing and her body on fire. He looked at her as though he had X-ray vision…or the ability to make her want to strip without the request even passing his lips. Every inch of her body was intensely aware of him and she didn’t like it. Not one tiny bit. Good looks and even better bodies were not to be trusted. This guy could be just as much of a cheater as her ex. Even more so, if his killer smile was anything to go by. She couldn’t imagine a woman not being affected by it. So why did she want to keep looking at him?

He leaned his elbow on the bar and faced her. “So…” He took a sip of his drink. “Do you

live around here?”

Feigning nonchalance, she sat straighter on her stool and drew forth as much of a welcome attitude as she could. It wasn’t this stranger’s fault he’d attracted and intrigued her in one very dangerous blow. “Yes.”

He smiled. “That’s all I get?”

“That’s all you get.” She returned his smile, her body relaxing a little. His voice was rich

and deep and had the same warming effect on her as a shot of whiskey on a cold night. “That is, until I know a little more about you.”

“Shoot.” He drank. “Ask me anything you want.”

“Okay…” Her gaze dropped frustratingly to his mouth, most likely quashing her

nonchalance in a heartbeat. She shifted on her seat and lifted her gaze to his…although his eyes were by no means a safer option. She cleared her throat. “What brings you to the Cove?”

His gaze locked on hers and the seconds ticked by. His blue eyes darkened as his smile

faltered. Kate raised her eyebrows, curiosity whispering through her. “Was that not a good

question to start with?”

He flitted his focus to the band once more. “I’m looking for work.”

She frowned. “In Templeton?”

“It’s as good a place as any, isn’t it?”

She hazarded a guess that the shift in his tone was meant to induce a throw away question, to make her believe it was no big deal why he was in Templeton. Little did Mr. Bad Boy know, she was blessed—or sometimes cursed—with the innate ability to read between the lines, to sense when something wasn’t quite right with people or situations. Her senses pinged to high alert with this guy at the sudden stiffness in his body, the way his jaw had set. His easy demeanour of a moment before had been replaced with clear defensiveness.

BUY LINKS

Amazon UK – https://goo.gl/vG267K

Amazon US – https://goo.gl/eBeJzG

Barnes & Noble – https://goo.gl/ejrXnF

ABOUT RACHEL BRIMBLE

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Rachel lives with her husband and two teenage daughters in a small town near Bath in the UK. After having several novels published by small US presses, she secured agent representation in 2011. Since 2013, she has had seven books published by Harlequin Superromance (Templeton Cove Stories) and an eighth coming in Jan 2018. She also has four Victorian romances with eKensington/Lyrical Press.

Rachel is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and Romance Writers of America, and was selected to mentor the Superromance finalist of So You Think You Can Write 2014 contest. When she isn’t writing, you’ll find Rachel with her head in a book or walking the beautiful English countryside with her family. Her dream place to live is Bourton-on-the-Water in South West England.

She likes nothing more than connecting and chatting with her readers and fellow romance writers. Rachel would love to hear from you!

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rachelbrimbleauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RachelBrimble?lang=en

Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1806411.Rachel_Brimble

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rachelbrimbleauthor/?hl=en

Blog: http://rachelbrimble.blogspot.co.uk/

Website: http://rachelbrimble.com/

GIVEAWAY

£20/$20 Amazon Gift Certificate

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/4be03017275/

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Purgatory Hotel

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Genre: Thriller/paranormal

Release Date: 26 th September Paperback 7 th November Kindle

Publisher: Crooked Cat Books

18+

Dakota Crow has been murdered, her body dumped in a lonely part of the woods, and nobody knows but her and her killer.

Stranded in Purgatory, a rotting hotel on the edge of forever, with no memory of her death, Dakota knows she must have done something bad to be stranded among murderers and rapists. To get to somewhere safer, she must hide from the shadowy stranger stalking her through the corridors of the hotel, and find out how to repent for her sins.

But first she must re-live her life.

Soon she will learn about her double life, a damaging love affair, terrible secrets, and lies that led to her violent death.

Dakota must face her own demons, and make amends for her own crimes before she can solve her murder and move on.

But when she finds out what she did wrong, will she be truly sorry?

BUY LINKS

AMAZON – https://goo.gl/SWNMGx

GOODREADS – https://goo.gl/LhZ47j

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

On a warm day in July 1978, a mother was admitted to hospital, awaiting the arrival of her new baby. She was reading Sleeping Murder by Agatha Christie and the midwives thought it a gruesome choice for an expectant mother. A story of a long forgotten murder and repressed memories. As it turned out her new baby, Anne-Marie would grow up and find herself drawn to all things macabre, and would one day herself turn out a story of murder and memories lost.

Anne Marie grew up on the Essex coast with her parents and six siblings in a house that was full of books and movies and set the scene for her lifelong love of both.

She began writing short stories when she was still at primary school after reading the book The October Country by Ray Bradbury. He was and still is her favourite author and the reason she decided at age 9 that she too would be a writer someday.

n her teens she continued to write short stories and branched out into poetry, publishing a few in her late teens. In her early twenties she began committing herself to writing a novel and wrote one by the age of 20 that she then put away, fearing it was too weird for publication.

She wrote Purgatory Hotel over several years, but again kept it aside after several rejections from publishers. Luckily for her, she found a home for her twisted tale with Crooked Cat Books.

Her favourite authors include Ray Bradbury, Jack Kerouac, Stephen King, Denis Lehane and Douglas Coupland. She also takes great inspiration from music and movies, her favourite artists being Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, Johnny Cash, Interpol, David Lynch and David Fincher.

Anne-Marie moved to London in 2008 where she lives to this day, amidst books and DVDs, with her husband and daughter.

Facebook: https://goo.gl/JC4NR3

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AOrmsbyAuthor

Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17197211.Anne_Marie_Ormsby

Blog: https://pirateburlesque.wordpress.com/

Website: https://www.annemarieormsby.com/

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