Shani Struthers's Blog, page 10

Creating a Sense of Placement – Michela O’Brien

Today,  I have the absolute pleasure of hosting Michela O’Brien on my blog. Talking about Creating a Sense of Placement in novels, she offers some sound advice. But first, I have to say, Michela is one of my favourite new authors – published with Crooked Cat, she has two books on offer Playing on Cotton Clouds and A Summer of Love (the latter set in our mutally beloved Cornwall). Described as contemporary romances, I would say they’re so much more, delving into relationships of all kinds and often over several generations. I’ve also had the pleasure of beta-reading some of Michela’s future works and suffice to say, readers are in for a treat. If you haven’t discovered her yet, links to books etc are below – treat yourself – after all, Christmas is coming!

Michela – take it away…

A page-turning plot and well drafted developed characters are obvious elements to a successful book, but there is another which can contribute to the magic of a novel, and that’s the setting.

A well constructed setting can become a character in itself, breathing life into the book and playing an important supporting role to the protagonists, and it’s essential to make it come off the page.

A world can be imagined and totally created, familiar or exotic, but whatever we choose we need to make it convincing enough not only for the characters, but so that the readers can inhabit it too.

In my books, Playing on Cotton Clouds and A Summer of Love, I have used all three types of location: places I made up, places I know well and places I have only imagined to visit.

Where I made up places, I used fragments of familiar locations to create an unidentified imaginary town or village. In Playing on Cotton Clouds, the anonymous ordinary provincial town (in this case located somewhere in the Midlands) becomes the constraint for the young characters’ dreams, as they plan their lives ahead looking for an escape. Making the town an amalgam of familiar places, gives these feelings universality in which readers can identify with their own experiences. On the other hand, the made up Cornish village in A Summer of Love is designed as a magical background to the love story and to serve as a contrast to the alienation of life in London, in a reversal of roles, where it’s the small town that becomes the escape in which the characters can fulfil their dreams. In both cases, the real locations behind the imaginary settings helped creating a true sense of placement that readers can still recognise.

When using real settings, familiarity or research is the key to avoid the tweet from the picky reader telling you that you put a famous landmark in the wrong square or that the lovely building you have just described is not there any more – though you can always invoke narrative licence when placing a fabulous old candy shop in a street that doesn’t have any.

Both my novels describe real places at specific times (the 80s and 90s all the way to today) and often I was able to draw from my personal memories of places I visited along the years, being London, Tuscany or Cornwall.

But other times, I set the action in cities I would love to visit, but haven’t had the chance to see (yet!). Authors in the past have managed to build on what they had learned from books or a photo with their own imagination, at times with striking results. These days, with the internet, writers have the world at their finger tips and can easily explore exotic places without leaving their keyboard, even travel back in time to find out what a place looked like in a different era.

For contemporary descriptions, one tool I find especially useful is Street View – ©Google.

I described a whole scene taking place in Central Park, New York – a city I’ve never been to – after I had taken a stroll in and around the park on Street View. In a similar way, I “walked” around Amsterdam before I described it in Playing on Cotton Clouds. Of course settings are not simply made up by images. Synesthetic descriptions of smells, sounds and atmosphere are equally important and if you can’t draw from personal experience, you can certainly fill in the gaps with indirect knowledge and, yes, your imagination.

Whether imagined, purposefully designed, drawn from memory or researched, settings should be made to be more than just a stage on which the characters perform; spend some time to create and describe the location you’re going to use and make it a living part of the story to give it more depth and extra dimension, and fully immerse the reader in the book.

And here’s the links to the books, Michela’s Facebook page and blog.

http://words-in-a-jar.blogspot.co.uk/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Michela-Sacchi-OBrien/16450121895

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Playing-Cotton-Clouds-Michela-OBrien-ebook/dp/B007WFK3B2

http://www.amazon.co.uk/A-Summer-Love-Michela-OBrien-ebook/dp/B00B3MKEQ4

A Smackdown – Wassat?

I know, I asked myself the same question! But there is a Smackdown and it is coming and my hero du jour – Joseph Scott – happens to be deeply embroiled in it.  Okay, here’s the deal – all the leading lights featured in Omnific Publishing authors’ books are entering a smackdown – a contest of sorts, where votes count and the least voted for falls by the wayside, one by one by one. If you head on over to Omnific Publishing Group’s FB page, you’ll see all sorts of trailers/pictures of these magnificent specimens (vampires and other wordly creatures amongst them) but only a photo of mine! Yep, I’m the technologically challenged one here, the one who can’t work out how to even begin to create a trailer, lol! And yes, my man may suffer because of that, but hey, there’s always The Trecastle Inn to go and drown his sorrows in.

All in all, it’s just a bit of fun – so, here’s my man:

I know – devestating huh? Check out those twinkly blue eyes, that ‘come hither’ smile, that gorgeous hair (dark blonde I’m assured but it looks brown to me!). If you’ve read The Runaway Year and fallen in love with him, you can vote for him as of 30th September over on Sarah’s Blog.

I’ll let you know more details as and when I know them but suffice to say, there are prizes involved – pretty good ones too by the looks of them! So come on get voting – catapult my boy to the stars!

Sheryl Browne – Romantic Heroes Tour

“En Garde! Safkhet Publishing and Sheryl Browne are going on tour and bringing you the entire Sheryl Browne romance collection! Follow the adventures of your Romantic Heroes and get your chance to win signed copies of all Sheryl’s books—Recipes for Disaster, Somebody to Love, Warrant for Love, A Little Bit of Madness, and Learning to Love.” The tour runs from 16th September until 27th September (excluding weekends) and promises to be a lot of fun!

As part of this tour Safkhet publishing is having a fantastic short story competition! The prizes are – Finalists will have their story published in an e-anthology and the winner will be offered a publishing contract. For full details go to http://safkhetpublishing.wordpress.com/ where full terms and conditions can be found.

And there’s more! There will be reviews, author interviews and guest posts. Plus, if you’ve ever read any of Sheryl’s books in the past, then you are invited to post the link to your review to be in with a chance of winning a prize!

Now for the small print: This competition is not run in conjunction with Facebook and Facebook is not responsible for any competitions held on this page or for providing prizes.

There certainly is more! I’m thrilled to be hosting the lovely Sheryl Browne on my blog. I’ve just read her latest book Learning to Love and – yep – loved it! You can read my review here folks! Sheryl, tell us more about it.

Oh, I’m so glad you asked that, Shani, because I don’t very often talk about my books! Simply, Learning to Love explores the fragility of love, life and relationships. At the heart of the story is an emotionally withdrawn, angry little boy who is grieving the loss of his mother. Ten-year old Jake’s anger is aimed at his dad, who In Jake’s mind deserted his mum in her hour of need. Dr David Adams, Jake’s father, is carrying the heavy burden of guilt around the death of his wife. For all his training as a doctor, David had been as ill-equipped to deal with her decision to delay anti-leukemic treatment for their unborn baby’s sake as he is to deal with his son’s grief. His guilt is exacerbated by the fact that he made a terrible mistake before his wife died. He feels Jake’s anger is justified.

Andrea Kelly, mum two temperamental teens and a toddler, is juggling a job, a fiancé who has become increasingly distant and a high-spirited mum who is showing signs of early onset dementia. When her house goes up in flames, she’s offered refuge by David, and she and her family are instrumental in bringing this lost little boy and his equally lost father together. As her fiancé’s behaviour grows more bizarre and her own relationship starts to crumble, Andrea finds herself increasingly attracted to David. But can she love a man who, by his own admission, is flawed?

For interest, Learning to Love started life as a short, entitled The Memory Box – the theme of which is bereavement in childhood, which was accepted by the Birmingham City University as part of their Anthology. Obviously, I was really pleased. I think that incentivised me to get on and write the book.

And your journey towards publication, was it a smooth or a rocky one?

Ooh, littered with potholes. I’ve fallen down so many I have bruises in places you wouldn’t believe. In all honesty, I think the road to publication is a learning curve. I have been agented along the way, but there are so many factors at play when trying to place a book, it has to be sellable, you have to be sellable and, crucially, it has to hit the market just right. It’s not easy (this is why we have to love what we do, particularly as we (most of us) struggle to juggle, work, home, family and life’s little mishaps).

In short, I struggled with plot. You know, the all-important beginning, middle end: This is where my characters start out; this is where they end up. How they got there + what obstacles they faced and how they grew along the way = story. Simple.  Ahem.

I did employ editorial help and, eventually, I was lucky enough to get my work accepted by the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme. The book in question didn’t get published right away, but their feedback was invaluable. I applied that feedback, along with advice from beta readers, to my next book, which was published in the US. I did go back to that first book (something I couldn’t have done sooner. I just didn’t have the tools) and I’m now super-proud that this is one of my books published by Safkhet Publishing: Warrant for Love.

Who or what inspires you to write? What subjects are close to your heart?

People! Life and the gamut of emotion that comes with being human. I think we all have to deal with various events along the way, some of them happy, some sad, some tragic. I like to look at how people cope with those events, how such events can shape a person. Ultimately, though, I’m looking at love, emotion. Basically, I’m writing the time-honoured story of boy meets girl, boy gets girl, despite all obstacles. I’m writing romance. IMHO, we need romance more than ever, hope that good can win over evil, that there can be a happily ever after. Relationships are rarely perfect, but reading about a relationship, be it a burgeoning or long-standing one, overcoming the many obstacles life throws at it is inspiring and satisfying. I think people want to escape into a good book, to believe that love conquers all. Relationships, in all their many forms, are fundamental to the plot of most books. Romance highlights love, that which sets us apart as humans and which every human craves and needs. Love is universal and timeless. Love inspires, art, music. Love, particularly unrequited or lost love, can also drive us to passionate acts of despair or even madness. Through love we see all human emotion. For me love, and the joy/pain surrounding it, is fundamental to a story about people. If it was good enough for Shakespeare…

Location is very important for me in a novel, I love writing about places I know and, in turn, if a book is set in a place I love, I’m sold. How important is location to you?

I tend to write about characters closer to home, mostly because I am calling on personal experience and writing about a particular subject, often centring round family and community. I have to say I am in total awe of authors who can write about far-flung places without actually having visited. I’d love to set a book in an exotic location someday. Lake Como springs to mind, if only Clooney wouldn’t keep ignoring my research requests.

And what about humour? I’ve read Warrant for Love and it was hilarious!

Ah, humour. I think when we laugh at characters in a romantic comedy, we’re actually laughing at ourselves. We’re amused because it’s familiar, comedic or embarrassing situation we could – maybe have – found ourselves in.  That heart-freezing is-my-dress-tucked-in-my-knickers moment when exiting the loo at a posh do?

Readers want compelling characters, people they care about, who do trip up and fall over life’s little obstacles; couples with conflicting ideas or emotions which need to be confronted and ideally resolved by the story. The difficult bit is making your reader laugh with your character as he/she falls over those obstacles, because the reader is empathising with the character, because they’ve been there. Can I just quote a title to a review I received (not the whole review, I promise!). Here it is: Laughing…crying…commiserating..rejoicing: Marvellous! From a reader unknown to me, this review made me laugh, cry and rejoice. Leaving the reader with a huge dollop of feel-good factor is why I write. It’s just so hugely satisfying.

Do you outline your plot meticulously before writing or do you fly by the seat of your pants, allowing your characters to get your from A to B?

Hmm? Well, most of my books are based on real people, My hero in Somebody to Love, for instance, was based loosely on a widowed father left to bring his young autistic son up on his own, combined with my own experience of special needs. In Learning to Love, the story was based around someone who left behind him a fiancé and child. When you write you tend to view the situation through the eyes of the character, in this case through the eyes of the child. The story grows from the emotion. I do have a plot, honestly! Because emotions are so predominately at play, though, my characters do tend to drive the story in a completely different direction to the one I’d intended.

Of all the characters you’ve created, who is your favourite and why?

Ooh, well, now there’s a difficult one. I love all my characters (as a writer you have to care deeply about them). Paul Davis, though, I think, from Warrant for Love (do you know actually felt guilty then, choosing one over the others?). Yes, he wears a bite-the-buttons off blue uniform, but… the man was just so down on himself, then down again when we couldn’t initially get published…  *sigh*. He basically had the most growing to do. He’s still not perfect, but that’s OK, I can live with him anyway. (ps I’ve read Warrant for Love too and have to say – Paul Davis is amongst my favourite romantic heros. Looks like somebody else loves it too!)

What’s a typical writing day like for you? Do you need coffee/tea/wine to survive?

Tea. I plug the intravenous drip in around the same time I plug in my PC. And a teeny white wine come evening … or two.

What advice do you have for people aspiring to be published? What would you have done differently?

If I had to offer advice, it really would be not to give up. If you truly can’t live without writing then do it. My tips would be:

-         Make sure your first chapter is your best! The first chapter has to provide the all-important hook. It also has to introduce the characters and show their inner/outer conflict, i.e. set the tone for the story.

-         Feedback is invaluable. Do consider joining a writers’ group/teaming up with a critique partner/beta reader.

-         Read you work out loud, into a tape recorder, rather than to the dog. It’s a great way of ironing out the glitches and getting rid of superfluous narrative.

-         Think about building yourself an online presence. Authors need to be totally interactive in promotion in today’s publishing climate. Set up a website or blog, join Twitter, Facebook and Goodreads and start connecting with people. There are other social networking platforms, but don’t overwhelm yourself!

-         Consider linking up with online author-led communities .It’s a great way of offering mutual support.  I’m a now a proud member and editor at Loveahappyending Lifestyle

-         Use every piece of constructive criticism you get, and always take on board suggestions. Remember, if you do get rejected by an agent or publisher and they have gone to the trouble of commenting on your work, despite having hundreds of submissions to wade through, it’s because they think your work has potential.They wouldn’t have bothered otherwise. It really can be hard sometimes, but take the advice on board, dust yourself off, and move on.

-         If you are submitting, research agent/publisher submission guidelines and check your genre is something they represent. Keep your covering letter short. A brief bio and intro the book is sufficient.

-         If you  decide to e-publish, as many excellent authors are choosing to do, make sure your ms is error-free, the best it can be, promote and be proud.

Self-doubt is the curse of every writer – ours is a subjective trade – what do you do when a case of the hee bee gee bees attacks?

I have a sleepless night – and then I get annoyed with myself and write. Writing can be very cathartic. If I’m really down, I go and have a cry on the shoulders of my critique partner: – and then I have wine!

Aside from writing (and reading!) what other hobbies do you have?

Strange ones…

Your favourite book?

Marika Cobbold’s, Guppies for Tea. It’s one that I read many years ago, loved and still remember. That was the book that made me think, I wish I could write like that.

Your favourite song? Learn to Love Again – Lawson (can you guess why?). http://youtu.be/irw3IbjP3vQ

Your favourite film? Ghost.

Your favourite colour? Yellow … or sky blue (Can I have two?)

 And last but not least, what’s coming next from Sheryl Browne?

 As is my wont, I have two works-in-progress on the go. However(!!), breaking news here: Safkhet Publishing have just accepted another of my books, a thriller, entitled The Edge of Sanity. As my genre up to now has been romance with humour, I wasn’t sure whether they would love it enough. They do! And I love Safkhet!

 And to whet your appetite further, here’s an excerpt from Learning to Love.

 ‘Jake?’ David knocked on his son’s door.

Would he answer this time? Probably not.

David reached for the handle, only to find the door yanked open by Ryan.

‘Hi. How’s it going?’ David smiled at the gangly teenager, who, far from being the bad influence David had worried he might be, seemed to be sprouting a halo along with some actual stubble—and who David reckoned deserved a medal for looking out for Jake.

‘Yeah, good. Just helping Jake sort some stuff out.’

‘Oh?’ David glanced past Ryan into the room, to where Jake sat cross-legged on the floor, no PlayStation control in sight, amazingly. ‘What stuff would that be then, Jake?’

David waited, but took his cue when Ryan motioned him on in.

‘Off to get some more Pepsi, mate,’ Ryan said diplomatically. ‘Want some?’

Jake nodded, but didn’t look up.

‘Back in ten.’ Ryan drooped out, skinny fit jeans still clinging to hips and looking every inch the typical allergic-to-anything-strenuous teenager, which belied his caring attitude. David owed the kid, that was for sure.

He owed Jake, too, big time.

David turned his attention back to his son, who was surrounded by a sea of photographs, he realised. Photographs of Michelle, from the albums in the spare room.

Cautiously, David walked across to stand by Jake’s side. Then, hands in pockets, he waited again, wondering what to say that could even begin to heal their relationship. What would he want to hear, if he were Jake?

Sorry perhaps? Wholly inadequate, David knew, but it might be a start.

He looked down at his son, whose head was bent in concentration of his endeavours.

He needed a haircut.

Needed a lot of things.

David closed his eyes as he noticed the bottle of perfume tucked in the corner of Jake’s Adidas shoebox.

Michelle’s perfume.

Because Jake wanted something to remind him of her.

‘Need any help, Jake?’ David asked softly.

Jake didn’t answer. That was okay. David didn’t really expect him to. He swallowed back a lump in his throat, then took a gamble, crouched down next to Jake—and silently waited.

Biding his time, he studied the photographs quietly alongside his son. ‘You’ve chosen all the good ones,’ he ventured.

Jake did respond then, somewhere between a nod and a shrug.

‘Not many fun ones though.’ David reached for a photograph. One he’d taken himself on what turned out to be their last time at the theme park together: Michelle, Jake in front of her on the log flume, both shrieking with laugher and soaked through to the skin.

Probably the last time she had laughed—with him.

David breathed in, hard. ‘I did make her sad, Jake,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t help much, but … I wish I hadn’t.’

Jake’s head dropped even lower.

‘She did laugh though, you know, Jake. With you.’

David placed the photograph carefully in the box. ‘Alton Towers,’ he said, ‘summer before last. She laughed so much she had to dash to the loo, remember?’

Jake dragged the back of his hand under his nose.

‘She couldn’t have been that happy without you, Jake. You gave her the gift of laugher. That’s something to be glad about. To be proud of.’

David stopped, his chest filling up as he watched a slow tear fall from his son’s face.

David hesitated, then rested a hand lightly on Jake’s shoulder.

Jake didn’t shrug him off.

‘You won her a stuffed toy that day, do you remember? What was it? A tiger?’

‘Tigger.’ Jake finally spoke.

‘That’s right,’ David said, his throat tight. ‘Tigger.’

‘She kept it in the car,’ Jake picked up in a small voice.

The car she never arrived at the hospital in, David realised, overwhelming guilt slicing through him. ‘She kept a whole family of furry friends in the car. I’m surprised there was room for her.’

Jake’s mouth twitched into a small smile. ‘She talked to them.’ He glanced up at David, his huge blue eyes glassy with tears.

‘That was the little girl inside her. The little girl you made laugh.’ David squeezed Jake’s shoulder.

He actually felt like whooping. Like punching the air. Like picking Jake up and hugging him so hard … He’d looked at him. Full on. No anger.

David closed his eyes, relief washing over him. ‘I have one of Mum’s stuffed toys,’ he said throatily. ‘One she kept. Not Tigger, but … Do you want me to fetch it?’

Jake nodded.

‘Right.’ David smiled. ‘Back in two.’ He dragged his forearm across his eyes as he headed for his own room. He had something else, too. Something he’d wanted to give Jake before, but somehow couldn’t.

The antique locket he’d bought Michelle for her thirtieth was in the bedside drawer. David collected it, ran his thumb over the engraved rose gold surface of it. If Jake needed something to remind him of his mother, this was it.

‘Bedtime Bear,’ David announced, joining Jake back on the floor. ‘Your very first toy.’ He handed his son the scruffy little white bear.

Jake laughed—and David really did feel like crying then.

‘I have something else for you, Jake.’ He passed him the locket. ‘It was very special to her,’ he said gently, as Jake’s eyes fell on the photograph of himself inside it. ‘She wore it right next to her heart. And that,’ he went on as Jake looked at the lock of hair on the opposite side of the locket, ‘is your hair and hers, entwined.’

Jake went very quiet.

‘Okay?’ David asked.

Jake nodded vigorously. ‘Okay,’ he said, around a sharp intake of breath.

David reached out, ran his hand through Jake’s unruly crop, and then allowed it to stray to his shoulder. He wanted very much to hold him, to reassure him. But Jake’s body language was tense. It would take time, David knew, but maybe someday, Jake would let him back in.

 Still not enough? Want to find out more? Here’s the links for Sheryl, Learning to Love and all her other (fabulous) books:

LINKS:

  Sheryl’s Website

  Safkhet Publishing

  Amazon.co.uk

  Amazon.com

Author Facebook      

Romantic Novelists’ Association

Sheryl is a Loveahappyending Lifestyle Author and Feature Editor.

Twitter: @sherylbrowne

Learning to Love

Exploring the Fragility of Love, Life, and Relationships

 Widower, Dr David Adams, has recently moved to the village – where no one knows him, ergo there’s no fuel for neighbourhood gossip – to start afresh with is ten year old son, if only he can get to a place where his son wants to speak to him. Angry and withdrawn, Jake blames his dad for the death of his mother, and David doesn’t know how to reach him.

Andrea Kelly has too many balls in the air. With three children and a “nuts” mother to care for, her fiancé can’t fathom why she wants to throw something else into the mix and change her career. Surely she already has too much on her plate? Because her plates are skew-whiff and her balls are dropping off all over the place, Andrea points out. She needs to make changes. Still her fiancé, who has a hidden agenda, is dead-set against it.

 

 

Monday Morning Hot Spot – it’s Sarah Belle!

The Monday Morning Hot Spot belongs to Sarah Belle, author of Hindsight, featuring the time-travelling Juliette! Hailing from Australia, Sarah started her professional life in the hospitality industry, working in some of the roughest hotels in Melbourne in the late Eighties, surrounded by drug dealers, prostitutes, pimps, and undercover police. Tiring of the inherent dangers of her working environment, Sarah completed a business degree and went on to work in the recruitment industry and the Department of Defence, where she met and married the man of her dreams: a dashing, Army Blackhawk pilot (swoon!). They have four young sons and live on the beautiful Queensland coast, where Sarah’s days are spent being a frazzled mum, writer, Bikram Yoga devotee and the only woman in a house of five males.

Here’s the cover of Hindsight, find out all about it and what inspired Sarah to write it. Also read an hilarious excerpt – pubic hair down to the ground? Told ya it was hilarious!

Tell us a little bit about Hindsight – I hear it features the swinging 60’s!

It sure does! Hindsight  is set in both the modern day and 1961 when the protagonist, Juliette, time travels after a collision with a bottle of Vodka and a marriage meltdown.

Juliette’s career is on fire, her marriage and family are in melt-down, and a red-hot goddess wants her husband. But those are the least of her worries when she wakes up on her lounge room floor in the year 1961.

Without any of her modern conveniences — nanny, housekeeper, surgically attached mobile phone, designer wardrobe, and intravenous lattes — Juliette is just over fifty years out of her comfort zone. But as she takes on the role of a 1961 housewife, with gritted liberated teeth, she discovers an unexpected truth: slower doesn’t mean boring, at home doesn’t mean dull, and priorities don’t mean sacrifices.

As she finds unexpected friendships, a resuscitated love life, tragedy and triumph, Juliette begins to wonder if she really wants to return home after all.

And your journey towards publication, was it a smooth or a rocky one?

It was sort of in between, I think! This is my first novel, so there was loads of learning involved, zillions of mistakes made and endless hours spent hunched over my laptop. I sent it to quite a few publishing houses before Escape Publishing accepted it – which was a very happy, if not surreal, day for me!

Who or what inspires you to write?

I just love writing and couldn’t imagine not being able to do it. It’s a great outlet as I had to give up full time work when I had baby number 4, and really missed the sense of accomplishment and social activity involved with working. Now I socialise with fictional characters and feel happy if I have managed to avoid all distractions and get some good chunks of writing done! Writing itself is my inspiration.

Location is very important for me in a novel, I love writing about places I know and, in turn, if a book is set in a place I love, I’m sold. How important is location to you?

Hindsight  is set in my gorgeous home town of Melbourne, Australia. I haven’t lived there for a number of years, but it holds so many memories and all of my family history. For that reason, it’s very special to me – my spiritual home perhaps. I love reading about other places (especially your gorgeous UK countryside) – it’s a way to travel without leaving home!

Do you outline your plot meticulously before writing or do you fly by the seat of your pants, allowing your characters to get your from A to B?

I am a plotter, definitely. I need to know the beginning, middle and end and what I need to achieve in each scene, otherwise I flail around too much.

Of all the characters you’ve created, who is your favourite and why?

I would have to say Gran Leticia in Hindsight.  She’s courageous, loving, protective and is the one everyone turns to in a time of crises. She lived in a tough time – both World Wars and the Depression, so I find her very inspiring. She’s based on my own Great Gran Leticia, so there’s an emotional bond too.

What’s a typical writing day like for you? Do you need coffee to survive?

I need Bikram Yoga to defragment my brain and English Breakfast tea to kick start it again! I write every day, even when there is a 4 year old sitting on my lap. Like most other writers, I write in my head as well. Consequently, my hubby gets a bit miffed when I don’t pay attention to him because some fictional character is demanding my time!

What advice do you have for people aspiring to be published? What would you have done differently?

My advice is keep going, no matter what. Write every day. Be committed to getting it finished, edited and polished. Don’t be afraid to ask for help and take every opportunity you get to learn the craft. Make friends with other writers, either in person or over social media, because no one will understand the hurdles you face better than another writer.

I wouldn’t have done anything differently – everything happened just the way it was meant to.

Self-doubt is the curse of every writer – ours is a subjective trade – what do you do when a case of the hee bee gee bees attacks?

To be honest, I don’t let myself get the hee bee gee bees. If I surrender to that kind of thinking, no matter if it is related to writing, cooking, mothering, or life in general, I will allow fear and doubt to rule. I can’t do that. I’m not a naturally confident person, I have to really work at it.  When I take my last breath, the only regret I want to have is not drinking more Champagne!

Aside from writing (and reading!) what other hobbies do you have?

I do lots of Bikram Yoga. With sons aged 4,6,8 and 10, there isn’t much time for anything else!

Your favourite book?

Ooooh, hard one. I’d say, The Help  by Kathryn Stockett.

Your favourite song?

Soul Sister by Train.

Your favourite film?

Steel Magnolias or Four Weddings and a Funeral.

Your favourite colour?

Purple.

And last but not least, what’s coming next from Sarah Belle?

I’ve got five more plots ready to go, but not enough hours in the day and too many distractions.  My next is about a woman who casts a spell that goes horribly wrong and she has to get her life back on track.

Sounds great Sarah, but first, an excerpt from Hindsight!

Setting the Scene: Juliette has just woken up in a hospital bed. She knows she has time travelled back to 1961 but is unaware that her cosmetic enhancements have not travelled back with her…

I find the toilet and remove the beige undies that clearly belong to someone’s grandmother. Pulling my undies down, a gasp of horror, followed by a scream thunders out of me.

Oh. My. God. As if the undies weren’t bad enough, I trip and stagger in the tiny bathroom, trying to outrun the small, furry creature that has crawled onto my lap and decided to live there. But there’s no escaping because it’s part of me, a bikini line gone wild. This garden hasn’t been tended to since the onset of puberty. I haven’t seen that amount of pubic hair since…ever.

“Mrs Taylor?” The nurse knocks on the door. “We heard a scream, are you alright?”

No, definitely not! Holy mother of God! There’s so much pubic hair that it could be braided into dreadlocks. I could shear it like a sheep and make a jumper out of it. Where’s my lovely, neat, clean Brazilian?

“Mrs Taylor? Mrs Taylor, are you alright dear?”

“Umm… yes, thanks. I just…um…tripped.”

“You tripped? On what?”

On my pubic hair, which is almost touching the ground. “Just on a…a…thing. Everything’s fine, thank you.”

 “Mrs Taylor?” the nurse asks again from the other side of the door.

My eyes are glued to the image before me. They’re not even capable of blinking. Oh. My. God. There’s a mop of mousy brown hair that has not been cut, styled or highlighted. Mousy brown! My eyebrows are not professionally shaped, my skin is not glowing or rejuvenated and my lips are decidedly less pouty than normal.

“Mrs Taylor?” She is more insistent this time.

“Yes, all good thanks, Nurse. I just…umm…” Saw myself in the mirror without all my chemical and cosmetic enhancements and was horrified at my own plainness. My eyes and labourer’s hands explore my face, looking at all the little wrinkles, the blackish bags under my eyes, the open pores of my cheeks and forehead, the thinness of my lips in comparison to the real me, the few blackheads on my chin as well as the grayness of my skin, I feel the beginnings of depression take over.

Oh no! Please no! Not the girls! As I open my top, my eyes are greeted by the sight of two size-seven feet on the cold lino floor. There’s nothing in-between the two most polar points of my body. Out of gasps and screams, nothing escapes other than a small, pathetic whine. They’re gone, my perfect D-cup breasts are gone. My pride and joys, the things that stop me dead in my tracks every time I walk past a mirror naked. My beautiful, perfectly shaped, nubile, pert breasts are gone. Chris wasn’t in favour of my boob job originally, but he soon changed his mind when he saw them; this kind of fakeness he doesn’t mind at all. Hypocrite. But they are gone and in their place are my real breasts, which look like the ears of a golden retriever, only hairless.

Want to find out more about Sarah or buy the book? Here’s the links:

Facebook   https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sarah-Belle-Author/181235018692696?ref=hl

Twitter link   https://twitter.com/SarahBelle44

Website : http://www.lovesarahbelle.com/

Blog:  http://www.sarahbelle.me/

Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/Sarah-Belle44

Buy Link (publisher):  http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990587

 

 

The Runaway Year – the last word from Joseph

My first novel, The Runaway Year is told from three points of view: Layla (the main heroine) and her best friends Pennie and Hannah. HOWEVER – dun dun na – originally we had some chapters from the hero du jour, Joseph as well as the villain of the piece, Alex – 4 in total, 2 from each of them. During the editing process with Omnific Publishing it was decided to cut the male scenes in order to make the book more ‘streamlined’. I was reluctant to do so at first (especially as all my beta-readers beforehand protested against the decision too) but eventually conceded. Although I think in the end their decision was the right one, I’m still fond of the deleted chapters and thought I’d include them on my blog for anyone who wants to read them. I won’t include them all at once (even thought they’re quite short), I’ll put each one up for a few days or so. Be interesting to see what you think …

Joseph is the last of the male characters to speak in the original Chapter 26. This scene takes place after the storm of Chapter 25. Layla suffers from brontophobia and so, in her panic, calls Joseph to come over in the dead of night as thunder crashes overhead and lightening strikes. The two have barely spoken for months but alone together again, find their attraction to each other as strong as ever. One thing leads to another but Joseph puts a halt to it, after all, he has a girlfriend and Layla is back with Alex. This is what’s in his head after he has left her.

Chapter 26

Instead of going home straightaway as he’d intended, Joseph walked down to the beach, needing more time to think. Now that the storm had passed, the night was quiet; even the wind had died down, leaving nothing but a gentle breeze to caress his cheek every now and then.

Staring out at the sea, which shimmered where the moonlight touched it, he shivered from the cold October air. Gull Rock was barely visible. A black shape in an even blacker night. Winter was coming round fast, too fast; it meant she’d be leaving soon unless there was something he could do to stop her. But what?

Hunkering down on the sand, he wondered again why Layla had kissed him tonight. She had made it crystal clear in the past she didn’t want him, not in that way. So why kiss him again? Why now, when he was beginning to accept it? Had even got himself a girlfriend. Why stir things up?

Jesus, she’s getting married, he thought in despair. Well, that balding twit had asked her to marry him anyway and she was contemplating it. She said she had no choice. He wasn’t a man given to religion, but at this moment Joseph prayed to whatever God was out there to make sure that she could see that she did. But was he, a humble carpenter, much of a choice? Not compared to Alex Kline with his brand-new Mercedes Benz (which had to be worth at least fifty grand) and his Platinum Rolex watch. He couldn’t compete with that, didn’t want to compete with that. He was happy with his lot – well he had been until recently.

Could there ever be a future for him and Layla? He doubted it. If she could love a bloke like Alex it was because she wanted certain things, a certain lifestyle. Funny though, because she didn’t seem that sort. She seemed like him, simple at heart, able to see beauty in the landscape that surrounded them, in the ocean, the moor, the villages lost in time. But as much as he knew she loved it here, Trecastle had only ever been a holiday destination to her. Although she’d been here for some time now, a holiday was all it would ever be, albeit an extended one with a bit of pub work thrown in. At the back of her mind, she must have always known she’d be going home, to another world; to Alex’s world. Where she had come from and where she belonged. The thought twisted his heart.

Strolling along, hands in his jean pockets, hunched against the cold, he supposed it was karma, the way he was feeling. His inability to love Hannah the way she had wanted him to coming back to bite him on the bum.

He still felt bad about Hannah. Bringing Clare along to that barbeque was a risky decision, one that had backfired on all fronts. He’d hated seeing Hannah so upset, drinking heavily to numb her pain. He had tried to love her, really he had, month after month, and he did, but as a friend, nothing more. He had had to admit that in the end, despite knowing how much it would hurt her. And then there was Jim, smitten with Hannah right from the start. An awkward situation all-round.

What if, just if, Layla chose him over Alex, how would Hannah feel? Layla was her best friend. He’d hate to come between them. He’d only remained such good friends with Jim because Jim was uncommonly laid-back. Not only that, he was generous in spirit was Jim. He’d forgive anyone, anything. When he’d told Layla earlier that his mate was one of the best, he had meant it. There was none better. He wished Hannah could see that too, transfer her affections entirely and in doing so, set him free.

Finally, he accepted it was too cold to stay outdoors any longer; the thin T-shirt he had pulled on quickly after Layla’s distressed phone call was no barrier against the cold. He started for home, hoping that Clare was sound asleep, that he could crawl into bed beside her; pretend he’d been there all along.

He liked Clare, he really did. When they started going out together, he had hoped she’d take his mind off Layla. She hadn’t though, not one bit. But she was sweet enough; he couldn’t deny it. Although how much longer he could stand her sexual antics he wasn’t sure. She was getting kinkier by the minute. He blamed the book she was reading, ‘Fifty Shades’ was it? Every time she started reciting large chunks from it, quite colourful chunks to say the least, he knew he was in trouble. She always wanted to put into practice what she was reading, even bringing along a couple of her uncle’s ties once so he could tether her to the bed. The fact that they were her uncle’s ties, ties he had actually seen her uncle wearing, had put him off big time. How he managed to perform that night, he’d never know.

Standing outside his cottage as the sun began to rise; the sea birds singing a raucous rendition of the dawn chorus, he looked achingly next door. She must feel something for him, surely? That night they had spent together she had wanted him as much as he had wanted her. And tonight, where would that kiss have led if he hadn’t stopped it? Perhaps he should have let it run its natural course. But no, he had had to stop it; Clare didn’t deserve that.

Damning Alex to hell, the obstacle that had always stood between them, he let himself in as quietly as possible and tiptoed up the stairs.

The Runaway Year – Alex Strikes Again

My first novel, The Runaway Year is told from three points of view: Layla (the main heroine) and her best friends Pennie and Hannah. HOWEVER – dun dun na – originally we had some chapters from the hero du jour, Joseph as well as the villain of the piece, Alex – 4 in total, 2 from each of them. During the editing process with Omnific Publishing it was decided to cut the male scenes in order to make the book more ‘streamlined’. I was reluctant to do so at first (especially as all my beta-readers beforehand protested against the decision too) but eventually conceded. Although I think in the end their decision was the right one, I’m still fond of the deleted chapters and thought I’d include them on my blog for anyone who wants to read them. I won’t include them all at once (even thought they’re quite short), I’ll put each one up for a few days or so. Be interesting to see what you think …

In the original Chapter 18, it was time to get into Alex’s head again.  He has finally tracked down Layla (it’s only taken six months) – but the spur behind doing so has more to do with her saving his company than anything else. However, he does realise he’s not as young as he used to be and a brood mare might well come in handy … ! Having gone to her house first, he goes to the Trecastle Inn where he know’s she’ll be working. They have already spoken but, as she needs to finish her shift, he has ordered himself a pint and is lying in wait for her.

Chapter 18

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her skin golden from the sun, her hair softer somehow, not as styled. She seemed to glow like a firefly in the darkened confines of the bar, a bar that was not quite up to his usual standards, but served a decent pint nonetheless.

It couldn’t be called sophisticated in here though, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was quite old-fashioned with wood-panelled walls adorned with pictures of knights and their ladies, really quite crude in execution, and a traditional spit and sawdust floor. The table and chairs were almost gothic in style and, totally at odds with the decor, a jukebox stood against a central pillar, blaring out some tinny tune. It wasn’t a place he could ever have imagined her working in, she must hate it. He hoped so.  It would make his life one hell of a lot easier if she did.

Thank God he’d found her though. It had taken awhile but finally his secretary Louisa had made contact with Angelica in Milan, not Florence or Rome as he’d initially thought. Note to self: listen more carefully to Layla in future, instead of allowing three quarters of your brain to focus on other matters not to mention other women. Angelica had fallen straightaway for the ruse; happily handing over her daughter’s forwarding address whilst mentioning her new job revolved around the local pub, a golden nugget of information. After going first to the cottage and getting no response, he knew exactly where she’d be.

Layla had been flustered to see him, he had expected that. Actually, he had expected a bit more than that. A light swoon perhaps or tears of relief that she’d been rescued. She must be bored to death here. It was pretty enough if you liked pretty enough villages but hardly one you’d want to settle in. It looked lively in summer, but in the winter it must be dire. Once he put forward his proposals, she’d be putty in his hands. Her biological clock must be ticking; she wasn’t far off 30. If she wanted kids and he didn’t actually know if she did, he had never asked her, she’d need to get a move on.

His first task, however, would be to sort out the FarScapes mess she’d got him into, but he would be careful how he approached the subject. He’d gone in all guns blazing with Penny and that had got him precisely nowhere. No, wooing would have to come first. Get her back on-side. Hopefully that wouldn’t take too long. And then he’d mention the email and what she was going to do about it. He would make her see that buttering up to Jack Thomas was to their mutual benefit, he’d be able to see his company’s profits soaring instead of falling and she’d get a promotion. That Marketing Manager of his, Hazel Smith, she was not good for morale, she treated lesser members of staff like shit. You had to play the game, get your money’s worth from people, and she didn’t. It didn’t take much, a word of encouragement here, a nod of approval there, just enough to make them want to do their utmost for you. She’d have to go in the second wave of redundancies, Layla could take her place. Sarah-Jane had gone in the first wave; Layla would be pleased about that. Managing experience would be good for Layla too, at least until their first born put in an appearance.

Whatever, it would all work out, now he had found her. That was the biggest hurdle surmounted. She was the key to everything. Meanwhile, he would wait patiently until she finished playing barmaid. Although, he had to admit she was good at it. Friendly and courteous, dealing swiftly and effectively with punter after punter. A dream employee.

Mick was coming back with another pint for them. The other two, Jim and that blonde chap, hadn’t been overfriendly. After muttering hello they’d buggered off, typical yokels. Mick was great though, with a love of the sea and everything in it. He shared Mick’s passion but there hadn’t been much time to mess about on his boat lately, moored at Brighton Marina. Costing him an arm and a leg, it was christened Molly McGuire but in his head he called it The Love Boat after that 70’s TV series he used to love as a kid. Belonged to an Irish guy before him, hence the Molly name, he’d have to get that changed though, when he could concentrate on more frivolous pursuits. Layla hated sailing, she suffered from motion sickness, which, come to think about it, could prove very handy indeed. Having a ‘Layla-free’ zone would mean he’d still have a place to ‘entertain’ if he wanted to. Not that he did want to at the moment of course, ‘entertain’ that is, but it never hurt to keep your options open.

Mick had seated himself in front of him, a wide open smile on that ruddy, open countenance of his. He’d rather be with Layla right now but talking to Mick wasn’t a hardship. He was entertaining enough. Maybe he could wrangle a trip on that boat of his at some point, head out into the Atlantic for a spot of deep sea fishing, he quite fancied that.

After clinking pint glasses, Alex glanced over at Layla again, she looked young, strong and highly capable. Perfect breeding material he thought happily.

The Runaway Year – Alex’s Turn!

My first novel, The Runaway Year is told from three points of view: Layla (the main heroine) and her best friends Pennie and Hannah. HOWEVER – dun dun na – originally we had some chapters from the hero du jour, Joseph as well as the villain of the piece, Alex – 4 in total, 2 from each of them. During the editing process with Omnific Publishing it was decided to cut the male scenes in order to make the book more ‘streamlined’. I was reluctant to do so at first (especially as all my beta-readers beforehand protested against the decision too) but eventually conceded. Although I think in the end their decision was the right one, I’m still fond of the deleted chapters and thought I’d include them on my blog for anyone who wants to read them. I won’t include them all at once (even thought they’re quite short), I’ll put each one up for a few days or so. Be interesting to see what you think …

Okay, it’s time to get into Alex’s head now! This is the original Chapter 12.  Alex has returned from Florida with Sarah Jane to find that Layla, furious that he has betrayed her, has not only left him but also potentially sabotaged his company’s future. It’s taken a while but finally it registers it may be a good idea to find her – not only because she’s the one that can save his company but also because he actually quite misses her – the latter a feeling he’s not overly familiar with!

Chapter 12

Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Sussex Square flat, Alex sipped absentmindedly at a generous measure of single malt whisky, Talisker, his favourite, whilst gazing at the bright lights of the marina in the distance.

He was tired, really tired. It had been ages since he’d had a good night’s sleep, the twin issues of Easy Travel and Layla constantly playing on his mind, taking it in turns to plague him.

Why the hell had she written that email? Okay, she was pissed off; he understood that, she had every right to be. But to try and bring his company down and everyone in it, that was taking things too far. He had no idea she could be so malicious. She’d never come across that way.

He should have left Sarah-Jane well alone. She hadn’t been worth the effort. Not at all. She might be young, she might be pretty, but she was dull as ditchwater once the initial attraction had worn off. Which it had, halfway through their first week in Florida. Her topics of conversation had been inane to say the least, centring round the latest boy band and what was in fashion and what wasn’t. Like he cared. At least with Layla he could hold a decent conversation. As well as being intelligent, she was funny and fiery too, bloody fiery considering what she’d done to him. If she had kicked him in the balls with steel toe capped boots it couldn’t have hurt more.

Moving away from the window, he padded over to his desk in sock-clad feet, cashmere of course, to sit at his computer. Looking at his sales figures, a permanent fixture on his laptop screen, he groaned, they were still down. Thanks to the recession most people were choosing to staycation instead of vacation, perhaps he ought to look into that market instead.

Jack wouldn’t even talk to him anymore, blocked his calls. So, you think we’re a bunch of losers do you? he had shouted down the phone at him upon his return from Florida. Alex had been expecting to discuss the agenda for their next meeting; instead he had had to listen whilst Jack went off on one. Confused, he had finally managed to extract from him something about an email. Confused further, he had quickly scrolled through a list of recently sent emails and that’s when he had found it, the email Layla had written, telling Jack Thomas that Easy Travel were no longer interested in the merger and to basically sod off.

There was no doubt Layla had written it. The Post-It note she had left on his desk alongside that bloody bracelet he had given her at Christmas proved it. But it would be okay, he reminded himself before his blood pressure shot up once again, everything would be okay, once he found her, once she explained to Jack she had been its author, not him. Regarding why she had written it, well, they’d have to make up some cock and bull story about that. The truth would not impress Jack; he was straighter than one of Robin Hood’s arrows.

Jack liked Layla. Certainly he preferred to deal with her rather than him, which was a flaming cheek considering he was the Managing Director! When they’d been in meetings together, Jack focussed his attention almost entirely on Layla, nodding enthusiastically at every word she uttered. It annoyed him, especially as Jack was never so enthusiastic about anything he said. If anyone could talk him round, Layla could; she could use his penchant for her to their advantage.

That encounter with Penny was playing on his mind too, Layla’s supposed best friend, it had been nothing short of depressing. She had looked at him as though he were something the cat had dragged in and then taken back out again in disgust. She was a hard nut to crack that one. He wasn’t used to such treatment from the fairer sex. God knows why he had ever bothered to make a pass at her.

Letting out a long sigh, he sat back in his chair. Everything seemed to be unravelling around him, his company, his love life, everything. He had never felt so low. It didn’t help he actually missed Layla, not just now and again, he could cope with that, but for quite a large proportion of every day. Up until now he’d never felt strongly about any girlfriend, had liked quite a few of them, certainly, but it was quantity not quality that concerned him. His almost insatiable appetite had been kick-started at 16 by his best friend’s mother, Kate. Hot as hell she was, 35 or thereabouts with hair the colour of a fire engine and tattoos. She had taught him a lot, had Kate, some of it barely legal, given him a taste for older women, a taste which had gone the opposite way in later years. Nowadays, he preferred not to go over the 30 mark.

Commitment was something he didn’t do. It wasn’t natural; being tied to one woman for years on end, not when the world held so much variety. But lately he was starting to think differently. He wasn’t getting any younger, he was realistic enough to know that, and, if he were going to produce a son and heir he needed to do so sooner rather than later or the kid would grow up thinking he was granddad instead of dad. Layla was perfect mother material, the right age and good looking with it, their mutual genes sure to create half decent offspring. Of all the women he knew, she was the only one he could remotely envisage starting a family with, shame he hadn’t realised that before he dumped her.

If only he knew where she’d gone. To leave like that, her job, her flat, her hometown, it was extreme to say the least. And all because of him. Looking on the plus side, at least it showed what an impact he had made.

If he had broken her heart though, he was sorry; he’d make it up to her. Riding in like a knight in shining armour, well in a shiny new black Mercedes anyway, scooping her up and bringing her back to Brighton, to live with him. She loved his flat, had been wowed by it. She’d enjoy living here. They could always upgrade to a house later, after their son had been born. He’d have to find her first though, which was proving more taxing than he thought. He had left her a message on Facebook but she hadn’t replied. In fact, she hadn’t been on Facebook since she left Brighton. She could be anywhere. Outer Mongolia for all he knew.

The final gulp of whisky not only burned his throat; it put fire in his belly too, lifting him out of the despondency he had so recently fallen into. It didn’t matter where she was, Outer Mongolia or the moon, he’d find her. He was determined. You didn’t get as far as he did in life without a healthy dose of determination. And when he did, she’d save his company as well as him – a double whammy – he liked that.

Her mother he thought, an idea forming, she might be able to help me, what did Layla say her name was? Angelica, that was it, Angelica Lewis. She lived in Italy somewhere, Rome or Florence if he remembered correctly. Layla may even be living with her although he doubted it, he got the impression mother and daughter were somewhat estranged. Still, Angelica should be easy enough to trace, at least he knew which country she resided in, which was a start. He’d get his secretary to start investigating first thing in the morning. Once he had her contact number, his secretary could call her, say it was a work issue or something; some back pay that needed forwarding to her daughter’s new address.

Closing down the sales figures at last – he was sick of staring at them, expecting them to change miraculously before his eyes – he decided to zone out in front of the TV instead. If he were lucky, it might even put him to sleep. And he did feel luckier, now he had hit on the Angelica plan. Why the hell hadn’t he thought of it before? Too het up about Easy Travel to think straight he supposed. No matter though, through Angelica he would find Layla and when he did, she’d fall back into his arms. They always did.

The Runaway Year – from the Male POV!

My first novel, The Runaway Year is told from three points of view: Layla (the main heroine) and her best friends Pennie and Hannah. HOWEVER – dun dun na – originally we had some chapters from the hero du jour, Joseph as well as the villain of the piece, Alex – 4 in total, 2 from each of them. During the editing process with Omnific Publishing it was decided to cut the male scenes in order to make the book more ‘streamlined’. I was reluctant to do so at first (especially as all my beta-readers beforehand protested against the decision too) but eventually conceded. Although I think in the end their decision was the right one, I’m still fond of the deleted chapters and thought I’d include them on my blog for anyone who wants to read them. I won’t include them all at once (even thought they’re quite short), I’ll put each one up for a few days or so. Be interesting to see what you think …

Here’s the first – Chapter 7 – which takes place just after Layla and Joseph’s first ‘proper’ meeting at the pub. Earlier that day, she had knocked him off his motorbike whilst trying to locate her new home in Trecastle.

Chapter 7 – Joseph

What a day! thought Joseph, as he made his way back to his own cottage.

It had started off like any other. He had got up early and, despite the fact it was Saturday, taken himself off to work. He had oak window frames to make for Rob Yeates, something of a big noise around here, eighteen of them to be precise and the deadline, as usual, was tight.

Around three thirty he had popped home for a quick shower, had a bite to eat and then headed back to his workshop in the high street to carry on with the frames.  En route he had bumped into Layla; well crashed into her more like. An impressive introduction when he thought about it.

Throwing his keys onto the kitchen table, he filled the kettle and flicked the switch, standing idly by as he waited for it to boil. Despite playing it down earlier, he did feel a bit the worse for wear in places, down his right side mainly, but he’d be okay, he’d soak in a hot bath before bed, that should ease things up a bit. And the bike had taken quite a battering too, but that didn’t matter either. It was nothing more than a toy, something he threw around the lanes every now and then for a bit of fun. His main transport was a Land Rover Defender; currently in residence at Dave’s, the local mechanic, having some bits and pieces seen to. Both vehicles had seen better days and, as far as his Land Rover was concerned, he ought to get himself a newer model; it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it. Work was thriving. It was just that here, material things seemed so much less important than they did in London. And the car was reliable enough, only reluctant to start on the coldest of mornings.

Sipping his coffee, strong and black with just half a teaspoon of sugar, he thought how strange it was that living in another part of the country could change you so much. When he was living in London, whatever he’d had had never seemed enough. Like so many of his friends he’d always wanted bigger, better and more. Down here, he didn’t even own a TV, let alone the latest LED-LCD HD TV with 3D Kit and Blu-Ray Player, but somehow he was more content because of it.

He had wondered what he was playing at though when he first arrived to sleep on Jim’s sofa. No stranger to Cornwall, it had still felt alien to him, as though he’d landed on another planet entirely. But he’d grown used to it. He had a sofa of his own now, just as comfortable as Jim’s, in a cottage of his own. He couldn’t imagine living in London again. He’d been back a couple of times since of course, to visit friends, and found its neon energy jarring. The friends too after a while. No, Trecastle was home now and would remain so for the foreseeable future. Even if it was wall to wall with wannabe rock stars, new age artists and surf dudes, he thought affectionately.

Standing up to stretch, he grimaced at the soreness in his limbs and then gingerly made his way upstairs. Entering the bathroom, he turned on the hot tap, intending to put a splash of cold in later. As he started to peel off layers, his mind once again returned to Layla. How pretty she was with her long dark hair, wavy not straight, the way he preferred it. Her eyes were beautiful too, a lovely clear green with yellow flecks, unusual. Perhaps that’s why he’d been so captivated by them, just now, outside her front door.

Smiling to himself, he wondered what that was all about, the two of them, standing there; staring at each other for what had seemed an age. That had never happened to him before, that ‘staring’ thing, not even with Tara. It wouldn’t do to take it too seriously though. Not at all. She had made it perfectly clear she was off men at the moment and that was fine by him. He wasn’t looking for anyone either. He was happy on his own. It would be awkward hooking up with someone in the village anyway, he tried to avoid that now at all costs. Life was simple at last and that’s how he wanted to keep it.

Lowering himself into the bath and thinking he should have added a bit more cold before doing so, he sincerely hoped he could be friends with Layla however. She was funny, she made him laugh. She also seemed quite sorrowful. Something to do with an ex-boyfriend, Jim had told him earlier in the week. That’s why she was down here.

Breathing a sigh of relief as the water soothed his aches and pains; he couldn’t help thinking what a coincidence it was that her move to Trecastle, like his, had been prompted by a broken relationship. He hoped she wouldn’t stay broken for long though and that whatever she was looking for, she’d find it here.

.

Cover Reveal – Stained by Elizabeth Marx

Instead of a lot of build-up in a huge post, Elizabeth’s publicist thought that it would be best to let the front and back covers do the talking for themselves.

Back Cover:

Front Cover:

All together now!

Stained is due out on August 20th. It tells the beautiful, yet heart-wrenching story of a young woman whose only defense is to run when the going gets tough; and the man who will do anything to help her face her demons, including letting her go so she can find herself.

Add Stained to your GOODREADS want to read list!

About the Author: Windy City writer, Elizabeth Marx, brings cosmopolitan life alive in her fiction—a blend of romance, fast-paced Chicago living, and a sprinkle of magical realism. Elizabeth resides with her husband, girls, and two cats who’ve spelled everyone into believing they’re really dogs. She grew up in the city, has traveled extensively, and still says there’s no town like Chi-Town.

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Author Interview – Zanna Mackenzie

This week I’m welcoming the lovely Zanna Mackenzie onto my blog. A very talented writer, she has two books currently on release at the moment with more to come in the pipeline. Take it away Zanna … !

Congratulations! You’ve had 2 books published in 2013. Tell me about each of them.

The Love Programme, published by Astraea Press, is a contemporary romance set in Scotland:

Thanks to an embarrassing incident involving a wedding and her ex-boyfriend Marcus, Lucy has to leave her home town in a hurry and needs a place to escape to for a while.

Best friend Fiona is convinced now would be a good time for Lucy to get herself a new life with some potential for romance thrown in. Fate seems to agree when Lucy is given the once-in-a-lifetime chance to star in a TV show and be a contestant on The Love Programme – two weeks of luxury living on a grand Highland estate coupled with, she hopes, fun and romance in wildest Scotland.

When Lucy meets Paul – the young, handsome owner of the Highland estate – she thinks she may have found the love of her life but who is the mysterious Hannah and what part does she play in his life? When she discovers that Marcus is planning to follow her to Scotland to win her back Lucy has some serious soul searching to do. Does she have a future with Paul, with Marcus or is she yet to find the man of her dreams?

How Do You Spell Love? published by Crooked Cat, is a contemporary romantic comedy drama:

Make A Wish…

Kat can’t help wishing there was more to life than this. What happened to her dream job? What happened with Nathan?

Summer is wondering where her life is going too… battling the developers of a controversial housing estate and working out why boyfriend Rob is increasingly distant.

When the developers win the battle and move into town everyone’s life is turned upside down.

Kat meets building site project manager Alex. She enjoys his company far too much, even though he’s on the town’s most hated list.

Summer meets Tom who has plenty of relationship troubles of his own, so things could get really complicated.

Soon everyone is keeping secrets, lives change and hearts are broken. Is everything falling apart, or does life just work in mysterious ways…

When did the book-writing bug hit?

I think I’ve always had it! I remember making my own books when I was probably about eight years old. I got lots of blank paper, folded and stapled them together to make a book and then wrote stories in them. I was a strange child…..!!

And your journey towards publication, was it a smooth or a rocky one?

I’m amazed to say it was a fairly smooth one. I wrote three novels over three years and put them through various professional manuscript services and learnt loads from that process. I edited the books but then lost confidence and didn’t actually send them out to agents or publishers for consideration until my husband encouraged me to send two of the novels to different publishers in August 2012. Within a month I’d been offered a contract for The Love Programme with Astraea Press and a contract for How Do You Spell Love from Crooked Cat. I was totally stunned – in fact, I still can’t believe it!

Who or what inspires you to write?

Anything and everything – ideas just appear randomly in my head, they might come from a character in my current work in progress or sometimes they’re sparked by a snippet of conversation, something on TV, a book or magazine I’ve read.

Location is very important for me in a novel, I love writing about places I know and, in turn, if a book is set in a place I love, I’m sold. How important is location to you?

Location is very important to me too. I’ve written four books in total and they have all been set in my favourite places in the UK – Lake District, Scottish Highlands, Yorkshire Moors & Coast and Derbyshire’s Peak District. I’m not a city person so my books tend to have rural settings.

Do you outline your plot meticulously before writing or do you fly by the seat of your pants, allowing your characters to be in the driving seat?

I start off by planning but, strange as it sounds, the characters usually take the plot off in totally different directions and the book ends up quite different to how I had originally planned it.

Of all the characters you’ve created, who is your favourite and why?

Of my two published novels then I’d say it’s probably Lucy in The Love Programme, I think there’s quite of lot of ‘me’ in her character.  If I can include unpublished characters then I’d also say Zane, the lead male character in the book I’ve just finished writing – he’s a total sweetheart!

What’s a typical writing day like for you? Do you need coffee to survive?

I don’t have a typical writing day. I’m self-employed and work from home in my day job as an editor, writer and proof reader for the business publications of a chamber of commerce so that job pays the bills and has to take priority. Once the day job is sorted I then do social media and book promotion bits and pieces and blog stuff, and then writing and editing on my work in progress novel. I try to make Fridays a complete writing day as often as possible but if I have proofing deadlines for the day job then that has to come first and I’ll probably end up doing some writing in the evenings or weekends instead.

As someone who scored a double whammy, any advice for people aspiring to be published? Is there anything you would have done differently?

Have courage! I honestly don’t think I would be a published author if my husband hadn’t nagged me to send my work to publishers. So I’d say put aside all your doubts, insecurities and negative thinking and either just start sending your work out for consideration or get yourself self-published.

Self-doubt is the curse of every writer – ours is a subjective trade – what do you do when a case of the hee bee gee bees attacks?

Mmm… tricky question. I used to talk myself out of doing things. Now I try to do something positive to turn my thinking around.

Aside from writing (and reading!) what other hobbies do you have?

Gardening and walking.

Your favourite book?

Ohhh…. This varies depending on which books I’ve read recently. I don’t think I could pick an absolute favourite but of the books I’ve read in the last six months or so I’d say Martina Reilly’s Even Better Than The Real Thing, Roisin Meaney’s One Summer and Paige Toon’s Pictures of Lily.

Your favourite song?

This varies depending on what my favourite album of the moment is! It would probably be between Ho Hey by The Lumineers, Bedshaped by Keane and One Day Like This by Elbow. Oh, and probably Paradise by Coldplay as well…

Your favourite film?

The Adjustment Bureau with Emily Blunt and Matt Damon. If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend it. It’s a combination of comedy, romance and quirky thriller with a very unusual plot.

Your favourite colour?

A deep purple/pink.

And last but not least, what’s coming next from Zanna Mackenzie?

More books published I hope!  A novella prequel to The Love Programme is soon to be published as an ebook by my publisher Astraea Press. I’m doing edits on my book 4 manuscript ready to try that with a publisher and also revamping the first book I ever wrote with a view to trying that with a publisher too. I have my fingers crossed…

Want to find out more about Zanna – here’s the links …

www.zannamackenzie.blogspot.co.uk

www.zannamackenzie.co.uk

Twitter: @ZannaMacKenzie

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/zanna. mackenzie

Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/10703273-zanna-mackenzie

Amazon Author Page – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Zanna-Mackenzie/e/B00BKY1A18/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

And if you want to buy the book(s) – here’s the links for that too …

Main buy links for book:

*Crooked Cat Publishing

http://www.crookedcatbooks.com/

*Amazon UK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/How-Do-You-Spell-Love/dp/1908910771/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1361800360&sr=8-2

*Amazon USA

http://www.amazon.com/How-Do-You-Spell-Love/dp/1908910771/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1361800417&sr=1-3&keywords=zanna+mackenzie