Sarah Belle's Blog, page 8
September 8, 2013
Author Limelight: Romance Author, Emma Bennet…
Hello Emma and welcome to Author’s Limelight! Congratulations on the recent release of The Green Hills of Home .
What was the first story you ever wrote?
I absolutely loved Enid Blyton stories when I was younger, and used to write many Famous Five type adventures, but without the ginger beer, my characters drank apple juice instead.
Of all the individuals you have created, do you have a particular favourite? What appeals to you the most about this character?
Bronwyn, the owner of the tearooms in my debut novel ‘The Green Hills of Home’, is a minor character, but she’s definitely my favourite! She’s very kind, but very, very nosy, and will never take ‘No’ for an answer!
Has being published changed you at all? If so, how?
Hearing that people are enjoying my book has given me a lot more confidence in what I do. I love writing romance because it brings a smile to readers’ faces, there’s nothing quite like a wonderfully happy ending.
What would we find on your bookshelf / e-reader?
We have an extensive library, and I like to read from my genres. I usually have at least two books on the go – a non-fiction, probably historical, and then maybe a romance or some chick lit. I also like to read the ‘classics’, especially Jane Austen, when I can!
What’s the most unappealing thing you’ve ever eaten?
I was a notoriously fussy eater as a child, and basically lived on marmite sandwiches until I was eight, so as an adult I do try to be more experimental with food. However, to me raw fish is extremely unappealing! I’ve tried and tried, but frankly it’s just slippery and weird!
If you could be any of the following characters for one day, who would you be and why? How would you re-write the ending?
a) Scarlett O’Hara
from Gone with the Wind.
b) Thelma or Louise from Thelma and Louise.
c) Princess Leia from Starwars.
d) Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffanys.
I think I’d have to chose Holly Golightly – she’s just so glamorous! I adore the ending of the film, but I’d love for Holly to realise that she’s capable of more than just being pretty and hanging off the arm of an adoring man. Maybe she could take up designing little black dresses for swanky Manhattan ladies! In fact, I’ve named my Maine Coon cat after her!
Of all the books in history, which do you wish you wrote and why?
Probably something by Jane Austen – she’s made such an impact in the literary world, and her writing is extraordinarily clever and witty.
If you could have a superpower, what would it be and why?
Oh, definitely the power to stop time! I could write whenever I want then and still have time to do everything else that needs doing!
If you could go back in time, where would you go and when? What is one thing you would want to take with you?
Maybe stay in Britain, but travel to the Regency period – the costumes from that era are amazing, and I love the mores and manners from the time.
What would I take with me? A well stocked first aid kit, with as many modern medicines as I could fit in it!
Can you tell us about your works in progress?
I’ve got two projects on the go, a collection of slightly more serious articles, and my next romance novel, which should be out later this year and is called ‘The Spaniard’s Secret Daughter’. Exploring the themes of jealousy and trust, the story follows Iris, a withdrawn and doubting single mother, who keeps her child concealed from its father, Sergio. However, during a completely chance meeting, Sergio discovers he has a daughter, and is furious with Iris for hiding this from him. As they both struggle to work together in raising their little girl, old passions become re-ignited, but, after what’s gone on in their past, can they ever really trust each other?
Finally, can you give us a sneaky excerpt from The Green Hills of Home, please?
I’d be delighted to! This extract is one of my absolute favourite parts of the novel: my hero and heroine’s first meeting:
‘Gwen looked up and locked eyes with the man. She was so taken aback by the intensity of his gaze that it took her a moment to gather her wits enough to murmur “So sorry.”
“It’s fine,” replied the man as he passed her the purse that had fallen out of her bag.
Gwen took the brief opportunity to examine him further: he was tall, certainly over six foot, with a strong physical presence projecting an aura of masculinity. He was dressed in a suit, but his jacket was open and Gwen could tell through his shirt that the body underneath was used to exercise. She took in his dark hair and was drawn back down to his deep chocolate brown eyes, the sort that Gwen could easily lose herself in given half a chance.
His inviting eyes seemed to be evaluating her with similar awareness. Returning to the moment with a start, Gwen felt a little embarrassed by her brazen scrutiny of the stranger, but warmed by his reciprocal appraisal.
Gwen smiled at him shyly but, as suddenly as it had formed, the spell broke. He stood up and straightened his tie self-consciously before moving past her with a nod and taking off at a brisk march.
“They certainly don’t make them like that back home,” murmured Gwen a little regretfully to herself as she checked that everything was safely back in her bag. ‘
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September 1, 2013
‘Hindsight’ excerpt – Three Wishes Blog Blitz – huge giveaways!
Today I’m participating in the Three Wishes Blog Blitz, hosted by author Juliet Madison! From 2nd to 6th September you’ll have the chance to win some awesome prizes at all the blogs participating in the blitz, including mine. All you have to do is follow my instructions below for winning the prize I have on offer, and then you can click over to Juliet’s blog to enter her prize draw, and see the list of all other blogs taking part and enter their giveaways as well. How cool is that? Why is it called the Three Wishes Blog Blitz? Juliet’s new romantic comedy release, I Dream of Johnny, is about three wishes, a high-tech genie in a lamp, and one very unfortunate typo that proves magic isn’t all it cracked up to be…
Here’s the excerpt from ‘Hindsight’ -Juliette has time travelled back to 1961, where there are no café lattes…
My lips are about to caress a double shot skim latte. A manicured hand sensuously lifts the latte glass off the saucer, teasing the napkin tied around the middle. My senses are alive with the aroma of freshly-ground coffee beans, tastebuds begging for a taste. The froth kisses my open mouth, my eyes close in anticipation of the forthcoming pleasure, lips glistening and ready to receive the steaming hot, creamy coffee— RRRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGG!
My head explodes with the angry sound of an old-fashioned alarm clock going berserk two feet from my head. My body is kick-started into heart attack mode as arms and legs flail wildly in different directions, a la beetle on its back. I fall out of bed and crash onto the floor. The alarm clock is still ringing. Grabbing for it with both hands, but not awake enough to coordinate them, I manage to knock it onto the floor where it continues its stroke-generating trill.
“Where’s the bloody button? Chris, how do you turn this thing off?” I blurt.
The ring is so aggravating that it may send me screaming to the local asylum voluntarily. Unable to find the button to turn it off, I smash it onto the ground with the force of the Incredible Hulk.
“Shut up! Shut up!” I growl.
Smash! Smash!
“Shut up you little fucker!” Oops, no swearing.
Smash! Crash! But the thing is still going. It’s the prototype of the Terminator. Using my pillow, I attempt to smother it to death. But you know what? It’s still going. It’s still freaking going… I sit on the pillow, hoping that if the asphyxia doesn’t work, my weight will kill the beast, but it just vibrates through the pillow. If possible I would run over it with my car, but that’s right, I don’t have a car!
Chris leans over, extracts the clock from under the pillow and presses the button on the top, in-between the two hammers that belt the crap out of the bell things to make that utterly stupid, stupid sound. Who the hell wakes up to something like that?
Sweat pouring off me, heart rate of an Olympic sprinter, my face contorted in anger, Chris looks at me and tries to speak, but no sound comes out. He has eyes rounder than an owl’s and his mouth is open so far that he looks as though he has a flip-top head. Realising that my language was waaaay out of bounds and perhaps my reaction a tad extreme, I give a little smile and smooth my hair away from my face. He’s still looking at me, stupefied. He tilts his head on the side and creases his eyebrows, positioning his mouth as though he’s ready to speak, but still no sound comes out.
“Ummm, sorry about that,” I whisper. He inhales and looks again as though he is about to speak, but, still nothing. “It’s very loud Chris, does it have a volume control?”
He looks at the clock, turning it over in his hands. Then he looks at me, concern written all over his face, mixed with a touch of fear. But still, no sound. He walks around the bed and places the clock on his bedside table, patting it as if it needs comforting.
“Think we’ll keep it on my side of the bed from now on,” he says, looking as though he’s glad there is a bed in-between us.
“Yep, probably for the best. Sorry.” Don’t worry, Mrs O’Shane, I’ll be your roomie by lunchtime at this rate.
He points to the bathroom, grabs his work clothes and leaves the room, looking back over his shoulder in disbelief, still unable to speak. I wave to him, mouth “Sorry” again and climb back into bed…
To be in the draw to win either an Kindle (Amazon) or ITunes e-copy of my debut novel, Hindsight. All you have to do is finish the following sentence:
If I were to time travel back to 1961, the item I would miss the most would be…
Once you’ve entered my giveaway, visit Juliet’s blog & enter her giveaway too, and visit any or all of the other participating blogs to enter more prize draws. You could potentially win a whole heap of prizes! Good luck! Visit the official Blog Blitz post here: http://www.julietmadison.wordpress.com
August 25, 2013
Interesting but useless questions, part 2…
My very first post was titled ‘Interesting but Useless questions’. That was in October 2012. So, nearly one year later, I have come up with more queer mental ramblings…
Does the wool on a sheep get really heavy when it’s wet?
Wool can absorb nearly one third its own weight in moisture – that’s why there’s no such thing as a woollen bikini – because you’d need steel reinforcing to keep such a bikini where it needs to be. Are the poor buggers struggling to stay upright under the weight? Perhaps that’s why some of them seem to have a permanent lean to one side. After all, they do have those skinny little legs.
So next time I get stuck in the rain and my clothes are saturated, I am going to thank the good lord I’m not a sheep (or wearing a woollen bikini).
Are fish embarrassed when they fart?
It’s not as though they can hide it from the other fish – the bubbles are a dead giveaway. Even if they are really polite fish, who swim behind a plant or object to let one go, the bubbles will still be visible. If they all got together and farted simultaneously, would the tank turn into a temporary spa? Has it ever occurred, or is it something the fish do when the family has gone to bed and all the lights are off?
Do only pets know they are animals and not humans?
We treat them like humans:
They eat expensive food with labels like ‘gourmet’ and ‘tiny tender morsels’ and the ads have Eva Longoria prancing around in the back ground. Does that mean that if I buy that cat food, I will turn into Eva Longoria, or she will come and dance for my cat? Surely, I’m not expected to leap onto my furniture and gyrate each time I feed the cat? (Why is she advertising cat food anyway?)
We give them human names – animals aren’t named Puss or Fido anymore. They have sophisticated names like, Shiloh, Bodhi, Bailey, Rufus and Princess Bubbles . (We did have a cat named Edward Wellington Mouseripper – he was called Ted for short and was not an overly good Mouseripper).
At what age do boy’s testicles become sensitive?
Babies and toddlers grab them with their little hands and squeeze until it all comes out between their fingers like Playdoh and it doesn’t seem to bother them. Grown men vomit, can’t breathe and almost require hospitalisation from the tiniest flick. So, when does the sensitivity start?
Is it possible to train your dog to pooh in a litter tray, like a cat?
I think there’s huge scope to explore that option, and my ten year old son is currently leading the way because he hates doing pooh patrol each morning.
Why is it in American TV shows, that no one ever finishes the drink they just bought from the bar?
I have never left a drink untouched or unfinished – especially one I’ve paid bar prices for. It’s against my religion.
Also, on the topic of American TV shows – why does no one ever say ‘goodbye’ at the end of a phone conversation? And why do all US TV show phone numbers begin with 555?
Is it a cultural thing or do the script writers need to budget their words? If there are any readers from the US who can help me with the last two questions, I’d be very grateful.
August 20, 2013
Author Limelight: Erotic Romance writer, Viveka Portman…
Hello Viveka Portman, and welcome to Author’s Limelight!
What was the first story you ever wrote? The first story I truly wrote was an epic medieval fantasy, I was about fifteen at the time. It was about a girl who wanted to be a mercenary. I still like the premise!
Of all the individuals you have created, do you have a particular favourite? What appeals to you the most about this character? I love all my characters in their own way. I really do have a soft spot however for Lord William Stanton, a character who you see in “The Secret Diary of Lady Catherine Bexley”, and who is a major player in the second book “The Wicked Confessions of Lady Cecelia Stanton” (release date TBA). Lord Stanton is a loveable rogue. He’s a philanderer, gambler but utter charmer. Quick to laugh, and tends to see the best in everyone.
Has being published changed you at all? If so, how? It hasn’t changed me, but it has changed my writing habits. I was a very lackadaisical writer prior to being published, I’d write when I wanted, and only what I what I wanted. Being published motivates me to be a bit more pro-active, and makes me try different things in my writing.
What would we find on your bookshelf / e-reader? A lot of unread books! I have a To Be Read pile that threatens to dwarf me, I love Julie Garwood, Fiona Walker, I also love George RR Martin, and good paranormal romance, the more unusual the better.
What’s the most unappealing thing you’ve ever eaten? Oh I don’t know, I’ve eaten frogs legs but they were actually quite nice! Generally speaking if I find something unappealing I don’t put it in my mouth…
If you could be any of the following characters for one day, who would you be and why? How would you re-write the ending?
a) Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind.
b) Thelma or Louise from Thelma and Louise.
c) Princess Leia from Starwars.
d) Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffanys.
I’d probably be Scarlett O’Hara, because I love Gone with the Wind, mostly because of Rhett Butler – awesome hero! If I could re-write the ending, I’d make sure Bonnie Blue didn’t die, and that Scarlett came to her damn senses and realised what a sexy man she had before it was too late!
Of all the books in history, which do you wish you wrote and why? The Song of Ice and Fire, by George RR Martin – it’s so incredibly epic and engaging. I love it. I admire that man for creating such an amazing world – I’d also like my books to become that popular!
If you could have a superpower, what would it be and why? Is speaking to animals a super-power? If it is I’d want that, then I could ask my cat why he vomits on my carpet so much.
If you could go back in time, where would you go and when? What is one thing you would want to take with you? If you want the expected answer, I’d say regency England to see all the clothes and manners… If you want the true answer, it’s a bit random – and possibly shows that I’ve never grown up, but here goes… I’d really like to go back in time to see the dinosaurs, I find extinct animals fascinating and would love to see them alive. I’d also take an invisibility cloak from Harry Potter – just to be on the safe side.
Can you tell us about your works in progress? I am currently writing the third in my Erotic Regency Diary series. It’s tentatively titled “The Private Affairs of Lord and Lady Fielding”. All the characters in the series stem from characters mentioned in “The Secret Diary of Lady Catherine Bexley”. It follows Lady and Lord Fielding in their pursuit to have a son, (they have two daughters). A situation made unfairly complicated by Lord Fielding’s nasty horse kick injury and the arrival of Lord Fieldings fortune grabbing younger brother. This one has got even me flustered!
Finally, can you give us a sneaky excerpt from “The Secret Diary of Lady Catherine Bexley” please?
Dear diary, it is a relief to know that my husband will not stray to the arms of another woman — I merely wish he’d stray into my own arms a little more frequently — and perhaps stay there a little longer than he is known to. ‘I am grateful,’ I whispered, and nestled closer towards him. I could feel the heat from his thigh burn through the layers of cloth between us. Did he feel it too? My hands had been at rest in my lap, but I let one rise and fall to land on the leg that stretched beside mine. I felt my husband’s body tense beneath it. I turned to face him; I would be bold. ‘Would you kiss me?’ I whispered, knowing my cheeks burned at the words. He stared at me as if I’d spoken Gaelic, and hesitated. ‘Please?’ I asked. It took him another moment to decide, but he swiftly dipped his head and kissed me lightly on the cheek. It was not the kiss I’d wanted or envisioned. I’d seen other people kiss — and kiss passionately at that. Lovers would hide, secreted away behind hedges and dark doorways at parties and balls, kissing each other with longing and desire. In my opinion, kisses on the cheek should be reserved for grandmothers and babies — not wives. ‘I meant …’ I felt the blush. ‘Perhaps you may wish to kiss me on the lips.’ I stared at his mouth then and focussed on his lips; they were full and well-shaped. He pulled away from me and stood. ‘Kissing on the lips, Catherine, is for the French — you are a well bred Englishwoman. A kiss on the cheek is proper.’ He looked angry. ‘Of course, I apologise,’ I said . As I stood, he offered me a stiff arm — which I took lamely, and we returned to the hall.
Portman, Viveka The Secret Diary Of Lady Catherine Bexley, Escape Publishing – Harlequin Enterprises Pty Ltd, Australia.
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August 11, 2013
Author Limelight: Tara Chevrestt…
Today my special guest is fellow Author, Tara Chevrestt, author of ‘Plotting to Win’ , ‘A Healing Love’, ‘Her Story: Fiction Honouring Women’s Fiction Month’, ‘Strong is Sexy’ and ‘Votes for Vixens’ (among many others!), and Bookbabe Blogger. Welcome to the blog, Tara!
What was the first story you ever wrote?
The earliest I remember was fifth grade. I had to illustrate it, write it, and bind it all in a book. It was some story about a girl and her horse.
Of all the individuals you have created, do you have a particular favourite? What appeals to you the most about this character?
Carlos in A Healing Love. He looks like Danny Pino, rides a bike, is Latino, and both a considerate man. *sigh* He is sorta what I envision the perfect man to be—in looks and characterization.
‘Strong is Sexy’ is your motto for heroines. Out of all characters in literature, which heroine do you think most fits this description?
A book called Glamour Gals comes to mind. It is about both Jackie Cochran and Nancy Love and how they started the WASP, Women Air Service Pilots, during WWII. It’s a novel, but all the women in that book were headstrong and struggling to obtain their goal to better help women, the war, and the country in general. Also Russell Whitfield’s Gladiatrix. Woman gladiator…Need I say more? That’s probably the toughest heroine ever! And Haley Elizabeth Garwood’s Zenobia, about a warrior queen. I’ve read some lady pirate books that would make it on this list too.
Has being published changed you at all? If so, how?
I have a lot more appreciation for writers and all they go through. I understand the behind-the-scenes process now and when I write reviews, I keep in mind the author doesn’t always have a say in certain things. I take more care in what I complain about. LOL.
What would we find on your bookshelf / e-reader?
Right this moment, I’m reading Sarah Jio’s The Bungalow. My e-reader has over 200 books on it. We’d sit here all day if I told you those titles. LOL. But it’s a mixture of historical fiction, contemporary, and some romance. Mostly historical though.
Are you a plotter or pantster?
A little of both. I may write down a few scribbles of what I visualize scene to scene, but it becomes something more once I get going.
If you could go back in time, where would you go and when? What is one thing you would want to take with you?
I’d grab lots of money, cash, and travel back to the muscle car days. I’d buy some Chargers, Challengers, Camaros, Novas, and Road Runners and bring them babies back. LOL I’d keep a few for myself and sell the rest.
Can you tell us about your works in progress?
Not right now. I’m not sure it’s going to be under my name. I will say I’m trying something completely different.
Can you give us a sneak peek at the book, maybe something from your favourite scene?
Carlos had been expecting a badly scarred, burly woman, not the petite, slender girl from the coffee shop in Cripple Creek. Only, she wasn’t really a girl. Her curves attested to that. He had to remind himself she was twenty-three, as there was something extremely young and vulnerable about her. Only the angry red mark on her throat—not covered by a scarf as it had been when he’d seen her before—marred her beauty…and that didn’t bother him.
She stepped forward, her gaze on his. She looked just as surprised at the sight of him as he was at the sight of her. Had she been expecting an old man with gray hair? He fought the urge not to smile at the idea. Most people expected someone with his reputation to be much older than his twenty-eight years…and not a biker they’d met in a coffee shop who rambled about senoritas and antibiotics. After all, obtaining a PhD was time-consuming. But he’d been lucky, and unlike many other students, had not had to work his way through college, and thus, had been able to focus solely on his studies. He knew he was blessed. A supportive family and a scholarship had seen him through.
Carlos jolted himself from his musings and managed to tear his gaze away from his patient—patient, best not to forget that—and looked for her brother, expecting him to be right behind her. There was no one there; she was alone.
“Hi.” He rose from his chair and reached a hand out to her for her to shake. “You must be Kimberly Rogers. Is your brother with you?” Her hand felt soft and delicate in his own. He was careful not to give it the firm squeeze he normally was prone to giving, careful to keep his expression neutral and not reveal his surprise or pleasure.
She nodded and pointed to the door, in the direction of the waiting room.
He mentally flipped a switch in his mind, from Casual Carlos to Doctor Carlos. Carlos decided the fact she had brought her brother, but not allowed him to escort her into the office itself was a positive sign. She wanted to do this on her own, obviously. She wasn’t weakened to the point she needed someone to hold her hand at all moments. His task may not be as difficult as he’d originally thought. Then again, too much pride could also hinder a patient’s healing. But at least she was willing and comfortable enough to face a therapist on her own. The woman had drive. It was visible in the way she held herself in front of him, back straight, shoulders back, chin up. And though he knew from her records she was wearing contacts, her eyes had a determined glint the lenses couldn’t hide. The removal of the scarf was a positive step as well. She was no longer ashamed of her wound.
“Have a seat.” Carlos gestured to the chair across from his desk, and then, instead of taking his own, he walked around to take the seat a short distance from hers, turning it slightly as he sat so he would be facing her. When she appeared comfortable, despite the fact she was gripping the armrests, he smiled warmly at her. “I’m Carlos Medina. Your brother told me some of your past history and current problems, but I would like the full story from you. Now, I realize you cannot speak; that’s why you’re here, so is there a particular way you wish to communicate with me right now? You want to write? Would you rather fill out a form and then talk to me on the computer until we progress?” He waited, clearing his throat nervously, for her to answer, and shocked himself with his own internal thought. Please, say no.
Yea, he was going to crumple and throw that desensitization, talk via computer crap out the window…if she let him. He couldn’t explain why—some therapist he was—but he didn’t want to this woman to talk to him online. He wanted to talk to her in person. The little switch was slipping back down to Casual Carlos pretty fast. There must be a short in my circuit, because I don’t want or need a woman in my life like that—especially not a patient. It’s not worth my career…or my heart.
Blurb -
Kimberly Rogers vowed to fight a tragic past the only way she knew how: she joined the Army and became strong. No man would hurt her again. But a war wound sends her to her brother’s in Cripple Creek, WY, with vision and hearing impairments.
Whereas glasses can help her see and hearing aids can help her hear, nothing can force her to talk again. Is she really unable to speak, or is she hiding behind her disability to protect herself, her pride, and her heart? Regulated to the most menial of jobs, her world in shambles, Kimberly is finally convinced to seek medical assistance.
Carlos Medina is Jackson Hole’s best therapist. If anyone can make Kimberly speak again, it’s him. But Kimberly has to meet him halfway, and Carlos has his own past tragedy that the young, mute woman threatens to force him to conquer.
They both have wounds…and sometimes wounds must be reopened before they can heal. Can they open up to each other? Can Kimberly find her voice again and open her heart? Can love heal them both?
August 4, 2013
Author Limelight: Shani Struthers…
Hello Shani Struthers and welcome to the Author Limelight!
What was the first story you ever wrote?
The Runaway Year is actually the first story I ever wrote, although first draft is nothing like the published draft and the title was different too. In fact, it had a range of titles before deciding on the above, a range of styles and a totally different ending! As a copywriter though, I’m forever writing, it’s the day job and night job too!
Of all the individuals you have created, do you have a particular favourite? What appeals to you the most about this character?
The Runaway Year features three main female characters. Layla Lewis is the main character but her best friends Penny and Hannah play a big part too – each of them dealing with their own particular romantic dilemma. Penny is the most feisty of the three and an outrageous flirt to boot. As well as being great fun, she’s kind and caring too, a great friend – as one reviewer said ‘everybody needs a Penny in their lives.’
Has being publishing changed you at all? If so, how?
Being published has given me confidence in my work, if a publisher is prepared to take a chance on my book, it has to be okay, right? It’s also made me very driven. This year it’s one book out there, next year, there’ll be another, maybe even two!
What would we find on your bookshelf/e-reader?
I’ve got a whole mix of books on my bookshelf, authors ranging from James Herbert, Dean Koontz and Stephen King (yep, I love horror!) to Lisa Jewell and Penny Vincenzi. On my e-reader I take a lot more chances with unknown authors. There’s Gunshot Glitter by Yasmin Selena Butt, Tall, Dark and Kilted by Lizzie Lamb and all of Emily Harvale’s fantastic romance books. My TBR is outrageous at the mo!
What’s the most unappealing thing you’ve ever eaten?
I love seafood – prawns, squid, mussels – but oysters, I just can’t bring myself to try them. Although the shell they come in is so pretty, the oyster itself does not entice!
If you could be any of the following characters for one day, who would you be and why? How would you re-write the ending?
a) Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind.
b) Thelma or Louise from Thelma and Louise.
c) Princess Leia from Starwars.
d) Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffanys.
Easy one, I’d be the most wonderful heroine of them all (in my opinion!) Scarlett O’Hara! She’s naughty, she’s feisty, she’s strong in a crisis and she’s downright deluded. Ashley over Rhett? Oh come on! Still, she sees the light in the end but it’s too late, Rhett doesn’t give a damn anymore. I wouldn’t rewrite a thing though, it’s up the reader to imagine what happens next and I’ve imagined loads of times!
Of all the books in history, which do you wish you wrote and why?
I wish I’d written The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. It’s the first book I ever read regarding King Arthur and the dark ages and it kick-started an almost obsessive interest in that period of time for me that I still have to this day (although not quite so obsessive at the mo). An incredibly powerful thing for a book to do.
If you could have a superpower, what would it be and why?
That I could create more hours in the day! With three kids, copywriting to do and a house to see to, sometimes evening comes and I haven’t worked on my book at all. I’d like to create an extra three hours just to sit and write on the latest WIP and preferably I’d like that timeframe to occur around mid-morning when I’m at my best!
If you could go back in time, where would you go and when? What is the one thing you would want to take with you?
I’d go back to the dark ages to see if King Arthur and his cohorts truly existed. Where I would go would be Tintagel in North Cornwall, his supposed birthplace. And the one thing I would take with me would be a camera so I can take some shots of him!
Can you tell us about your works in progress?
I am currently putting the finishing touches to a paranormal mystery that’s heavy on romance too. When that’s done and sent off, I’m going to work on a sequel to The Runaway Year, I’ve already sketched out the story for it, now I just need to flesh it out.
Finally, can you give us a sneaky excerpt from The Runaway Year, please?
Finding herself on the way to the village centre again, she pulled over, intending to negotiate a three-point turn. The cottage was slightly out of the village, so she needed to get back onto the opposite side of the road and go back up the hill. Glancing over Hannah’s instructions again, she swung the car to the right—straight into the path of a motorcyclist.
What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. The rider tried to stop but couldn’t do so in time, although he did manage to avoid hitting her car. As he turned his handlebars hard to the right, his tires lost grip on the wet road and he flew off, sliding some way before coming to a halt.
Layla sat motionless in her car, paralyzed temporarily by the shock. At last she managed to galvanize herself into action and fumbled for the door handle, her shaking hands making it hard to get a grip. When the door finally opened, another dilemma hit. What if she couldn’t stand? Her legs felt like jelly, surely they wouldn’t support her. Forcing herself upward, she was relieved to discover they held firm. Once she was sure they would continue to do so, she bolted over to where the biker lay, placed one hand on his soaking leather-clad shoulder and said, “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not bloody okay!” he replied, a pair of bright blue eyes meeting hers as he lifted his visor. “I’m a bit bruised and battered as it goes.”
Despite his belligerent words, relief flooded through her: he wasn’t dead!
“Oh, I’m so glad,” she said, letting out a huge sigh.
“Glad?” he said, sitting up now and brushing the mud and leaves off his left arm. “Charming.”
“Oh, no, no,” she stuttered, realizing what she’d just said. “I’m not glad that I knocked you over. I’m glad you’re alive.”
“Only just, I think,” he replied, needing a helping hand to stand up.
“Can I give you a lift somewhere, take you to the nearest hospital?”
“The nearest hospital? That would be in Bodmin, I think, about fifteen miles from here. I don’t fancy driving fifteen miles with you behind the wheel.”
Feeling a little indignant now, Layla replied, “I’m actually a very good driver, thank you. You’re the first accident I’ve ever had.”
“Lucky me,” he replied sarcastically.
The Runaway Year-
Dumped by her hotshot boyfriend and boss, Layla Lewis quits her job and heads to Trecastle in North Cornwall to house-sit for a friend-of-a-friend. Trecastle isn’t new to her; it’s a place where she holidayed regularly with her now-estranged mother. It’s also the home of Hannah McKenzie, her childhood friend. Hannah has tempted her with a place to live and a job in the local pub. Needing time to nurse her battered heart and escape her “real life” for a year, Layla accepts.
Hannah is a talented artist as well as a barmaid. She lives in the village center with her boyfriend Jim, a singer in a local band. They are happy together, or as happy as they can be, considering. Hannah loves Jim, but there is someone she loves more and it’s pushing them to breaking point.
Meanwhile, back in Brighton, Layla’s fiery yet loyal friend Penny seeks revenge on her behalf, sending a forged email that could damage her ex’s business prospects. Penny wonders if she has gone too far but is soon preoccupied with her own problems: the sizzle has fizzled in her marriage, and she feels neglected. After getting frisky with Dylan one night, she confesses all to her husband—and he’s been like ice ever since.
Over the course of a year, there is laughter and heartache as all three endeavor to rein in their tumultuous love lives—discovering you can run all you like, but if it’s love you’re up against, true love, good things can only happen when you stand your ground.
Links:
August 1, 2013
Everything I know about sex...
When I tell people I’m not only a romance novel reader, but an active advocate for the genre, I tend to get met with silence. Most people, after all, don’t want to be rude to your face. But there are some, and contextually, it’s often after a few drinks, who will come back with ‘isn’t that porn for women?’
And I tend to answer, ‘well, kinda’.
This post, from Escape Publishing's 'Escapades Blog' is a great read - why Romance readers love the genre, and what tips and trick can our partners learn from Romance Heroes in the bedroom...
July 25, 2013
How not to wear a winter hat…
It’s Winter in Australia, and that means it’s time to get out the winter woollies – scarves, hats and gloves, and wrap myself up in a warm, cosy fashion statement that leaves me resembling the cover of Vogue magazine – if only I could figure out how to wear winter headwear.
I love Berets – they are glamorous, sexy, playful, sophisticated and elegant. I’ve owned red ones and black ones over the years, but still haven’t figured out how to wear them properly. I suspect that my troubles are compounded by the fact that I am not European because all European women seem to look utterly gorgeous in winter headwear.
This is what I would like to look like in a Beret:
But in actual fact, I look more like this.
I’m not completely sure how that works. What exactly is it that I do to the beret to make me look so awful?
Is it because I have short hair and lack the kind of cheekbones that could slice their way through a blizzard?
Do I have an odd shaped head that causes the Beret to convert itself into a felt shower cap?
Should I tilt my head to one side more often to give me that Swimmers Ear -Vogue appearance?
Even a bloody cat looks more sophisticated in a beret better than I do. I mean, what the hell, people?
So, anyway, I moved onto the Beanie – which is not a flattering piece of headwear in anyone’s language, but some people make it look so chic. Perhaps it would work for me?
This is what I would like to look like in a Beanie.
But this is what I actually look like.
On a good day I look much better than this and can probably, at a stretch, pass for the girlfriend of a career criminal, rather than a criminal myself, but those days are rare.
During Winter in Melbourne (which is very cold by Australian standards), I bought myself a Beanie with earflaps. I was aware that it was a little on the dorky side, but others seemed to wear them with some kind of style. I even bought a bright red one for Ethan when he was 1 year old so that we could look stylish and keep warm together.
Did you the look on his face? Was it fear or repulsion? This photo is 9 years old and I still can’t figure out the meaning of his expression. (and yes, I have much thicker eyebrows now – not sure what I was thinking there!)
Even this girl makes it work for her – and she’s a bloody mannequin! She has a plastic vagina and still looks better in a hat than I do!
So, what’s a girl, who can’t wear winter head wear, to do? Wear a hoodie? A baseball style cap? Go cold? I do look all right in a pair of boots, so perhaps I need to focus on them? But how on earth would I secure them to my head?
July 18, 2013
The woman formerly known as ‘Rollerskating Princess’…
Taking my 8 year old son roller skating seemed like a wonderful idea, until I laced up my ‘Crazy Derby Skates’, stood up and realised that I had just secured 8 wheels to my feet. Eight wheels that move – in different directions – usually at the same time. What the hell was I thinking?
Although I managed to stay upright for the entire two hours – I was a Rollerskating Princess in my youth, as were most 70-80’s children- I did notice that there were people around me who were less confident on their wheels. Of course, the writer in me made descriptive mental notes on the most common types of falls -
The Splits Fall – where both legs shoot out in different directions, meaning that your groin hits the ground before any other part of the body. This fall is sudden, unexpected and impossible to recover from once it has commenced, unless you are a former ‘Thigh Blaster’ addict and have the inner thigh strength of the 1980’s Jane Fonda. Due to the high probability of groin injury this is, clearly, not a fall of preference for males.
The L-O-N-G Fall – where you lurch forwards, then sideways, then backwards and then repeat the pattern numerous times as your arms and legs flail like a flag in a hurricane. Your feet leave the ground one at a time, for what seems like hours, as you continue to move at the speed of sound because you haven’t quite figured out what those little rubber stoppers under your toes are for.
Balance is restored for a millisecond, before being lost again, and again, and again.
This is the longest horizontal fall in history and can take a good twenty or thirty metres to complete. In fact, it’s so long that onlookers could be forgiven for thinking that you are performing some nifty dance moves or are having a seizure of some kind.
The long fall will end in either a spectacular display of tangled arms and legs, face down into the roller drome surface, or will, miraculously, be corrected and end when balance is once again regained. That is until a small insect flaps past you, the down draft of his wings causing you to commence the fall all over again.
It is important to believe, during this fall, that no one is looking at you. Not one person is looking at your utterly ridiculous body movements, and the tortured expressions on your face, which could rival those of Jim Carrey. No one is thinking, “what the fuck is wrong with that guy?” The reason for this is that if you were to become aware of an entire roller drome of people absolutely pissing themselves laughing at you, your fall would hurt even more.
The Stationary Fall – this fall is particularly sneaky and usually occurs when you are at, what you presume, is the safest place in the roller drome – clinging onto the side rails with both hands. Then, for no reason known to man, you end up flat on your arse.
The Flying Fall – This fall is the one that, usually, hurts the most and may result in an injury that requires weeks of Physiotherapy (depending on your age and bone density). The Flying Fall may begin like a LONG FALL, but is vertical instead of horizontal.
Without warning, both of your feet flip upwards, leaving you looking directly at your knee caps as they fly past your face and continue in an upwards direction, resulting in a momentary hover approximately three feet above the ground.
It is at this particular point in time that it occurs to you that there is absolutely nothing but fresh air between your arse / back and the hard, cement surface beneath you.
It is also at this point, for the scientifically gifted amongst us, that you realise gravity is a bitch and is about to drop you back down to earth at the rate of a speeding torpedo, but with much less elegance.
With a violent crunch that can be heard two streets away, you find yourself sprawled on the floor performing a remarkably accurate impression of a dying body. The Ambulance is called as you are scraped off the floor and your body pieces reassembled, hopefully in the right order, in the nearest chair.
The owners of the Rollerdrome fuss over you, removing the skates from your feet, and praying that you don’t sue them three ways until Sunday.
Of course you insist that you are alright, even though there is no feeling left in either the Thoracic or Lumbar Vertebrae, your wrist is at right angles and your pride has been smashed beyond recognition. Instead, you limp off to your car trying to convince yourself that all you need is an Ibuprofen, warm shower and a good night’s sleep, and you’ll wake up in the morning feeling as good as new. Suddenly, recapturing your youth by drinking too much and wailing woefully to Karaoke doesn’t seem so bad…
July 15, 2013
Ten Awkward Questions with Sarah Belle [Plus Giveaway!]
Reblogged from JULIET MADISON:
In this segment, authors will be subjected to a list of awkward questions that may reveal more about themselves than they really wish to share, and they will receive a score on the ‘Braveometer’. If they choose to answer only five questions, they are a ‘Brave Author’, if they answer 6 to 9 questions they are a ‘Mega-Brave Author’, and if they answer all 10 questions they are an ‘Ultra-Brave Author’!
I visited the very talented Juliet Madison's blog recently- if you hurry and leave a comment you can still be in the running to win a free e-copy of HINDSIGHT!
