I read from Decent Exposure and Wish You Were Here and also used my North & South DVD as a prop to explain how I started writing romantic fiction. And yay! I only knew two people in the audience - all the rest of the girls (of all ages) were ‘real’ readers. Another surprise was that a former school friend, Wendy, and a member of my secret Internet messageboard group turned up and joined us for a curry afterwards.
Kings Norton Library had put on hot chocolate, chocs and gave everyone a goody bag with a free book, more chocolate and a free Body Shop perfume sample. Romantic fiction is hugely popular with women of all ages - and it was a real pleasure to chat about my books, about LBD and romance in general. Julie’s SWFW is now flying off the library shelves too.

PS: I have just realised I have big hair at the back of my head, rather like a space alien. Sorry…:)

March 22, 2007 | 4 Comments

Okay. It’s been too serious on here of late. And there haven;t been enough photos. I’m off to the library tonight, with chocolates, Buck’s Fizz and DVD/pics of Richard Armitage. I figured they are what I would like on a Girly Night In. While I’m at it, I must mention a new website which has been set up by a good friend of mine. It’s um…called www.richardarmitageonline.com has some great photos of Richard doing theatre. It’s actually quite a serious, informative resource on his acting career. Yes, really. Go look, if you don’t believe me.
So - photos? Well, I dunno. I’ve been seriously toying with the idea of having a hero without hair and a lot of body art. Someone who is not Mr Darcy. The type of guy Mr Darcy would have had fed to his carp or maybe have sent to the colonies on a prison hulk. But I don’t mean the Phil/Grunt Mitchell no-hair, jailbait type. No, I’m thinking this…

March 20, 2007 | 6 Comments

I hope to get the proofs of Wish You Were Here tomorrow so I decided to post a short extract. I always feel nervous about posting excerpts, I know other authors do it all the time and yes, there will be copies all over the world soon. But…I dunno, revealing this is like one of those dreams where you find yourself walking down a street naked!

Well, I’d better get my metaphorical kit off, which from previous books, you’ll know I have a thing for. So here we have the normally cautious, responsible Beth and the extremely responsible and slightly squiffy Jack in a situation neither of them ever expected to be in.

Wish You Were Here

An hour later or maybe it was two, Beth found herself lying full-length on the black sofa, She was stuffed with tortilla chips, her lips were tingling with chilli salsa and the neck of the Armagnac bottle was clutched between her fingers.
“Beth. It’s getting late.”
Her eyes focused slowly. Jack – she was pretty certain it was him - was standing next to her and for some reason, was trying to steal a bottle from her. Why he was there at all, was a mystery to her. It had been such a long time…ah… she began to recall. He’d given her a job. She clutched at the bottle again but Jack prised it from her fingertips,
“Let me have this. You’ve had enough,” he said.
“Don’t be a spoilsport. One little drink won’t hurt me.”
“It will on top of these,” he said, holding up a white packet. “They fell out of your bag. These are prescription painkillers. Your dad’s name is on the label. How many have you had?”
“One or two …maybe three in the bar. AnothercouplelaterIdunno.”
Loosening her fingers from the bottle, he shook his head at her double-glazed eyes. “Try and sit up. I’ll get you a glass of water.”
“Oh Jack… the night is young…don’t be such a boring old fart.”
“I’d better get you into bed,” he said sternly, then regretted it.
“Woo-hooo. Aren’t you strict?” she giggled. “I’m a big girl now, Jack Thornfield. I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”
“Be quiet and let me help you up,” he said gruffly.
Jack was totally pissed off with himself – if he was honest, a bit pissed per se. When he’d offered Beth a brandy, he’d only wanted her to relax, not to get her drunk as a skunk. She’d seemed fine and she’d only had two glasses – but then again, he’d had to go into his study to take a call at one point. He’d only been away about ten minutes but the bottle did look suspiciously low. Maybe she’d been topping up the glass or, more likely, his judgement was distinctly on the hazy side.
She held out her hand and as he went to take it, pulled him down suddenly. He was a big man but she caught him by surprise and he couldn’t help collapsing on top of her.
“Oof…”
“Jeez!”
“Jack…”
He was going to ask her if she was all right, but there was no need. Her arms were round his neck, her face was next to his, her lips were an inch away, smelling of Armagnac and chili. It was a strange but enticing combination. Raising her head a fraction, she lifted her mouth to his. He let her open lips rest on his closed ones, tasting for a moment, the salt of tortillas. At that moment, he had the urge to lick every salty grain from her full lips then taste the rest of her. Instead he jerked his head back and struggled to entangle her arms as gently as he could. What the hell had possessed him to offer her a drink in the first place? Oh yes, he remembered: he’d wanted to be nice to her. Nice one, Jack.
“Get up, please.”
Her arm hung limply over the edge of the sofa, her eyes stared at him and a small, slightly deranged smile tilted the corners of her mouth.
“Mmm…you know what, Jack… boss….I don’t think I can.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Okay boss.”
“Shit.”
“Whadidyousay…”
He couldn’t reply because he was grunting with the effort of hoisting her up off the sofa into his arms. His thighs protested and his biceps quivered as he straightened up. It wasn’t like in the movies, she wasn’t a stick-insect and he was tired. She was also completely out of her tree. The irony was not lost on him. How many times in the past had he fantasised about having Beth spend the night in his apartment? Except this wasn’t Beth, was it? Not really. This Beth absolutely couldn’t stand him and was only here because she was desperate, drugged and drunk – the latter being his fault.
“I know your type….” she slurred, clinging to his neck and bringing her face up close to his as he staggered towards the bedroom. “I know you …you’ll have my knickers off before I can say Kilijanmaro,”
“You’re totally safe with me, I can promise you that. And by the way, it’s Kilimanjaro.”
The sober Beth he’d once known would have socked him one by now. The wriggling vamp in his arms let out a shriek of mirth. He winced as his eardrums throbbed. “Ooohhh…..get you…”
He managed to back the door to his bedroom open, as Beth giggled in his arms. “This shuit is a pain in the bum. The skirt’s too tight and I nearly couldn’t get my leg over a bloke’s parcel on the Tube. He was sooooo hairy and he reeked of garlic.”
“Really?” said Jack, laughing, because if he didn’t laugh he’d be crying in frustration at having a half-dressed Beth, willing and up for it, in his bedroom and not being able to do a thing about it.
“And this blouse,” she said, looking straight down her cleavage. “It’s wayyyy too hot in your sanctum, you know …or is it too cold? Whatever, I hate that air conditioning. It’s not environmentally friendly you know. It’s an insult to the ozone layer. I should report you to the energy com – commis- the authortish.”
My God, he thought, she was outrageous when she was drunk. God knows what she’d be like in the morning.
“I’ve already been reported to every commission in the planet,” he said, plonking her down on the purple suede throw. “And you’ve had far too much brandy. I’m putting you to bed.”

Extract by permission of Headline Publishing