Full steam ahead!

With a bit of luck I will have lots of news soon. But for now, all I can tell you is that The Owners Volume VIII: Sophia, is coming along really well.

Because for the last few years I have been concentrating on writing scripts for film and TV, I'd forgotten how it felt to write a book. How much weight is carried by each and every single word you commit to paper.

I've also realised that the list of finished works I was compiling, ready to publish, is rather long... so do bear with me just a little while longer.



It's taken me about five years to get on with writing the next volume in the Owners series. During that time I wrote a book about a trans person trying to find their way in the world, a family trying to deal with autism, loss and grief and several sci-fi/dystopian novels, as well as the film and TV mentioned above. So I've been kind of busy...

Sophia's character is only touched upon in Volume I of The Owners. There she is an adult, a leader of her people. In Volume VIII we see how her strength of character came into being, what it was that moulded her into the adult she would become.

I can't help feeling sorry for her. Her life is filled with hardship and loss and yet she herself fills me with hope. Hope for the world, hope for humanity. Because regardless of what he goes through, it doesn't taint her soul. I wish we could all be like that.

And I guess it makes me wonder about how I would have turned out without all the things that served to define my life. If I had stayed in Glasgow... or London, even. This division of pathways, I have already looked at in my novel Spit Decision (Amazon, Waterstones, etc.,) and was looking at further in the screenplay I'm also currently working on. I'll let you know how that goes.

So if you find yourself at a loose end and are looking for something good to read, pick up one of my books and remember - there will be more on the way, very soon!

Happy reading! x

New book

It seems that spring has finally sprung. I know that by the sheer volume of weeds which are trying to defeat my plans in my new garden. I know it too by the lyrical birdsong that greets me every morning when I first open my door...

What I do not know it from, is the frozen, dystopian vision that is currently filling the space behind my eyes and causing my heart to flutter erratically.

My head is filled with the characters and unique world of my newest book. And I am consciously worried about them. Unlike Jessica Stone from Ascension, these characters are naïve, unworldly, totally unaware of what they are about to be up against... Like you, I have no idea how or even if they will survive their challenges.

But there is one thing I do know - that I will be there with them, every step of the way.

Happy reading! x 

Do I or don't I?

Today I was faced with a moral dilemma. I can't tell you the specifics but suffice it to say that I was effectively damned if I did and equally damned if I didn't.

You may wonder why I am even telling you this if I can't give you the details but it wasn't ever really about that, it was about doing what I had to do. This weird conundrum came at a very strange point in my day - I had been editing my newest book, Invisible, and was pondering why the character had chosen to act as she had, because in fact there was no good way out of her situation, when indeed I found myself in a similar position.

In the book, she did what seemed right to her and in real life I did what seemed right to me. Were either of those things actually the right thing to do? I don't know. But I believe they were the most moral choices they could be.

So back to why I am telling you this. The simple truth is that like everyone else on this rolling planet, I haven't got a clue what it is I am supposed to be doing here, so I am just doing the best I can.

Is that good enough?
I hope so.

Happy Reading!

Happy New Year!

The main reason for my recent visit to Glasgow was to see my elderly father but I also set time aside to catch up with friends. As we only meet once a year, it is fairly easy to keep up the pretence that I am always well-groomed and presentable and that I never, ever answer the door to the postman in my pjs.

But I knew the day was going to go badly when, sitting perched on her side of the bed in the Travelodge room that I was sharing with her, my two sons and two large dogs, my daughter asked through mouthfuls of cornflakes why I had chosen to dye my hair ginger.

Ginger? Really? I shot up and examined myself to find that she was at least a little right. What I had thought to be a pleasing shade of mid-blonde was indeed rather gingery… which proved that not only was my hair turning white, but my eyesight was failing!

The rest of the day turned out to be different to my expectations too. I had carefully researched where I could meet my friend in the centre of Glasgow to have a drink, as I had not only three children in tow but also two dogs. Finally the internet provided an answer and I arranged the meeting after confirming that they did allow dogs in.

So the appointed day and time came and we made our way to the pub, only to be greeted by two men carrying large bundles of wood into the place.

Horrified, I asked if they had suddenly closed for refurbishment. But they hadn’t. Phew relief! They eyed up the dogs. Equally nervously, I stated that I had already phoned them to check that they allowed dogs in. They assured me they did. We were halfway down the steps into the basement bar before they called me back.

“What?” I asked rather tersely by now. “Aren’t you open yet?”

“Naw hen we’re open,” he said in a broad Glaswegian dialect. “An we’re no doin’ any renovations. An aye yer dugs are welcome in. But ye cannae take yer kids in here.” [Translation: “My dear we are open. There are no renovations being currently carried out and your dogs are most welcome here. But not your children, unfortunately.”]

Would you believe it?

Equally as strange, was the pub we ate at that night which turned out to be a deconsecrated church. The pulpit and area for the choir was still preserved, as was the vaulted ceiling and the stained glass windows. The place was incredibly beautiful and somehow very wrong.

So one pub which was licenced to allow dogs but not kids through the door, and another that had once been the site of religious worship and was now favouring a worship of an entirely different kind altogether? Absolutely! Only in Scotland folks, only in Scotland.

Happy New Year!

The Letter

Here is the paragraph I have just written [yes I actually AM working today] in my lastest novel. I hope you like it:

The journey was agony, each mile covered bringing her closer to her nemesis, each twist and turn of the route seeming to parallel the shifts in her life, the sudden and almost inexplicable changes of direction.

What would this Cherie be like? The name conjured up a very explicit image in her head: short, tight skirt with high heels, a flurry of too-yellow, dyed hair framing a face that was heavily made up, yet still pretty. Attractive in an explicitly sexual, in-your-face sort of way. She would have ‘boobs’ not breasts, and they would be perched high on her narrow rib-cage, permanently on display in a top that was at least one size too small… she would be everything that Fran herself was not.

Thanks y'all!

Thanks to my publisher P'kaboo and my agent Paul Thompson; to all my friends and lovely book buyers. Split Decision is now out as an ebook. The paperback is coming soon. I'll keep you posted.


Sorry if I have driven you half mad with my fretting and constant talking about my engrossing characters but now you have the chance to see what all the fuss was about.

I would like to say that the time has come to relax but you know me, there's another book in the offing now, so if I were you, I'd reinsert those earplugs fast!

Happy Reading.

Read all about it!

My newest book, is now out. Follow the link to take a look at it.

 http://www.pkaboo.net/splitdecision.html

Happy Reading!

Help!

Most people have tried to help with this but the site will often not let them, hence the low numbers.

You have to click on the link then press the share on Facebook or Twitter.

Then you can read all about my latest book.

To everyone who has helped, you have my warmest thanks!

https://www.thunderclap.it/projects/28256-launch-of-ya-split-decision

Carmen. x

It's a love/hate thing!

I'm working on The Owners Volume VII at the moment and have just introduced a brand new character. Her name is Matilda and it looks like she's going to be a star player. Already I can tell that you will love her and then maybe grow to hate her with some empathising thrown in along the way.


You see poor Matilda is caught in a situation where her perception of reality becomes slewed. Like all of us, she is after all only human, and comes with pre-conceived ideas and notions about the world around her. It is these very notions which are going to devastate her life and the lives of all she touches.


The Owners Volume VII :Hunter's Moon


You have been warned!


Carmen. x

News Flash.

I have had a frantic March. I know it's not over yet but this week at least things are quieter.

As you may know I am now working on The Owners Volume VII and loving every moment of it.

Split Decision will be out soon. The Plan, The Boy Who Rescues Pigeons, Saving Grace, The Trouble With Mellillia and Ascension will all follow shortly after Split Decision. Bear with me, I really am going as fast as I can...

Oh and to the fan who came up to me on Friday at the event I attended- thank you so much for your kind comments. I am so glad you are enjoying the series.

Happy Reading!

Just me!

Here is an interview I did just before Split Decision was signed to a publisher.


Featured Interview With Carmen Capuano
 
Tell us a little about yourself. Where were you raised? Where do you live now?



I was born in Glasgow but have lived in England since the age of eighteen. I have a wandering soul and would love to live in lots of different places but having children in school has tied me to one spot.


My ancestry is Italian and Spanish so maybe that’s where the wander-lust comes from.


Although I have many friends my days are rather solitary and I can always be found snuggled hobbit-like on the sofa with my trusty laptop on my knees, bashing away at yet another chapter and having conversations with my characters. It can be lonely being an author but it’s a job I adore.


At what age did you realize your fascination with books? When did you start writing?



I never really thought of myself that way growing up. I think it’s different now because children have more choice over their leisure time but when I was young [oh so long ago ;)] all we could really do was play out or read and I never was much of a fan of the Scottish weather so I spent lots of time indoors reading.


I only began to seriously write a few years ago but now I have so many book ideas that I shall have to live to at least 120 to get them all written!


I write Monday to Friday, term times, when the children are in school. I know other writers write in the evenings but I am whacked by then! To be honest I am a terrible typist but I persevere. I once tried to dictate my books to the computer but because of my Scottish dialect it came out as gobbledy-gook! So now I rely on spell check and proof-readers!


Who are your favorite authors to read? What is your favorite genre to read. Who Inspires you in your writings?



I like most genres but I love science fiction, especially post-apocalyptic and dystopian novels. I will read space operas too but only if they are very character driven.


As a child I loved Dickens and Shakespeare but nowadays I read Dean Koontz or Stephen King for pleasure. As for inspiration, I think I take a little bit from them all, crazy as that seems.


What’s important for me as an author is that my readers see the characters as I do, that they see their faults and frailties – their humanity and sometimes inhumanities. For me the story is only half the goal – I want the writing to be beautiful for its own sake, so I blend style with content.


Tell us a little about your latest book?



I have just completed a YA/crossover novel which is currently with my agent. I’ll let you know how that goes.


My most recently published book is The Owners, Volume IV: A New Epoch. It was an emotionally hard book to write, as has been the two volumes which follow on from it which are not yet published.


My characters had already been through so much and there I was pushing them into more conflict; even more dangerous situations. My stomach was churning with anxiety as I wrote every word of those books! And yet it was a thrilling ride!


The Owners is an unusual series in that it starts in the very distant future with ‘The Owners, Volume I: Alone’, where humans are kept as pets by creatures called Eyons. The explanation for how this situation arose is never fully given in Volume I, however Volume II starts in our very near future and gives more, tiny little clues which are picked up and elaborated on in Volume III so that the reader gets to play detective so to speak.


Everything is there – all the answers – they just need to be discovered and I think that is partly the appeal of the series. But more than anything else its the fact that it is a really good story which keeps my readers coming back for more.


Happy Reading.

News flash!

Just a quick post to say a big thank you to my publisher. Split Decision will be out next year, hopefully early in the year. Details to follow.
 
Oh and I have thoroughly gotten into my latest book, The Ascension of Sarah Mallory - watch this space for updates and snippets.

Here is a little bit:-

I steeled myself for a bout of reminiscing. Normally I was more than happy to talk about my gran or my dad with him, but right then I had more pressing things on my mind.

“She told me a story once. I didn’t really believe it at the time – your Gran was prone to a little embellishment if she thought it livened up a dull tale – but later, much later, I saw that it was true. Well most of it anyway.”

Despite my urgency to help Sarah my interest was piqued. “What was it about?” I asked.

“Well you see that’s the funny thing. Because it was about your Great-Grandma, Emily’s mother, but it was also about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes Jess, you.” There was a note of such sadness in his voice that I almost wished he would come out with something ludicrous, something that would mark one of his rapid slides into dementia and I would be able to dismiss everything.

Hot off my laptop screen here is today's excerpt from the chapter I am currently writing:-

Molly snorted. “I never said it would make you more popular, what I said was that I could help you be more normal.” She waved her hands in the air as if needing their help to explain her point. “I can’t make people like you Lucas, though I can’t see any reason why they wouldn’t once they get to know you. Under all that moodiness and stuff I mean.”

“Gee thanks!”

She laughed again. “Don’t take everything so personally,” she said.

“I’m sorry but you have spent the entire conversation insulting me and I’m not supposed to take it personally?” she really did take the biscuit, he thought.

“Exactly! It’s just a seeing thing, a whatdoyoumacaall it, a thingy…”

Lucas thought hard. The conversation was going off track and he was losing the thread rapidly.

“When you watch something and you see it!” she was getting annoyed with herself that she couldn’t remember the word.

“An observation?” he supplied.

“That’s it! That’s the thing I meant – an obstication! That’s what it was!” she was almost skipping with excitement now.

“Observation,” he supplied again.

“Whatever,” she waved the word off with her hands. “The point is that you have to let them get to know you before they can like you.”

 

 

Molly is turning out to be a more central character than I had anticipated but from the moment she bounced into the story I knew she had some important things to say...I wonder what she will do next?

 

Happy Reading!

Here is the latest snippet from The Boy Who Rescues Pigeons.
 
Lucas is growing closer to his rescue every day. But the bird is growing stronger and soon he will have to face that bittersweet moment all rescuers do - he will have to let the bird go back to the wild.
 
I know fellow resucers will all know that feeling well, the hope and the dread mixed together, it is a heavy feeling in your heart, like treacle seeping through it. Here Lucas is just beginning to feel it :-

 
The pigeon was coming along well and every day took more of an interest in the world outside the window. She would turn her head to watch other birds fly past but now, instead of trying to press herself through the glass as she had done the first morning he had placed her there, she would watch for a while and then turn to him as if to say, ‘that will be me one day, won’t it? You will set me free, won’t you?’


He always replied verbally to her look. “Yes Brighteyes, that will be you too one day.” His mouth said the words even as his heart tried to retract them. He could no longer imagine being in his room without his little feathered friend to keep him company. The pigeon was growing more and more comfortable with him every day and there was a feeling of teamwork between them, as if it was actively helping in its own rehabilitation
 
This book is now about 2/3 complete. I will let you know how I get on. In the meantime if you want to look at my other work just scroll down or click on one of the links.


And as ever - Happy Reading!

Moving on!

Hip-hip-hooray! Back to writing today! [It even rhymes! :)] Here is a snippet from today's chapter.

“Well Lucas, I am no vet. But I am a scientist first and foremost. Have you ever heard of something called Chaos Theory?”

“No.” Lucas hoped that the conversation wasn’t descending into one of Mr Levy’s lectures about scientific principles.

“Well Chaos Theory is a particular field of study in mathematics which has implications in the scientific world. Perhaps you have heard of The Butterfly Effect?”

Lucas shook his head.

The teacher looked crestfallen. “It’s of no matter. But the Chaos Theory teaches us to always expect the unexpected and that one small, insignificant change can, over time and space lead to a monumental shift in circumstances somewhere else.”

“I’m sorry Mr Levy but I don’t think I’m following you,” Lucas sighed.

“Your racing pigeon…”

Lucas interrupted to stave off further confusion. “It’s not a racing pigeon. It’s a normal one I found in the street. It had been injured by a car I think.”

The teacher clapped his hands delightedly. “How wonderful! How perfectly wonderful Lucas for this serves to explain the theory even better!”

Lucas didn’t see how that was possible but he kept his mouth shut.

“Let’s assume that the bird would have died were it not for your intervention. That after all would have been the most likely outcome. But now you have intervened. The bird may die or it may not but ripples have been formed by your actions – ripples that might have far reaching consequences!”

Lucas still didn’t know how this helped him in any way. “But what do I do?”

That’s the whole point. You do nothing now other than carry on looking after the bird – whatever happens next is down to Chaos Theory – or fate if you would like to call it that!”

Lucas backed out of the room leaving the chortling teacher behind. No-one could help him and no-one but him could help the bird. He really was alone against the world.


It's incredible the things I have to research in order to write...one day if I'm lucky I might just get clever!


Until then - Happy Reading!

Taken from The Boy Who Rescues Pigeons.

Chapter 13

 

    It was a girl.

    Long, waist-length brown hair framed a face that was impish and open. Probably no more than ten years old, he was struck by the way she held herself in the open doorway; looking out without yet venturing out, as if curious about what the day held in store for her.

    She is part of the new family that’s moved into Josh’s house, Lucas thought. Except of course that it wasn’t Josh’s house at all any more, was it? He looked away, speeding up his pace, wanting to avoid having to acknowledge that things had moved so far on; that Josh had moved so far on…

    “I know who you are,” a voice at his side said brightly.

    Without even looking down, he knew it was her, the stranger from the house. Taller than most other girls her age, she also seemed to lack their customary shyness.

    “I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you. And you don’t know me either,” he put in for good measure.

    “Well maybe not know exactly,” she acceded, “but I have seen you.”

    “Seeing isn’t knowing,” he ramped up the pace once more, an image of Hugh Grant blazing across his inner vision like an incitement to war.

    “I’m Molly. Molly Hickling. What’s your name?”

    “Go away,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

    “Well that’s a dumb name, Go Away!” She managed to make it sound as if she really thought that was his name. It was only the smallest stifled giggle on the end of her words that gave the game away.


Molly is my newest character and I think she has some important things to say...


Happy Reading,


Carmen.

AARGH!

I have spent the last two days TRYING to update this blog! I now have a review page and a BUY IT HERE section, although this will not format correctly at the moment due to an internal server problem with BlogSpot. So please bear with me and I will rectify it asap.




In the meantime, if you want to purchase my books you can use the VIEW AND BUY link listed under my pages.


Many thanks!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!


Many thanks to Droitwich Library for their invitation to conduct a book signing event during their Space Day on Saturday. And a heartfelt thank you to all the people who bought my book.

I had a fabulous time and met lots of really great people!

Welcome back! I hope you all had a great Christmas and New Year. Mine unfortunately was a mixed bag and I suspect it will continue to be so for some considerable time :(

Anyway as they say in Scotland, "out with the auld and in wi' the new!"

Now I would like to tell you a little tale of what happened to me just before Christmas.

'Twas the night afore Christmas [actually it was the 23rd but what the heck] and all was still and quiet all around. I had a friend staying over and the house was festive and Christmas looking. Tinsel adorned picture frames, cards littered the mantelpiece and hearth and there was a large glowing fibre-optic tree in the lounge window and another two scattered around the house.

As usual I had several items which had just sold on Ebay, one of which was my old dining room table set and I was awaiting its collection. My friend and I had just returned from walking the dogs and both humans and canines were dishevelled and muddy.

The children were excited and all around us there was much high pitched talk and laughter, children racing each other up and down the stairs and causing the biggest dog to whirl around and around, trying to catch her own tail in anticipation of some extraordinary event. The very air was charged with adrenaline and the scent of some long awaited pleasures and surprises.

It was at that precise moment that the doorbell rang and I ushered in a very dapper looking Asian man who turned out to be my Ebay buyer. Having returned late from the walk, I had not had time to dismantle the table as I had assured him I would do, so I did as any insane Scottish five-foot-two author would have done - I lied!

"I was thinking that to save you the bother of having to assemble it with all its various parts," were there various parts, I had no idea but I was into the bluff now and damned if I was going to fall at the first hurdle I encountered, "and as I knew you were bringing a big van for the collection," I had known no such thing but luckily he had turned up in a big white van, "you might want to take it out assembled and save yourself some bother." I actually managed to nod sagely at myself as if it was the best idea ever spoken aloud.

The dapper Asian gentleman agreed. So we began, the Asian man at one end of the table and my friend at the other. We tried to manoeuvre it through the lounge door into the hall ...no way was that happening! The legs of the table almost jammed in the door frame and we had to beat a hasty retreat.

But of course there was the piece de resistance - the patio doors which led from the conservatory to the back garden. We got the table back through the double doors from lounge to dining room and then dining room to conservatory and finally the outside with no ill effects. But the brick walls of the side passage which leads from back garden to front were a daunting obstacle. Unbending and unyielding they stood steadfast in their foundations and taunted me with their narrow confined space.

There was nothing for it but to dismantle the table - there would be no other way of removing it from the home. My mind searched through the old memories of the ex-boyfriend who had assembled the table originally. I remembered there had been a lot of cursing and many tools and instruments used in the process. But for goodness sake, it was a table...not a build-your-own-house-kit, how complicated could it be? Then I remembered that half-way through the job he had left to buy some bolts...there were bolts holding the table together! My blood ran cold. How on earth was I going to get the table dismantled with the new owner looking on? In absolute panic I turned to my friend.

Like a horse fed on a diet too rich in oats I must have resembled nothing more than a panicked little pony [I would have liked to say horse but that's stretching the truth a little too thin.]

Lips pulled back in a tight grimace and eyes rolling wildly, I assured the buyer that my friend would have the table dismantled in a jiffy. The Asian man went back outside to tell the van driver that there was a delay. It was at this point that it started to rain.

Huge sheets of glacier drops shattered to the ground, soaking everything in their path within seconds. Like rapiers, the raindrops sliced through clothing and footwear; mini heat-seeking missiles which leached the warmth from bones and the humour from hearts.

I could tell that by now the Asian gentleman was no longer impressed. I went back inside to see how my friend was faring.

Like an old beloved relative who is past his prime but wishes to be shackled to the home he has known and loved for so long, the table seemed to be resisting all his efforts to dismantle it. And even more unfortunately the house appeared to be colluding with it! I watched transfixed as the first screws were removed and promptly fell into the cracks between the dining room floor boards. I lunged across the room and using a butter knife, began to frantically gouge the minuscule gap in order to retrieve the screw. Hair plastered to my scalp by rain and the thin sweat of fear and embarrassment I grappled with it until I managed to clasp it in my damp palm.

Meanwhile my friend had moved on to the bolts. The table fought bravely, seeming to withdraw the bolt heads deeper into their holes and securing them there with a determination I had not known an inanimate object could possess. My friend persevered. The table resisted. My friend grunted and groaned. The table remained quietly victorious. Until with a quickness of wrist and keenness of eye my friend held the table a certain way, twisted the bolt whilst simultaneously pushing away from it and in one fell swoop, the table was finally undone, mastered, defeated.

And somewhere inside the very pit of my stomach it felt like a hollow victory...perhaps it was the presentiment of things yet to come...

We carried the table remains outside. By now the unrelenting rain had turned to hailstones of the most frightening kind. Huge balls of ice struck us as we hurried the wooden parts to the two men waiting in the white van.

It was on the first return journey that my friend turned a peculiar shade of white. "Get a bit of paper and take down their registration," he hissed at me theatrically.

"Why," I hissed back, just as theatrically [I hate to be outdone and have a terrible competitive streak.]

"Just bloody do it!" he sniped back, seemingly in a mood not to be outdone. But something about the thin set of his lips and anger in his eyes made me bite back any words which came immediately to my mind.

So it was that I stood outside of my house, in slippers and drenched clothing, in front of the van and tried to look as if I were inconspicuously eyeing up my neighbours property when in fact I was memorising the licence plate of the van for God knew what reason.

But being me, I could not bear the suspense and begged my friend to let me know what all the cloak and dagger stuff was about.

"You know when we went out with the first lot of wood from the table?" he said slowly, as if talking to a demented five year old.

"Yes?" I said, trying and failing to hide my annoyance.

"Well I noticed my car door was slightly open and the glove compartment lid was down... and my satnav is gone! Those men have stolen it."

"Well, I will go and confront them!" I said, feeling like I could now take on the world even though my knees were knocking. I told myself it was temper and sheer anger but in the calmer light of day as I write this I am less afraid to admit that yes, there was a little bit of fear in there too.

"No!" he said. "They will deny it and you have no right to search them. "We will have to phone the police."

I watched the two men battle the elements and lock up their van, all the while willing myself to go shove a banana up their exhaust pipe or a nail in their tyres, anything, everything that would prevent their leaving and prompt them into full disclosure and repentance, culminating in them returning our stolen property.

But of course, none of that happened. instead I snatched the money for the table from the man from behind a half-closed door and then slammed it shut in his face, hating myself for being so inadequate.

Then I reached for the phone.

The police, I have to say were very understanding. They were also very quick. Unusually so. I guess that should have started alarm bells ringing in my head...

"We have a rapid response team on the way and there is a helicopter in the area," the 999 controller informed me.

"Oh, um, ok," I responded. "But you will probably not be able to catch them, they left a few minutes ago," I explained.

"Do you know where they were headed caller?" she asked.

"They are on their way back to London," I related what they had told me.

"London, eh?"

Ok so at this point I should have known that things had become more than a little farcical I guess. But you know what? When wrapped up in the situation as it is actually unfolding, you cannot always see the wood for the trees. In my defence, Your Honour!

"So will you let me know what happens?" I asked.

"We have stopped them and are doing a full search on them as we speak," she stated triumphantly.

Now whilst we had been on the phone I had heard several police sirens but could not bring myself to believe it was in response to my call. But yes, it appeared that indeed it had!

Then the police controller said something which made it all fall into place. "We were in your area anyway as there have been a number of thefts within the past twelve hours, many involving satnavs and we think it is a gang targeting your area. With your help we might just have caught them. Hang up now caller as a constable is on his way to your house with more information."

I thanked her and duly hung up.

No more than ten minutes later, two very soaked PCs arrived at my house with a satnav.

"Is this it?" they asked brandishing the said article in my face.

"No," I stuttered dejectedly. "Did you find any others?"

"Well here's the thing..." he said slowly, strangely using that same tone of voice my friend had used on me earlier, the one that made me feel about knee high to a grasshopper and only half as intelligent.

"We searched the men extensively. We made them empty everything out of their van." He didn't say 'in the torrential rain and hail' but I felt the words anyway. "We made them unlock every box and empty out every holdall and bag in the van..." And oh dear God the feeling in my stomach was telling my head and heart things it did not want to know.

"We looked everywhere and there were none of the stolen goods from any of the houses." He looked me in the eye and we both knew he knew I was an idiot. "Is it possible that the theft had occurred before these men arrived and that their arrival was just a coincidence?"

It was of course the only logical answer and I was doubly humiliated. Not only had I caused innocent men to be pulled over and virtually strip searched but I had not even been aware of the burglary in the very first place!

I bowed my head in shame and felt the weight of life upon my shoulders as the policemen trudged away, back to the innocent men who waited still bent over their van in the rain and hail, searched and grappled with to within an inch of their lives. Treated like ghetto drug dealers - because of me!

So now every time I  go to my Ebay account and view the feedback, I cringe. Nothing has been posted there - yet - but I imagine it nonetheless. It will read something like this:-

"Avoid like the plague. This woman will lure you to her home with promises of Ebay bargains but whilst you are there she will waste your time, snatch your money from your hand and then have you strip searched by the police on departure. AVIOD AT ALL COSTS!!!"

So dear readers, this blog post is my way of an open apology to those poor innocent men.

Now can I interest anyone in an only slightly used dishwasher?

Anyone?

[N.B. The above is a true story - unfortunately for all participants.]

Hi folks, things are too frantic to write a post right now so I'll leave you with this teaser...I have a really funny but true-life story to tell you when Christmas is over.

Until then Merry Christmas and Happy New Year !

And of course - Happy Reading as ever.

Carmen.