I love how sensible my characters are - I wish I could emulate them. Here is the latest on The Letter.

“Look at me,” she said softly.

He shook his head and even from the side she could see the watery glint which welled there. “What are you hiding Tod?”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m hiding me…”

Fran felt herself getting angry. “Today isn’t the day for being enigmatic… God knows there is enough I haven’t understood or noticed in my life up until now. Which is why I’m about to say this:- if you won’t tell me what the Hell is going on, I will walk away right now and never see you again!”

Coming Soon

My latest book  [almost completed] is about a woman whose life falls apart after she hears some revelations. Is she like me? No, not at all, but even so, getting into her head space is draining and emotional. That is of course part of the joy and sorrow of writing - you personally bear the pain of every misfortune your character suffers. And then at the end of the book there is no real sense of release... the characters linger for a while. It's like that old saying they used to have in offices which read, "You don't have to be mad to work here... but it helps." You don't have to be insane to write your characters well but... :)

 

I'm not sure when this one will be published, as you know I have a bit of a backlog going on, but I'll keep you posted.

 

Happy Reading!

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.