Matilda - The Owners, Volume VII: Hunter's Moon

A little peek at Matilda...

Careful you don't look too long though, for she is a feisty one!


Excerpt from The Owners, Volume VII: Hunter's Moon.

Matilda awoke before the others. Taylor lay beside her, his face partially obscured by the arm he had thrown over his eyes to block out the rising sun. Part of her longed to move his arm and gaze at the face she had known so long and so well but her resolve would not let her do so. She had taken on the role as leader of this hunting party and if it killed her, she would neither ask for his support nor subordinate herself to him. 

She owed it to their people to be strong and more than that, she owed it to the little child, Verity, who might already be dead.

Did I cling to her because I have no children of my own? It was a fair question and one she wasn’t entirely sure she could answer. Would I have felt differently if I had had a brood of my own children, clinging to my shirttails like all the other women? she wondered. Either way, does it really matter? Things were how they were, after all. She rose quietly, moving with a catlike grace, unwilling to wake the others until she was no longer sharing a space with Taylor.

On her feet, she circled the group. Everyone slept deeply and she was surprised into a revelation as she bent to shake them awake, one at a time.

“We could have been attacked and killed in our sleep, slaughtered without us even knowing we were in danger,” she said, once she had their full attention.

Taylor sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Well we weren’t. And I think that’s a little unlikely…”

Matilda didn’t give him time to finish. “Why not? You think that monster is afraid of us? After he snatched a little child right out from under our noses and left without even a scratch? Oh yes, he must be very afraid!” She heard the sarcasm in her own voice but was unable to reign it in.

She saw Taylor’s eyes widen in surprise and she instinctively knew it was not from either her words or her tone of voice but the way the criticism was directed straight at him.

“He was too high too fast for the arrows to reach,” he said simply.

“I know,” she agreed, hoping that he understood her frustration. They had been speaking as if there were only the two of them in the conversation, only the two of them standing there, with nothing and no-one else around for miles. Now she turned so that her words addressed them all, equally.

“From now on, we post a guard. If we do somehow manage to find him, the battle has to be on our terms, at a time and place of our choosing, not his.”

She was right, and they all knew it. Enough had been said, there was no point in pressing the issue. She bent and began to pack up their meagre camp.

If you would like to find out more, then follow the link on the right to find the first volumes in this epic tale

Happy Reading!

Latest chapter

Taken from my newest book:-

I neither hold my head up nor down as I walk. Why should I care what anyone thinks of me, when I have no love for myself? But as I reach the school, that huge architectural dream of glass and steel, I hesitate. These gates, this building – all of it – are from another time, another version of me. I force myself to enter the confines of the school. Make my way up the corridor and to my locker. The original key I had is gone, lost in the fire, but someone must have issued me with a new one and given it to Mum, because it was on my bedside table waiting for me.

The key slides easily into the lock as if it was the original but I know it isn’t, and the door springs open. Inside is stuff that was once mine; an old fluffy bear that someone gave me on Valentine’s Day two years ago, a packet of half eaten mints, a hairbrush, pink lip-gloss, an old phone cover and one woollen glove. I stick my bag on the empty shelf, sweep everything else into my hands and take them to the bin. I watch them slide from me to the abandonment of the black plastic receptacle. They are from the time of the old Scarlett and she no longer exists.

I return to the locker, remove my bag and lock it, even though it’s empty. If I leave it open someone might actually put something inside, and then it won’t be the empty vessel it should be. Then it won’t reflect the new me.

I hope you like my little snippets of what I'm currently writing. For a book that I've already brought out with my publishers, see the list to your right. There's also a whole page on reviews.

Happy Reading!

An Exciting New Book

Oh it's a good start to the day...

I have just started to write a story that's been rattling around my brain for about three years. It's going to be a dark one!

Here's the very first paragraph:-

I sit on the hospital bed and wait for them to come for me. The smell of disinfectant is overpowering. It’s too clean, too sterile, as if it intends to wipe out every living thing from the face of the earth. Perhaps it should start with me.

There’s nothing here to look at except the other patients. I try to avoid looking at them, not because it’s rude to stare, but because I don’t want their attention returned to me.

Happy Reading!

A Milestone!

Today I am taking a little time out from writing to reflect on life and relationships, because next week, I will be fifty.

I have been calm and crazy about this idea in turns. I admit that being fifty is better than being dead, but that's about as much as can be said for it. Let's be honest, unless I can reach at least 100, then I am already more than half way through my life. I almost want to stay up until 3am every night and rise again at 6, just so that I can squeeze every last drop of living from every day. But if I actually did that, I wouldn't be around for very long...

Yes, it's a milestone, an achievement. There are plenty of poor souls who never get this far in life. And it's wonderful to see my three, lovely children growing up, becoming daily more independent. I just hope that as the years pass, I will continue to have a place in their increasingly busy lives.

My life is good. I have a job that I adore and because there is time left at the end of my working day, I now have another job, doing social media for some very well-known places and faces [don't ask because I can't tell]. And that too is fun. So it's all good.

As for the house - well it's coming along. Still slowly and still with one step forwards and at times two backwards. That was certainly the case the other day, when my outside tap burst and there was literally water everywhere. But I guess that too is part and parcel of trying to do up a dilapidated wreck of a place.

But I started this post to talk about relationships. Recently it has become very clear to me that things need to change, so I have set things in motion. I have joined a friendship group, not for romance but to meet men and women who actually enjoy doing the things I do - so much better than dragging a reluctant partner along to things they don't want to attend.

So if when you are out and about, you see a crazy woman dancing  like a loon and having a ball with a big group of people, come and say hello - for it will most likely be me.

Happy Reading!

Praza Princess!

How often do you get to feel like a film star? Like a Goddess who graces everyone with her presence? Not often I'm guessing. Me neither!

But that is exactly what's on offer at Praza in Edgbaston. With it's sumptuous interior design, high-backed velvet armchairs which resemble thrones more than anything else, and its exquisite food, it's impossible to feel anything less.

Add to that the polite and courteous staff, who clearly take their lead from the charismatic proprietor of this high class Indian dining establishment, and it's more than just a step away from the ordinary dining experience.

There's such a lot to love about Praza because it really has it all. Great location [with free car parking] fabulous food and an amazing ambiance.

So imagine how thrilled I was to attend a VIP event last night where they were showcasing Bombay Sapphire gin. Now you know me readers, I come from Glasgow and am from Italian and Spanish descent, so I like my alcohol. In particular I love champagne and gin.

So when I was given the chance to sample Bombay Sapphire at this select event, I jumped at the chance.

I've never had this particular brand before and must admit that I thought there would be no difference to my usual brand. I was wrong. It's much, much smoother with a subtlety I haven't experienced before. In fact I demanded to read the list of ingredients in a bid to find out why it was so different and was persuaded to try another - in the cause of science of course!

So many thanks to Bombay Sapphire and to Praza for a great night and a fantastic memory!

Here it is!

I am overwhelmed!

Thank you so, so much to Elonex in general, and to Pat and Adam in particular, for making this happen.

http://elonexoutdoormedia.co.uk/

That's what I call an ad!

Look out for the huge digital ad for Split Decision if you are on the A38, Aston Expressway. It will be going live tomorrow... oh the excitement is just too much!

My warmest thanks and deepest gratitude to Elonex, the guys who made it all happen.

Breaking news...

Big exciting news... My latest novel is going to be displayed on a giant media screen on the Aston Expressway AND WHSmith will be stocking Split Decision in their stores!

I can't tell you how excited I am! I will be standing there gazing up at the display for hours on end no doubt.

People often ask what it is like to see your name on a book or to hold in your hands something that you created. The answer is that its a strange feeling. A novel is a piece of work that a novelist doesn't just write, they imagine it into being, so to hold it finally in your hands is rather surreal, almost magical, in the truest sense of the word.

I will keep you posted about the advertising date and perhaps you will be passing by at just the right time...

I know I will :)

Book Launch announced!

I hear thunder!

If you would like to support my Thunderclap campaign, then just click on this link and when prompted, share to your Facebook or Twitter. It costs nothing and you can keep the message private.

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

Many thanks,

Carmen. x

Here I am at my latest book signing event. Wish I hadn't slouched!

Photo courtesy of Gem Media.

Last night by exclusive invitation courtesy of Gem Media who were promoting the event, I attended the launch party of the Belle Vue Bar and grill on Icknield Port Road, Birmingham.

The wine was smooth and the conversation more so. I spoke to numerous interesting people including the four times World Kick Boxing Champion, 'Kash The Flash' and the esteemed Lord Mayor of Birmingham, Councillor Shafique Shah.

The atmosphere in the chic modern bar was absolutely electric! Laughter and excited conversation flitted over the soft music as the sumptuous food just kept on coming forth from the open kitchens; huge steaming plates of fiery samosas, spring rolls and succulent chicken curries to name but a few. The air was redolent with the smells of exotic foreign destinations and tinkled with the sound of wine and champagne glasses being refilled. 

But me of course being me there was [as ever] a humorous situation yet to unfold.

A very glamorous Asian lady had placed herself close to me. Chatting in different groups we had yet to actually speak to one another. But when a young attractive man approached me and began to converse, this lady sidled over and asked "Is this your husband?"

Rather flattered that she could even think this could be the case [the man was at least fifteen years younger than me] I simply said that no, he wasn't. The lady moved back to her original position, flanking my right side within her 'own' group.

The man went off to mingle elsewhere and another man came over to discuss life, jobs and the event we were attending.

"Is this your husband?" a little voice at the side of me enquired. Yet again I said that no, the man was not my spouse. She nodded and left me to it.

Guess what? I ended that conversation, only for another man to come over. This time I talked about being an author and how I loved my job as he listened politely.

And I was almost ready for her when the comment came. Almost but not quite. "So is this your husband?" she asked. At that point,  giggling stupidly, I had to admit that I don't have a husband. [God only knows what the poor man talking to me at the time made of THAT comment - suffice it to say he wandered off pretty quickly!]

She nodded [rather sympathetically I thought] and moved back to her own position once more.

Finally another man came to talk. He was a doctor, an anaesthetist to be precise and we had an interesting discussion about medicine and patients' perceptions of operations due to programmes such as Holby City and Casualty.

Something about his body language clicked in my head and I knew he was married to the lady on my left. So stifling the laughter which threatened to bubble up and overwhelm me I said to her. "Is this your husband?"

And do you know what she did? To her credit she beamed me the brightest smile I have seen in a long time. So maybe for some, marriage works. Maybe I'll get to find out about that one day. Maybe I'll even be back at the Belle Vue and will see that same lovely lady and I will say, "look, finally THIS is my husband!"

In the meantime - Happy Reading.

Pictures will be posted as soon as I am able.

For more information about what Gem Media can do for you contact events@gemmedia.co.uk


Special thanks to http://www.gemmedia.co.uk and

The Belle Vue Bar and Grill. Chic, modern, friendly and with free parking.

This is a really quick post as I am on my way out - no not to an author talk or book signing but a proper night out with friends! I have almost forgotten what that's like!

Anyway thank you very much to Amazon who are currently sponsoring advertising across the internet of my books - as the Australians would say 'good on you mate!'

In addition to this, I have been invited to the launch party of The Belle Vue in Edgbaston, courtesy of Gem Media. I am really looking forward to this event! I might even dust off a fancy dress :)

Until then, happy reading!

The Boy Who Rescues Pigeons

I promised you a snippet so here it is.

He reached under the bed for the laptop. It felt strangely wrong for it to be in his room in the middle of the night, when darkness patrolled outside the window like an intruder, seeking a way into the deepest vestiges of his soul.

He stared at it for a moment without switching it on, willing himself to replace it under the bed and knowing he did not have the courage to do so. He couldn't know his father and not know him at the same time. He could not know his name, his identity, his face and leave it at that, not follow it up in any way. He was not brave enough to face the world alone after all!

He pressed the on button and watched the computer flick into life. Without conscious thought he googled how to contact his dad. Twitter seemed the most obvious and instant way since it was listed that his dad had at least two accounts there.

Speedily he signed up for the social media site and listed his details sketchily. It didn’t matter that he had no picture listed and nothing about himself, he wasn’t interested or intending to post tweets; the account was merely a means to an end.

He took a few minutes to investigate the site, seeing how it worked and how he could use it to achieve what he desired. There was a direct messaging service, where he could send a message to his dad’s account without releasing it to the general Twitter followers. He clicked on the button.

Two small rectangles popped up. In the first he typed his dad’s Twitter user name, bringing up the face which was becoming more familiar to him than his own. He moved the cursor to the next box. There was a number next to the box, 140, which he presumed stood for the amount of characters he would be allowed to use.

How could he say what he wanted in 140 characters? He doubted he would even be able to get the message out in 140 words let alone characters! And what was he to write? How should he begin? With some explanation about who he was? Too boring! His dad would probably not even bother to read further.

What if he said he liked his films? Surely that was something every actor liked to hear. But it reeked of a suck-up! He didn’t want to suck-up to him, he wanted him to know that he was his father!

He positioned his hands over the keyboard. He was over-thinking it. When he overthought anything it always turned out badly. Perhaps it was best to just go with impulse or gut reaction, whatever it was called. He typed.

‘Hi. You don’t know me. But you knew my mother, Anna Pertwee. I know that you will remember her even though it was a long time ago.’

 Poor Lucas ...he is in for a shock!

Happy Reading!