It's raining outside. Cold, wet raindrops keep bashing themselves against my window as if demanding to be let in.

The weather is no reflection on how I feel, however it does seem to be raining in sympathy with the problems of my main characters, in my newest, unfolding novel.

Fran is discovering there is a lot more going on around her than she had thought possible. Just how much is one woman supposed to take before she breaks, I wonder?

Here in this excerpt that I have just written, she finds out another unpalatable truth...

Danni was silent but her eyes betrayed a determination Fran was sure wouldn’t be shaken. How do I get through to her? “Look I know that you will want to see him, but as your mother I need to know where you are and who you are with.” She tilted the girl's chin so that their eyes were level. “Do you understand that?”

Some of the fire left the girl’s face but the unrelenting sorrow and hurt which replaced it, was no easier for Fran to see. “What if we agreed when would be suitable for you to see him?”

Danni blinked slowly and when her eyes reopened they seemed somehow different to Fran, as if a sly intelligence lurked there.

 

Happy Reading!

OOOOHHH!

I am so, so excited!

Last night I was at the BritAsia awards ceremony, in a VIP seating area at a table close to the stage, after a session of meeting and greeting the stars.

What a wonderful experience! And I met some fabulously creative people. More about that later when the photos arrive.

Today, I am brimming over with excitement at my invitation to attend the Women of the Year Luncheon Awards next week, both for the event and accompanying meal and also to perform book signings. http://www.womenoftheyear.org.uk/ Little 'ol me who walks the dogs in her scruffy jeans, no makeup on and her hair in a pony tail...who'd have thought it?

So today, when I am painting the ceilings of my filthy new house and cleaning the bathrooms of my not-quite-so-filthy old house, I shall be singing to myself. And the tune I will be singing, well I'll let you guess that one!

Happy Reading! x

The sun will come out tomorrow...

Tomorrow I shall be attending the BritAsia TV World Music Awards...I am rather excited.

I'll let you know how it goes!

Another Review.

On the eve of the official Split Decision launch, here is another review:-

"What can I say... I could not put Split Decision down. From the moment I began reading it to the end it held my attention 100%. I was totally engrossed in the book. The Characters were amazing and I felt so emotional at times when reading that I felt I was Natalie. Your storytelling was sheer brilliance. Would love to see this televised as an English drama. It was the perfect book for me to take on holiday." Catherine Phelan.

The Letter

How do you tell your daughter that years ago her father had an affair? Here in the chapter I am currently writing, Fran attempts to break the news to Danni...

“Years ago, when you were only little… your dad and I weren’t getting along. I was busy with you and my mother was ill. Your dad was going through a difficult time at work and having to work away a lot. I guess both of us were distracted.” She wanted to add that her distractions had been more valid than Jim’s, but didn’t.

“What are you saying mum? That dad left you for a while?” Danni asked, her voice a surprised staccato.  

Fran shook her head. She wished it had been that simple. “He didn’t leave. Well not physically…” she clenched her fingers into her palms, feeling the nails bite into the soft flesh, willing the pain to carry her through the awful news she was about to impart.

I hope you are enjoying keeping up with this emerging story.

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.

Political Envy

Last night, in a social setting, I met the lovely Gisela Stuart, MP. I haven't met too many MPs before, so I guess like most of the population I had a preconceived notion of what might lie beneath the public façade.
 
What I found was a thoroughly nice lady who was able to hold her own without sacrificing her feminine touch. I was really impressed.
 
So I was delighted when she expressed an interest in Split Decision and left with a signed copy. What can I say? Apart from all her other attributes, she clearly has excellent taste.
 
Let's hope she really enjoys it!
 
Happy Reading Gisela!

The Finer Things in Life.

Two nights ago with a glass of fine champagne in my hand, I watched the sun set from the balcony of the penthouse suite in the Rotunda.

With a view across the city which was completely unhampered by the waist-high glass safety-barrier, I watched the sky turn crimson in the distance, before finally slipping beyond the edge of the world and I was reminded of a paragraph in one my Owners books:

    "The horizon had been full of promise. Now the pink sky which hovered overhead reminded her of nothing more than a sky which harboured malevolent intent.
    Under that watchful blood sky, she made her way back to her group of fellow conspirators."

Luckily there was no malevolent intent in the real situation, in fact nothing could have been further from the truth.

But as gorgeous as the interior of the apartment was, with floor to ceiling windows in every room affording that unbroken view, it was Birmingham itself which captivated me, drawing me out onto the balcony and holding me there as witness to its strange beauty.

When I had arrived it had been light and people scurried across the ground below like ants, some hurrying, some mooching along with unknown agendas - all of them criss-crossing each other's paths in a constant stream. Steel and glass buildings reflected the sunlight and there was a sense that Birmingham, once old and tired, had found a fresh lease of life in its new, modern, structures. And yet in the distance there was a lush greenness of leafy suburbs, a thing I hadn't anticipated at all, such was the wide-ranging view available.

Once the sun went down everything changed and the city came to life in a new and even more exciting fashion, neon lights flickering and dancing across the horizon. And still I stood outside, entranced and mesmerised in a way I hadn't expected to be.

So if you do decide to follow my footsteps to stand on the balcony, champagne in your hand, take a moment to look down...one of those scurrying little ants might just be me!

A new review.

Here is the latest Split Decision review which has come in:

"Split Decision is one of the most enticing books I have ever read. I couldn't wait to immerse myself in it every night. An absolutely brilliant book! Thoroughly recommended!"

 

Zena Weeks, Special Projects Manager, England Athletics.

 

 

I'm so glad you liked it Zena! Thank you!

 

Poor, poor Fran...

I really feel for the main character in my latest book. Her name is Fran and her husband has just died under the most horrible of circumstances. But as if that is not enough, misery upon misery is being heaped on the poor woman's shoulders.

Here is the paragraph I have just written:

 The house seemed wrong in every way possible. It felt too big, too empty and too full of memories - sad and happy ones – and it seemed that no distinction between the two could ever make her smile again.

There was a letter lying on the mat. Addressed to Jim, it would of course no longer be opened by the person for whom it had been intended. Fran bent and picked it up, running her finger over the little plasticised window which allowed the name and address of the recipient to show through, as if some lingering trace of Jim could be found in those printed words.

The white envelope was not bulky, containing perhaps only one printed sheet. She carried it with her into the kitchen.


Oh dear God, I know what she is about to read in that letter...

Just so you know what I look like... sometimes, on a good day, when I am wearing make-up and am happy...

Women of the Year Awards!

I am so excited I can barely stand still!

I have been asked to do a book signing at the  Women of the Year Awards ceremony!

http://www.womenoftheyear.uk.com/

When I did this before, a couple of years ago, there were a multitude of famous faces at the event and this year will be no exception, with Michelle Mone as this year's speaker, along with Baroness Stedman-Scott as keynote speaker.

It can be daunting chatting to these impressive, powerful ladies who have made such a huge impact on industry and commerce, as well as on our daily lives, in ways that we often don't stop to think about, as role models and innovators in their fields.

Indeed the event will be rammed with women who have risen to the top of their particular industries, and for them, there can be nothing better than knowing that they got there on their own merits. I hope one day I will be joining their ranks!

But it is Ms Mone who I am most eager to chat to, both as a woman and as a fellow Glaswegian... I wonder what her particular reading-taste will prove to be...

I'll keep you posted!

A Little Bit...

Here is a little bit from book I am currently working on. Such a hard chapter to write...such huge emotions...


“Sometimes towards the end,” she hesitated, “he was almost like a baby. I had to change him in the middle of the night. Either he was drenched in a sulphurous sweat or he had wet himself in his delirium…it wouldn’t have been right to involve his sister when he was like that,” she ended sadly.
“I wasn’t just his sister, I was his twin Fran,” Alison reminded her, as if she might have forgotten.
“Yes I know. And that was why he made me promise not to let you see him like that…” Just how many revelations were going to come out this fateful night, Fran wondered.
I have a splitting headache from the tension of writing this chapter and my heart is broken.

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/

A Little Bit of What You Fancy...

You know you want it.

It's what you have been waiting for, for so long.

Now it's here.

And you can have it...

Finally!

Be at the Artwork Café, Edgbaston, B15 on Sept. 30th from 6-8ish.

It's about my book launch... what did you think I was talking about? ;)

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.

Music , Maestro, Please!

I have a wide and varied musical taste, ranging from the delightfully soporific Annie's Song by John Denver, through the unashamedly raucous ACDC's Back in Black, to the almost ethereal Jar Of Hearts by Christina Perri. But more often than not it is the lyrics of a song which draws me to it, or perhaps a haunting melody, or in some instances a wonderful combination of the two. Seldom is it the actual voice of the performer which I find captivating.

There are of course instances where this is untrue, but these tend to be reserved for the likes of Celine Dion and Neil Diamond - in other words, unique voices which are so sublime, ringing out so true with every note delivered, that they cannot help but make me stop and listen, not just to the words and the tune, but to the particular tone and timbre of the voice itself.

You may recall that I was  holiday in Spain recently. Whilst there I saw a number of tribute acts but it was one in particular which caught my attention. Wendy Manfield WAS Tina Turner, from the pronounced trademark bottom strut, right down to the mannerisms and the gaudy outfits, and I loved every minute of it, although I must confess to not being a huge Tina Turner fan.

So what captivated me so much about Wendy's performance? It was the realisation that Wendy didn't need to be Tina, that in fact she had a much superior voice of her own. Having performed her show as Tina and returned to the stage after thunderous applause, she gave an encore - but not as the superstar.

Instead she sang two Queen anthems in a way that I have never heard them performed. Passion infused her powerful voice and informed it in such a way that I almost believed her to be the originator of the song. She was nothing short of amazing. And I got to wondering why. Why she was performing as someone else when she was so, so much better than that. So here are the answers...

Wendy where are you originally from?
I'm from Darwen in Lancashire.

How long have you been singing and where did you start?

I started singing professionally 25 years ago.(That's scary.) In the working men's clubs, mainly around the North West of England - Blackpool, Manchester, Liverpool and Yorkshire. Under the wings of my aunt Kay; we were a duo called Diamonds. There was a lot to learn back then. Buying equipment, spending countless days learning how to work it. Going to musicians' studios to get all the sheet music transposed. (There were hardly any backing tracks when i started.)

Working with backing tracks gives a singer more freedom, as it's impossible for keyboards and drums to reproduce sounds exactly on the night. But when a singer plays with musicians, it's uplifting, it makes you sing better and you begin to learn your craft again. You don't realize that you have become a little lazy with backing tracks.

My mother was originally an opera singer and she was insistent that I went for singing lessons. I was amazed how much there was, and still is, to learn. There is always something to inspire you with music.

How did you become a Tina Turner tribute?

I was asked by the owner of a venue here in Benidorm. "Tributes put bums on seats," as he put it, "It's what people want."

Are you a fan?

YES I am a fan. Sorry to say I never saw her live... I love her energy and soulfull rock voice.

How difficult is it to mimic that voice?

Tina's higher register is hard to reach. Some people have said she screams...Ha! You trying screaming and sounding as good as her! Hmmm.

When you start to study a singer you begin to realise just how great they are. I have nothing but respect for Tina Turner. You have to give 100% when doing Tina...because that's what she did every time she recorded or set foot on a stage...you can hear it in her voice.

How long have you been in Spain?

12 years. It's gone very fast and I have seen a lot of changes.....its quiet a transient place.

Do you ever perform as yourself?

Funny you should ask me that question... I only do Tina once a week. My own act is a mix of taking the mickey out of myself in a cheesy kind of way. I do some songs straight. Some people are ready for the funny stuff, while others are just waiting to hear me sing. You can't be everyone's cup of tea. That much I have learned. I just try my best at the venues and I work to entertain everyone. If I was to perform as my self singing the covers that I love to sing, I would probably lose some of the audience.
 

What do you hope the future holds?

If I get off my lazy behind I hope to learn an instrument, perhaps the piano or guitar, so that I can play and sing music -no sequins, no gimmicks, just music.

Can you ever see yourself coming back to Britain?

Honestly? I don't know. I guess, never say never.

With grateful thanks to Wendy Manfield - a real class performer.

 

"3 o'clock in the morning...

and it looks like it's going to be another sleepless night..." to quote Crystal Gayle.

I have been up since three, penning a very painfully sad chapter in my newest novel. It was so sad in fact, that now I have written it, I am utterly bereft.

That's the trouble with writing.The emotions which lend themselves to good writing are draining and so now I am tired. I don't often get up in the middle of the night to write but I had started the chapter earlier today and when I couldn't sleep, I knew what I had to do.

Now it is just after six and I will get up, have breakfast, see the children off to school and begin editing another of my books which is due for publication. Ah back to the good old routine! I love it! Yawn...

Happy Reading.

The Letter

Today I have started back to work and am so relieved. As I told you before, I have to edit a couple of books already written prior to their publication, but I also want to write a book I started some time ago. The story is about a woman whose husband dies of cancer. But just before he does, he reveals something which tears her whole world apart...

Here is a little snippet:-

The Letter

Chapter 1

The house sucked at her energy. It drained her like a thirsty hiker on a hot summer’s day. She could feel it pulling at the blood in her veins, causing tidal waves of that vibrant red life-force to course through her to a never-achieved destination, moving ever onwards, ceaselessly searching out its well-worn pathway.

But of course it was not the house which drained her so. It was the situation within in.

Jim waited for her in another room. Weak and tired, waiting was what he did best now. Waiting was actually all that was left to him. Fran wondered what was left to her. What would be left when Jim was finally gone? A thin smell of sickness which seemed to have pervaded the entire house? The ripe smell of a cancer unchecked, which had permeated the paint and wallpaper of their bedroom? Was that all there would be?

Or would there be memories too? Memories which would linger to haunt her as if the images and sounds were captured within the porous brickwork and plaster, ready to be replayed whenever the whim took them?

It didn’t bear thinking about.  But she didn’t really need to ponder on it. The situation played itself out and she was just a bit player in every scene, the one who was necessary to breathe a little life into each act, to make it real and believable. The only one who would be left standing after the credits rolled and the curtains closed for that final time.

Funny how even after all these months it still didn’t seem real. She flicked the switch on the kettle and waited for it to boil. The kitchen seemed darker than usual and she glanced at the wall clock by the side of the back door. It was in the shape of a cow, mottled black and white paint depicting its legs and head, its torso taken up by the clockface which showed the hour to be six. But six am or pm? She genuinely did not know. The months and weeks since Jim’s diagnosis had blurred into one and in these last few days even the days and nights seemed interchangeable.

So if you enjoyed that little bit, take a look at the books I have already published - you won't regret it.

 

Happy Reading!

 

 

 

Multiverse Me

Have you heard the theories about us living not in a universe, but instead in a multiverse? Many scientists now believe that we live [the me who is writing this post and the you who is reading it] in just one version of countless parallel realities.

It's what fiction writers have always expected of course and the idea has accounted for numerous books and films over the years, where characters suddenly find some sort of portal into another world that's slightly askew from their own.

But according to science, there are not just a couple of these worlds but continuously new and emerging ones, to add to the myriad already spun off. So in one of these worlds for example Carmen Capuano would be married to the first guy who ever asked her, on another there would be a career woman, etcetera, etcetera, each world spun off from the path not taken in this life.

This is in fact the premise of Split Decision - a showing of the other way, the road not taken by Natalie as she made her choice between the two guys. To find out what happens, you will of course need to read the book.

But what concerns me here are all those other versions of me. I feel for them, I really do. They are me and yet not me. Are they happy? Did this current me, the one who writes and is unmarried and lives in Bromsgrove, did she make the right choices?

Strangely enough its a vague worry. I cannot know their circumstances or whether they are ok or not, and indeed I guess in some worlds I would have already died from some illness or accident. And there is a truth that if these theories are correct, in a way it doesn't matter if I make the right choices in life, because that means that some other version of me does, although that might be taking altruism a little too far.

The weirdest thought that all of this has dredged up, is which one is the original me? Am I the one who was born and from that moment spawned a zillion other worlds with my choices and actions? Or instead am I created by the original, spun off like a cheap rendition from that very first split in my own life, perhaps the first childhood sickness I had or even the first time my pregnant mother rushed across a busy road and narrowly avoided an accident?

I will never know. But to those other Carmen Capuanos I would say this if I could, "Good luck and stay strong".

Happy Reading.