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Guest Blog from Nell Peters: All Hallows Eve and so on….

On October 31, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, crime, Fiction, Jenny Kane

It’s the last day of the month, which only means one thing on my blog – its time to hand over to the fantastic Nell Peters…

Good morning/afternoon/evening, folks – and thank you for inviting me back, Jenny!

Apart from it being the three hundred and fifth day of the (leap) year, the most obvious thing to say about the last day of October is that it’s Halloween, or All Hallows Eve, preceeding All Saints’ Day on November 1^st. While it has a dodgy rep for witches, scary monsters, ghouls and ghosts, and creepy things that go bump in the night (in Mexico it’s called Day of the Dead), the celebration is actually rooted in the Celtic holiday, Samhain. That’s not a person, but a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter, the darker half of the year. To symbolically lighten these months, lanterns were originally made from hollowed-out turnips in the UK (arguably the best possible use of that particular root veg), but when Irish immigrants in America found that pumpkins were more readily available there, the tradition evolved.

ghost

Halloween became a big thing over the pond and one of the most commercially exploited days of the year, along with Mothers’ Day (when I lived in Montreal, a friend was given not a measly bunch of flowers, but a top of the range dishwasher!) and Thanksgiving. British retailers haven’t been slow on the uptake either, with costumes (whatever happened to an old white sheet with eye holes cut in?), plastic collecting buckets for loot shaped like pumpkins, scary masks and decorations and a whole host of other tat. I expect you can buy Happy Halloween greeting cards too, if you’ve a mind – after all, when Happy Divorce cards started to roll off the printing presses, good taste flapped out the window faster than a vampire bat that’s spotted a blood bank.

carved-pumpkins

Some pumpkin lanterns are truly works of art and so intricately carved, it must take the whole of October at least to complete the design – imagine your weapon of choice slipping at the last millimetre and all that work going to waste. We’ve never been big on Halloween in this house, but I pay lip service to the day by attacking the smallest pumpkin I can find with an apple corer to make eyes and a large knife to slice a zigzag mouth – sorted. They are horrid to scoop out, with all that slimy stringy stuff (reminds me of Donald Trump’s hair, and that of his separated-at-birth twin, Animal from the Muppets) and zillions of sticky seeds that get everywhere. I’ve only actually eaten it once – at a Thanksgiving weekend party in Toronto (in October, unlike the US version in November), when the host insisted I give it a go. Pumpkin pie may well qualify as one of the most hideous foods going, even worse than oysters (tried at a champagne breakfast) and whelks (I’d rather stick needles in my eyes!) Maybe a soup tastes better, and I have seen some quite adventurous pumpkin recipes on social media lately, but I think I’ll give them a miss – thanks anyway.

animal

Usually I buy a fun bag of sweeties to hand out to any waifs and strays who arrive on the doorstep, but it’s all a bit of a leap from the nineteenth century children in Scotland and Ireland, who went from door-to-door praying for souls, or performing for money or cakes on All Hallows Eve. My faith in modern day Trick or Treaters was somewhat tarnished years ago, when one of the little buggers stole the pumpkin lantern I’d put at the front door to make them feel welcome. Now our lantern sits safely in the back garden on one of the tables, to radiate its radiance when we have the family here for a Bonfire Night party – and I bought life-sized glow-in-the-dark plastic skeletons to string up in the trees, when I remember, to combine the two events.

Of people born on this day, we continue the horror theme with Jimmy Savile (1926), whose lifespan of almost eighty-five years (he died two days before his birthday) encompassed more debauched behaviour than the folk of Sodom and Gomorrah on performance enhancing drugs. And I wonder which genius felt he was a worthy candidate for a knighthood? Perhaps Jim fixed it? Just goes to show you can make a pretty good job of fooling nearly all the people all the time, by wearing shiny tracksuits, stupid glasses, having a ridiculous haircut, and saying ‘now then, now then’ at every given opportunity, while waggling a fat cigar. Let’s leave him to rot …

Much nicer people (not that I knew them of course, but I feel it’s a very safe assumption) to be born this day were Dick Francis (1920) – he of steeplechase jockey fame and author of crime novels set around all things gee-gee, and Daphne Oxenford (1919), actress.

Daphne Oxenford

To those of us who are of a more … erm … mature vintage, Daphne will forever be the (radio) voice of Listen with Mother, broadcast daily Monday to Friday at 13.45, if I remember correctly. For me, that was fifteen minutes of sheer bliss, lost in my imagination – although without ‘Mother’, who would always find something better to do. On TV, Daffers clocked up an impressive list of credits, including Coronation Street, The Sweeney, To the Manor Born, Midsomer Murders, Doctor Who, and many, many more.

More recently, international rugby scrum half Matt Dawson was born on this day in 1972. He was a member of the England team who won the 2003 Rugby World Cup in Australia. At that time, #3 and 4 sons (plus the OH on the rare occasions he was around) were playing (grass) hockey for local team, the Pelicans, and all the players and their families went to the clubhouse to watch the final, played against the host nation.

Jonny Wilkinson

Matt Dawson

Apart from a St Patrick’s Day I spent in Glasgow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much beer swilled so early in the morning! Not by me, I hasten to add. With the score at an even 17-17 the game was into extra time with just twenty-six seconds left on the clock, when that nice Jonny Wilkinson kicked a drop goal. As the funny-shaped ball sailed through the air toward the posts, every bottom left its seat, every neck craned and everyone stopped breathing in that clubhouse – I think even the beer remained temporarily undrunk in glasses – for what seemed like forever, but could only have been seconds in reality. And when the score notched up to 20-17, the roof left the rest of the building far behind. More beer …

While #3 played on the wing, #4 played in goal for Pelicans – quite a dangerous position when you are punching well above your age in a male team full of strapping, athletic brutes. His kit was unbelievably expensive and so bulky with wall-to-wall padding, it was dragged around in a 5’ long kit bag with wheels one end. He needed help getting it on because of the sheer weight, and he looked like a brightly-coloured deep sea diver (the helmet with metal caging over his face helped here) when standing in his goal, trying to look menacing. I was always quite surprised he could move at all, let alone with any speed, when one of those evil, hard white balls was heading toward his net and him at the speed of light. I’d have run a mile.

hockey-goalie

In contrast, when we played hockey at my all-gels school (not through choice, I might add) the field players wore regular PE kit – stupid culottes, knee length socks, an aertex shirt and (but only in blizzard conditions, when the Gym Mistress strutted around in a huge sheepskin coat and fur-lined boots) a tracksuit top. Our regulation hockey boots were glorified black plimsolls with circles of rubber to protect ankles – and the only concession for the goalie was a pair of very unattractive (and no doubt pretty cumbersome) cricket pads to protect her shins. I played right wing because I could run fast and it was much easier to pass to the left wing, so I could trundle up and down and amuse myself for an hour or so, without having to hit the wretched ball.

cabbage-patch

The school was in Twickenham, home of rugby (do you see what I did there?) Every morning my friends and I would swarm from the train station en route for the school gates, passing a pub called the Cabbage Patch. The name comes from the early nickname for the now magnificent Twickenham Rugby Ground, after all-round sportsman and property entrepreneur, William Williams (whose parents obviously had no imagination whatsoever), was asked by the RFU to find a home ground for the England game in 1906. But they were so doubtful about his choice of agricultural land, it was scornfully dubbed ‘Billy Williams’ Cabbage Patch.’ Despite difficulties, two covered stands were eventually built east and west of the pitch and the ground opened on 9 October 1909.

Twickernham

Less than two thousand spectators watched the new home team, Harlequins (long ago banished to a much smaller ground the other side of the dual carriageway), beat Richmond 14-10. The railway station in Twickenham taken so much for granted by my friends and I, was only built originally to bring in rugby fans, as the ground grew in size and the game in popularity.

Billy Williams

webb-ellis-cup

Another pub in the town was in more recent years renamed the William Webb Ellis, after the Rugby School pupil who supposedly ‘invented’ the game, when he caught the ball and ran with it, during a football game in 1823. Tsk! The Rugby World Cup is named the Webb Ellis Cup after William, who was at the school as a foundationer – i.e. he attended fee-free, after his army-widowed mother moved with her sons to live within a ten mile radius of the Rugby Clock Tower to meet the criteria. Good for her! Had she not upped sticks, on the £30 pension she received following her husband’s death in the Peninsular War, she would never have been able to afford such a good education for her boys. William became a clergyman and his older brother, Thomas, a surgeon.

William Webb Ellis

Out of season, the Rugby Ground is used for other things – when I was a kid, I remember every few years hordes of Jehovah’s Witnesses would descend from all over the world to camp there for a convention lasting several days. I don’t expect the Cabbage Patch noticed an upsurge in trade though, as drinking is only allowed very much in moderation – as are music, parties and dancing. One of the DinLs was brought up as a JW, but strayed many years ago – possibly after she found vodka comes in litre bottles. She’s also heavily into Christmas, Easter and birthdays, none of which are celebrated by those of the faith – certainly cheaper that way! We had a bit of a worrying time a few months ago, when her second child was – like his big sister – born very early and by an emergency caesarean section. Because she and #2 son aren’t actually married, her parents are still technically her next of kin – so it was very fortunate that no permission had to be sought for a blood transfusion, which is a definite JW no-no. William (another one!) is now eight months old and thriving, in case you were wondering …

Rock concerts are also held at the ground – including over the years local bands like the Rolling Stones, The Who and Genesis. I went to junior school with Phil Collins for a while until he transferred to stage school, but sadly I don’t remember him – and it’s always possible he doesn’t remember me too well either.

phil-collins-genesis

Hang on! I do believe his autobiography was published just recently – maybe I’ll nip over to Amazon and see if I get a mention. You think?

Toodles!

***

Author.to/NellPeters

All of Nell’s books can be found on amazon, and at all good book retailing sites.

nell-peters-books

***

Another fabulous end of the month blog!

Many thanks Nell,

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

Guest Post: Twists and mystery in A Year of Light and Shadows, by Helena Fairfax

By Jenny Kane

On October 27, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Fiction

I’m delighted to welcome Helena Fairfax to my blog today, to talk about her brand new book, A Year of Lights and Shadows.

Over to you Helena…

This time of year, when the nights are drawing in and the days seem to be eternally shrouded in gloomy mist, is traditionally full of mystery, mischief, and trickery. I live in Yorkshire, and the tradition of “Trick or Treat,” which takes place on Hallowe’en, is more treats than tricks in our part of the world. Hallowe’en is for children in cute fancy dress, and if we’ve run out of sweets to give them, we don’t really expect the “trick” to follow; at most, just a look of disappointment.

Mischief Night in Yorkshire is different. It takes place on 4^th November, the night before Bonfire Night, and it’s a time for proper mischief. Householders can wake up in the morning to find broken eggs on their car windscreens, treacle on the gate handle, and flour down the garden path. For mischievous teenagers, it’s a night of fun. For everyone else, it’s a right royal pain…!

A season of tricks and deception is the perfect time to release A Year of Light and Shadows – a collection of two romantic suspense novellas and a short story in which trickery and deception play a major role. I can’t give away too many of the twists without spoiling the plots but I can say that the stories revolve around the fictional country of Montverrier – a principality so tiny that the inhabitants have come to rely on sly cunning rather than brute strength. My heroine, Lizzie, begins to realise that the people of Montverrier are a force to be reckoned with…

a-year-of-light-and-shadows-cover

Here is the blurb to the anthology:

A Year of Light and Shadows contains three romantic mysteries in one volume.

Palace of Deception

From the heat of the Mediterranean….

When the Princess of Montverrier goes missing, Lizzie Smith takes on the acting job of her life. Alone and surrounded by intrigue in the Royal Palace, she relies on her quiet bodyguard, Léon. But who is he really protecting? Lizzie…or the Princess?

The Scottish Diamond

To the heart of Scotland…

Home in Scotland, Lizzie begins rehearsals for Macbeth, and finds danger stalking her through the streets of Edinburgh. She turns to her former bodyguard, Léon, for help – and discovers a secret he’d do anything not to reveal…

A Question by Torchlight

A story of mystery and romance…

The approach of Hogmanay in Edinburgh means a new year and new resolutions. Lizzie and Léon have put their year of danger behind them. But something is still troubling Léon, and Lizzie fears the worst…

***

BUY LINKS: A Year of Light and Shadows is available on pre-order on Amazon: http://mybook.to/lightandshadows

and on Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/a-year-of-light-and-shadows

and other major e-retailers. The print version is coming soon!

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Social Links

If you’d like to get in touch, or find out more about my books, writing, and photos of my settings or the Yorkshire moors where I live, please follow my newsletter by subscribing here: http://eepurl.com/bRQtsT

All new subscribers to my newsletter will receive a FREE copy of Palace of Deception – the first book in the collection A Year of Light and Shadows

You can also visit me on my website at www.helenafairfax.com, or on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/HelenaFairfax/, or Twitter https://twitter.com/HelenaFairfax

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Author Biography Helena Fairfax writes engaging contemporary romances with sympathetic heroines and heroes she’s secretly in love with. Her novels have been shortlisted for several awards, including the Exeter Novel Prize, the Global Ebook Awards, the I Heart Indie Awards, and the UK’s Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme Award. Helena is a British author who was born in Uganda and came to England as a child. She’s grown used to the cold now, and these days she lives in an old Victorian mill town in the north of England, right next door to the windswept Yorkshire moors. She walks this romantic landscape every day with her rescue dog, finding it the perfect place to dream up her heroes and her happy endings.

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Do you have a Mischief Night in your part of the world? Or any other local traditions? If you have any comments at all, I’d love to hear from you!

Thanks very much for having me today, Jenny. It’s been fun revisiting the devious inhabitants of Montverrier!

***

Huge thanks for such a great blog Helena,

Happy reading,

Jenny x

Guest Post by Jackie Kabler: Writing What You Know…Or Not?

By Jenny Kane

On October 20, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, crime, Fiction, Jenny Kane

It’s guest blog time! I’m delighted to welcome fellow Accent Press author, Jackie Kabler, to my place today. Jackie’s second novel is out now…but how much of her media career influenced it…

Over to you Jackie…

WRITING WHAT YOU KNOW…OR NOT?

As a relatively new author – my first novel, The Dead Dog Day, was published by Accent Press last year – I had the thrill recently of appearing for the first time at a literary festival, where I was delighted to be asked to chair a panel discussion. The topic was ‘Writing what you know…or not?’, and the panel was made up of a great mix of authors with widely differing views, which made for a lively hour!

I thought it was a really interesting topic. Some of the writers there considered writing about what you already know to be the ultimate in laziness, arguing that being a fiction writer is about being creative, not just about regurgitating facts and experiences from your own life. Others, including a former social worker who now writes novels based around her experiences, argued that having such a wealth of knowledge about a specialist area lends realism and authenticity to our writing. I say our, because my current series of novels, the Cora Baxter Mysteries, is set in a television newsroom, a world in which I worked as a news reporter for twenty years.

jackie-k-1

My decade on breakfast show GMTV provided such a wealth of material – some of it surreal, some of it shocking, much of it hilarious – that when I decided to attempt writing a novel it just made sense to me to use that material. And I’m glad I did – some of the nicest comments I’ve had from readers of my first book were about how fascinating it was to get an insider’s view of the not-as-glamourous-as-you-think world of breakfast TV. But am I just being lazy? Should I, as a creative person, be using my imagination more in my writing? It’s something I’ve been thinking about. I’m still working on the Cora Baxter series, but now I also have an idea for a psychological thriller which will definitely push me out of my comfort zone. So – should we write what we know, or not? What do you think?

***

The Deadline, the second in the Cora Baxter Mysteries series, is now available in paperback, e-book or audiobook format.

ttps://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01J448FDQ/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1

jackie-k-2

Bio-

Jackie Kabler is a journalist, TV presenter and author. Currently a presenter on shopping channel QVC, she signed a three-book deal with Accent Press in 2014 for a series of murder mysteries set in a television newsroom. She spent twenty years as a news reporter, including a decade on GMTV, followed by stints with ITV news, BBC news and Setanta Sports news. She lives in Gloucestershire with her husband, who is a local GP.

You can keep in touch with Jackie via her website www.jackiekabler.com, on Twitter at @jackiekabler or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/jackiekablerauthor

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Many thanks for such a great blog Jackie,

Happy reading everyone,
Jenny xx

Guest post from Cheryl Rees-Price: A Fascination With Murder

By Jenny Kane

On October 18, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, crime, Fiction

I’m delighted to welcome Cheryl Rees-Price to my place today to talk about her new novel, Frozen Minds. Just what is it about murder anyway…

Over to you Cheryl…

Recently I was asked to give a talk in my local library. Having worried that no one would turn up I was relieved when a bunch of people sat around the table seemingly interested to hear about my writing process. As I progressed through the talk I noticed a few eyes light up when I arrived at the subject of the murder weapon. I now had the room’s full attention as I displayed my reference book of poisons and weapons.

library

Following the talk the discussion soon turned to true crime and particularly a murder which occurred locally some 40 years ago. Some of my guests had a clear memory of the event. They remembered the shock and speculation that ran through the village. This turned to other murders that had occurred in various locations in wales, then followed a list of favourite crime authors. The age range of my audience varied but all agreed that they liked a good ‘whodunit’ or ‘thriller.’ This got me thinking about our general fascination with murder. Why do we find murder a source of entertainment?

We are surrounded by crime, true or fictional, on TV, in books, and newspapers. Most evenings you can turn on your television and find a detective series or true crime documentary. Have we become de-sensitised to murder? Or have we always had some morbid curiosity when it comes to crime? If we look back a few hundred years it was not much different. I read recently of stage production which puts all 74 of Shakespeare’s death scenes in one sitting. Imagine 74 in one evening! That certainly gives Midsomer some competition.

shakepeare

The Victorians were also known to be obsessed with crime and death, broadsheets were full of the gruesome details of Jack the ripper and then there was public executions, reportedly souvenirs such as copies of the death speech were sold.

So is it our sense of justice that draws us into world of murder? A need to see the perpetrator get caught and punished. This isn’t always the case in true crime. There are reportedly some 564 unsolved murders across the UK in the past ten years. That should be enough to make us stop and think, am I safe? Perhaps reading the details helps us get some perspective, we can make judgements on the victim, locality and circumstances to calculate the risks to our own lives.

When watching a crime drama or reading a crime book we can do so in a safe environment. We are in no danger and we can play along being detective, taking in the clues and guessing the final outcome. We can escape reality, and get a dose of adrenalin. We satisfy our inquisitive nature, being given full details from crime scene to arrest and a glimpse into the killers mind. All this is done as we drink tea with our feet up on the sofa.

reading

Whatever our reasons for enjoying a good crime story we still expect our happy ending. One where the killer is caught and locked up securely. Then we can feel safe as we curl up with a book on a cold winter’s night and seek our next thrill.

***

frozen-minds

FROZEN MINDS

When a man is found murdered at Bethesda House, a home for adults with learning difficulties, local people start to accuse the home’s residents of being behind the killing. The victim was a manager at the home, and seemingly a respectable and well-liked family man. DI Winter Meadows knows there’s more to the case than meets the eye. As he and his team investigate, Meadows discovers a culture of fear at the home – and some unscrupulous dealings going on between the staff. Does the answer to the case lie in the relationships between the staff and the residents – or is there something even more sinister afoot?

Links

Frozen Minds Amazon

Website

Facebook

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Bio

Cheryl Rees-Price was born in Cardiff and moved as a Young child to a small ex-mining village on the edge of the Black Mountains, South Wales, where she still lives with her husband, daughters and two cats. After leaving school she worked as a legal clerk for several years before leaving to raise her two daughters.

Cheryl returned to education, studying philosophy, sociology and accountancy whilst working as a part time book keeper. She now works as a finance director for a company that delivers project management and accounting services.

In her spare time Cheryl indulges in her passion for writing, the success of writing plays for local performances gave her the confidence to write her first novel. Her other hobbies include walking and gardening which free her mind to develop plots and create colourful characters.

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Many thanks for a great blog Cheryl,

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

Guest Post from Julie Archer: Cocktails, Rock Tales & Betrayals

By Jenny Kane

On October 12, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Fiction

I’m delighted to welcome Julie Archer to my blog today. Julie, who I had the good fortune to meet earlier this year (see below), has just released her first novel, and is hot on the heels of the second…

Hi Jenny! Thanks for having me over at your place.

I’m writing this blog post having just arrived at Stickwick Manor for a six-day retreat to recover from all the excitement of self-publishing my first novel. And to make a start on Book 2!

It was just over two years ago (ironically on the day I published the eBook) that I received an email from Urban Writers’ Retreat to say that I had been accepted on the Six Month Novel Programme. I remember doing a happy dance around my kitchen as I realised that someone thought I had a good story to tell.

The Six Month Novel Programme is something to help writers get to the end of that first draft, with the support of fellow writers. There is structure, accountability and cheerleading. And a place for you to vent about how things are going – good and bad. The Writer’s Playground was a massively important part of my writing journey and without it, I don’t think I would ever have finished Cocktails, Rock Tales & Betrayals. I have made some fantastic virtual and real friends here, all of whom have helped me along the way.

paperback

I wrote “The End” on the first draft in early March 2015. Then life got in the way. And I half-heartedly edited the manuscript a few times, shoved it in a cupboard, forgot about it, dusted it off, got a few people to beta read it, sent off a few agent submissions and generally didn’t love it.

Then I went to a World Book Night Event in Stoke Fleming, near Dartmouth where I live, in April this year.

The guest speaker was Lesley Pearce, who regaled us with tales of her writing journey – and penchant for Sean Bean. Other speakers included Tony Porter, Jane Gill, Mel Menzies and Steve Stevenson-Olds. Oh, and a lovely lady called Jenny Kane (on that day anyway!).

Hearing these authors talk about how they had got their works published, either traditionally or through the self-publishing route, really made me think. And it made me want to be standing up on that side of the table at World Book Night 2017 telling my own story!

Having already submitted to a few agents and received stock replies of ‘thanks, but no thanks’ and ‘keep writing’, I considered the self-publishing route. Not knowing what this might entail, I explored the possibilities out there and looked at “assisted self-publishing” versus “pure self-publishing”.

I went to Tiverton Literary Festival in June (Jenny may have mentioned it at World Book Night!) and attended a self-publishing workshop by Marissa Farrar. Although I hadn’t come across her work before, she has self-published a huge number of novels in different genres. And made the process work!

I also met Carrie Elks at a Stickwick retreat. As another self-published author she was also able to give me more invaluable advice on how to do things properly, what to focus on and where to start with things like a marketing plan and social media.

After listening to both of these inspiring ladies (and taking copious notes!), I was more determined than ever to get the book out there myself. I was in a fortunate position of being able to have the time and funds available to dedicate to the editing, cover design and marketing processes.

So I did it! I wrestled with Createspace, Kindle Direct Publishing and Draft2Digital and won!

What’s next? Book 2 of course! And along with my fellow chums in the Writer’s Playground, we are publishing an anthology of stories called ‘Off Track’. It will be available in mid-November in both eBook and print formats. All proceeds are going to charity, so it would be great if you could pick up a copy.

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Here’s a short extract from Cocktails, Rock Tales & Betrayals…

“She couldn’t stop thinking about Nate, how they had talked and talked. And connected. Had things been different, she would certainly have left him her number.

With a sigh, she put on her headphones and pulled a copy of Roccia from her bag and idly began flicking through the pages to pass the time. A short article in the news section about North Ridge caught her eye. She took a large sip of wine a read on, always interested to read about new local talent.

Recently signed to Numb Records, Alik Thorne and the rest of the Blood Stone Riot boys play their last gig at The Vegas in North Ridge next week before decamping to record their as yet untitled four-track EP at the renowned Newcomen Farm studios.

Set for release in the next few months, the band are also to film their first video to accompany the title track, “Bleed Like Cyanide,” in addition to playing a number of low-key showcase gigs in preparation for their debut appearance at the Wilde Park Festival.

Caro almost spat out her wine in shock as she re-read the article and studied the picture that accompanied it more closely. There was a black and white photograph of a singer, caught by the camera snarling into the microphone. He was wildly attractive, with chiselled cheekbones, eyes flashing with passion, and bare-chested, showing an array of tattoos and a nipple ring.

She knew she had seen him before.

Knew that she had recognised his voice from somewhere.

In the magazine shot, he was clean-shaven and his hair was shorter, and he wasn’t wearing glasses; looking totally different to the man she had left in bed that morning. But she certainly recognised the tattoos, having spent time up close and personal with them.

With him.

He had lied.

His name wasn’t Nate.

Suddenly Caro was acutely aware of the fact that she had just slept with one of the hottest new properties in rock music…

***

You can buy Cocktails, Rock Tales & Betrayals through the following platforms. Or you can pop into the Dartmouth Bookseller on Foss Street in Dartmouth and get one in person!

EBook available from Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble Nook, Kobo, Scribd.

Paperback available from Amazon or a special signed copy and merch pack from my website.

Bio

I grew up in Hampshire and lived in Reading before moving to the beautiful riverside town of Dartmouth in Devon. I still feel like I’m on holiday.  I trained as a journalist, then went into teaching (kept meeting the sixth form students in the pub, awkward!). After that I ‘fell’ into recruitment, spending more years there than I care to mention, where the most creative thing I did was to create a sexy top line for job adverts! Since moving to Devon, I set up my own business offering virtual administration and recruitment services, worked for an accommodation company and am currently moonlighting in the local bookshop…  Also, COYS, Cats, Metal. Underneath this preppy exterior beats the heart of a rock chick.

Website: www.juliearcherwrites.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/juliearcherwrites

Twitter: @julieoceanuk

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Thanks for a great blog Julie. Good luck with your first book!

Happy reading,

Jenny x

To continue or not to continue…Another Glass of Champagne

By Jenny Kane

On October 4, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Fiction, Jenny Kane, Romance

It was with a sense of excitement, tinged with sadness that, a couple of months ago, I celebrated the launch of Another Glass of Champagne. Obviously I was excited because the publication of any novel is a very special moment. To see the words you’ve woven together, that you’ve sweated over, sworn at, caressed, and loved, take their final form is a thrill that never fades. In a world where it is increasingly difficult to find a publisher that will risk its expenditure on printing your book, rather than leaving it as eBook only, the sense of joy is even greater.

And the touch of sadness? Well, that is because Another Glass of Champagne is the final instalment in the Pickwicks Coffee House adventures, and I’m going to miss Amy, Kit, Jack, Megan, Peggy and the crew. They have lived with me, in my head for five years now, and – at the risk of sounding a little unhinged- they have become my friends. (Obviously I don’t actually talk to them- really…OK, I do, but only a little bit.)

AGOC

Another Glass of Champagne follows on from my (bestselling!), novel, Another Cup of Coffee, and the seasonal Christmas novella’s Another Cup of Christmas, Christmas in the Cotswolds, and Christmas at the Castle. (You don’t need to have any of these earlier tales to enjoy Another Glass of Champagne)

Blurb

A warm-hearted, contemporary tale about a group of friends living in a small corner of busy London, by bestselling author Jenny Kane.

Fortysomething Amy is shocked and delighted to discover she s expecting a baby not to mention terrified! Amy wants best friend Jack to be godfather, but he hasn’t been heard from in months. When Jack finally reappears, he s full of good intentions but his new business plan could spell disaster for the beloved Pickwicks Coffee Shop, and ruin a number of old friendships…

Meanwhile his love life is as complicated as ever and yet when he swears off men for good, Jack meets someone who makes him rethink his priorities…but is it too late for a fresh start?

Author Kit has problems of her own: just when her career has started to take off, she finds herself unable to write and there is a deadline looming, plus two headstrong kids to see through their difficult teenage years…will she be able to cope?

A follow-up to the runaway success Another Cup of Coffee.

My affection for Amy, Kit and Jack comes, not just from the fact I have lived with their unique voices in my head for so long, but because each of them is based on a real person. When I wrote Another Cup of Coffee, it was with a sense of trepidation. If those whose essence I’d used to create the three lead characters in the book hadn’t liked the story, I would never have sent it to a publisher to be considered for publication in the first place.

Luckily for me, they were- and still are- incredibly supportive of me and my words. I am blessed to have friends who are willing to have their lives expanded into fiction on the page. In fact, it has been immense fun chatting with the ‘real’ Jack and seeing which direction he’d like his ‘on page’ persona to travel.

Ever since Another Glass of Champagne came out I’ve been privileged to be the recipient of many requests for more future episodes in the coffee shop saga.

Just one more story to see what happens next…. I can’t tell you how flattering that is- and I’m touched and very grateful that my readers care enough to want to know what happens after Another Glass of Champagne ended.

I can’t pretend I haven’t thought about it. It would be so easy to write another Pickwicks tale about the characters I love. To take Jack, Amy and Kit on “just one more” turn around the coffee shop block. It would also however, be the height of laziness on my part- and very probably a mistake.

We’ve all watched television shows that have done one series too many, and read book series that should never have tried to squeeze out one more novel. I don’t want that to happen to my Another Cup of…series.

I’d hate to hear anyone say, ‘those first Jenny Kane coffee shop books were good- but that last one wasn’t up to it really was it…’– I’d be mortified!

The little voice at the back of my head told me to call it quits after Champagne, and so I’ve done just that.

Will I live to regret the decision? Possibly. I’ve loved writing these books very much indeed.

Would I change my mind if a nice film or television producer came along with some screen ideas? Of course I would! Sometimes it’s fine to be a hypocrite!!

In the meantime, I shall continue to enjoy sharing the story of Amy, Kit and Jack’s interconnecting lives with you for as long as you’ll put up with me doing so- while also getting down to writing something new.

***

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Mini Extract

Sticking her head out of the bedroom window, Amy took a huge lungful of fresh air. Even though her morning sickness had passed with merciful speed, the aroma of the paint she and Paul were decorating their spare room with was making her decidedly queasy.

‘I thought this was supposed to be odourless paint?’

‘It is.’ Paul smiled at his wife as he put down the yellow paint-covered roller. ‘Why don’t you take a break? There’s not much left to do now.’

Amy leaned against the windowsill. ‘I’m fine – and anyway, it’s my own fault. I should never have got on my hands and knees to paint the skirting board. Thank you for not saying “I told you so,” by the way.’

Sinking onto the chair Paul had placed in the middle of the decorating chaos, Amy rubbed a palm over her bump in wonder. It seemed to be getting bigger by the hour, never mind by the day.

‘Have Phil and Rob managed to make any contact with Jack yet?’

‘Not a word.’ Paul scraped the remains of the paint from the roller tray onto his brush and dabbed at a patchy place on the wall. ‘Rob hasn’t had any replies to his texts and emails. He reckons Jack is probably somewhere really remote with no Wi-Fi.’

‘Hmmm. Well, I hope he resurfaces soon, or I’ll have had this baby before he even knows I’m expecting one.’

Paul stretched his arms above his head to loosen the muscles cramped from painting. ‘He’ll turn up sooner or later. Jack always does…’

***

If you’d like to discover how what Jack is up to, then you can find Another Glass of Champagne in all good bookshops and via online retailers (in paperback and e-format).

Buy Links

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Another+Glass+of+Champagne+Jenny+Kane

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/188-7813436-7626710?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Another+Glass+of+Champagne+Jenny+Kane

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

PS – You can pre-order the Jenny Kane Christmas Collection – which contains 3 seasonal Pickwick’s stories!

Guest Blog from Nell Peters: From Holly Golightly to Crippen…with a touch of Vidal…

By Jenny Kane

On September 30, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, crime, Fiction

It’s the end of the month- which means I’m handing over to the fabulous Nell Peters. This month’s blog is quite incredible- you have to read it! Where else could you read about notorious killers alongside a cockerel and Angela Lansbury?

Over to you Nell….

Thanks, Jenny, and hello everyone! Here we are again, happy as can be? It’s OK – I didn’t sing. Really; ask the neighbours, although you might want to wait until they’ve had their surgically-implanted earplugs removed.

One of the highlights for me this month has been the unexpected arrival of Vladimir – nothing to do with that rather scary Mr Putin, the Russian President who refuses to keep his shirt on, or a champion in something called League of Legends. I have no idea what that is, so let’s move swiftly on. My Vladimir arrived in a classy gift wrap of plastic bag and now resides in the garden. I have another fowl!

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But before anyone starts predicting murder most foul J, flying feathers and a bad case of feline indigestion, let me explain that Vladimir is a sculpted metal cockerel. Sons #3 and 4 gave him to me to soften the blow of losing Pavlova and Svetlana, whom I still miss – especially during my early morning garden strolls, when they would gambol up to me, noisily demanding food. The sons chose a black model over rusty red because it was closest to Svetlana’s plumage, and she was actually given to me, as opposed to Pavlova (a very attractive redhead) who turned up uninvited and decided to make herself at home – to rule the roost, as it were. As #4 said, ‘Let’s see how Killer Kat rocks this bad boy.’ So glad his school fees weren’t wasted…

30^th September marks the birth in 1924 of Truman Streckfus Persons – you don’t get many of those to the pound – better known later as Truman Capote, the American novelist, screenwriter, playwright, and actor. You didn’t get an invitation to his birthday bash? Me neither – possibly because he didn’t have our addresses, or he’s using the excuse he’s been dead for a while (a mere thirty-two years, which is really no defence at all). Never mind, we’ll treat ourselves to a birthday Breakfast at Tiffany’s in his honour, shall we? Gluten free croissants for me, please – aka cardboard cut-outs of the real thing. And I mean cardboard. I bet Connie Gustafson didn’t have such a boring diet. Who she? The character Holly Golightly started life as Connie, became Holiday Golightly and – I imagine much to Audrey Hepburn’s relief – ended up as Holly G.

Truman Capote

Capote was not averse to picking fights with others, one of whom was another celebrated US writer, Gore Vidal (bit of a competition for the weirdest name going on here, although Gore was born Eugene, so cheated a bit) – a man equally famous for his own feuds. Capote once said of Vidal, ‘I’m always sad about Gore – very sad that he has to breathe every day.’ To which Vidal retorted, ‘Truman made lying an art form – a minor art form.’ Boys, boys, less of the bitchy remarks! Play nicely, or I will have to rescind gobstopper privileges. It was Vidal who got the last laugh however, when Capote died many years before his own demise, and he described the death as, ‘A good career move.’ Meow! Probably just as well Twitter hadn’t been invented when they were at each other’s throats, or they’d never have written anything except 140 character insults.

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What else has happened on this day over the years? I’m so glad you asked.

My favourite event – and only because I have the most basic (some might say truly pathetic) sense of humour – is that Samuel Slocum patented the stapler in 1841. Now, I’ve never actually seen the TV programme Are You Being Served? just occasional excerpts – but even I know about Mrs Slocum’s pussy. So, apologies to Samuel S for not affording his magnificent invention the deference it deserves, and will everyone else please excuse me for a moment while I drag my mind from the smut gutter. Thank you.

Sticking with that oblique reference to broadcasting, in 1967, BBC Radio 1 hit the airwaves, launched with Tony Blackburn’s melodious tones and Flowers in the Rain, sung by The Move. (I now have the damned song rattling around my head!) I imagine all the ex-pirate DJs from Radios Caroline (as in Kennedy) and London that the Beeb employed for their new station, were mighty happy to have their feet back on terra firma at last – rampant seasickness can’t be too good for the creative juices. I wonder how many of those DJs are still around – and of those who have popped their clogs, how many were buried at sea for old times’ sake. Just asking.

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During various decades, The Flintstones, The Jerry Springer Show and Murder She Wrote debuted on this day. I love MSW – if I turn it on, it’s guaranteed to send #3 son scurrying for the sanctity of his room and his mega-huge TV, to watch something decent on Sky. Result! Awful mother? Me? Not at all! He returned to live rent free at the happy homestead for an agreed three month period over a year ago, ergo I have the patience of a saint – and if I briefly have to watch Angela Lansbury galumphing around righting wrongs, while everyone else in Cabot Cove meets a sticky end, to achieve a whole evening of peace and quiet, then so be it. Love or hate the programme, you have to admire the actress herself – almost ninety-one and still treading the boards. Only two years ago she played the eccentric medium Madame Arcati in a London production of Noel Coward’s Blithe Spirit, to great acclaim. Way da go, Angela!

BLITHE SPIRIT by Coward, , writer - Noel Coward, Directer - Michael Blakemore, Gielgud theatre, 2014, Credit: Johan Persson/

30^th September 1888 was a Sunday, which Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes probably wished they’d observed as a day of rest, when they encountered Jack the Ripper and became his latest victims in the early hours of the morning. Elizabeth was Swedish and known as Long Liz – she was fond of a tipple and, with scant prospects of finding employment, had turned to prostitution to fund the booze, after her marriage broke up. She was killed first and about the time that her body was being discovered, Catherine (aka Kate), was released from Bishopsgate Police Station, where she’d spent a few hours in police custody in a drunken stupor. A cruel twist of fate if ever there was one. Her back story was much the same as Elizabeth’s; alcoholism fuelled by meagre earnings from prostitution.

Elizabeth Stride

There’s a theory that whoever Jack was, he (perhaps she?) was disturbed while killing Elizabeth, because – apart from a slit throat, which can’t have been too pleasant – she didn’t suffer the grotesque disfiguring injuries inflicted upon other victims. Catherine, however, wasn’t so lucky and was subjected to a frenzy of mutilation – far more extreme and haphazard than any other victim, poor thing. I think we can safely assume Jack was majorly peed off at being interrupted first time around. How exceptionally scary life must have been on the streets of Whitechapel for ladies of that ilk, during the Ripper’s mercifully short reign.

Catherine Eddowes

Incidentally, one DC Walter Dew of the Met, claimed in his memoirs to have discovered the body of the Ripper’s final victim Mary Jane Kelly, ‘The most gruesome memory of the whole of my Police career.’

Walter Dew

Whilst his version of those events is challenged by some Ripperologists, Dew did rise through the ranks to Chief Inspector, and was responsible for the arrest of Dr Hawley Harvey Crippin, homeopath (and another contender for the odd name prize) for the murder of his second wife, Cora in 1910. Cora (born Kunigunde Mackamotski – I believe we have an outright winner!) was a music hall singer whose stage name was Belle Elmore.

Cora Crippen

Poor old Doc C must have been feeling the tiniest bit smug as he sailed up the St Lawrence to Quebec City onboard the SS Montrose, along with his mistress, Ethel Le Neve disguised as a boy. Then DCI Dew spoiled any plans they might have had for a new life in the colonies by catching a faster ship, the SS Laurentic and reaching Quebec first. Crippen was the first criminal to be captured with the aid of wireless communication, after Dew telegraphed the captain of the Montrose to warn him of his dodgy passengers.

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But Crippin was such a silly Billy – if he’d sailed to America, being a US citizen it would have taken an extradition order to secure his arrest and return to the UK. But once he entered Canadian territory and became subject to the laws of the British Empire, he was Dew’s for the rattling of handcuffs. The jury took just twenty-seven minutes to find him guilty and he was executed by hanging a few months later at Pentonville Prison. Tried separately, Ethel was acquitted as an accomplice, married, had two children and lived to be eighty-four.

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Like Angela Lansbury, my dad is ninety-one – but he doesn’t remember what happened two seconds ago, let alone have the ability to retain all those lines and deliver them with aplomb. He rarely gets out of his chair, waving his walking stick and shouting orders at everyone, expecting to be waited upon hand and foot – perhaps that’s what comes of being raised in a household with servants. I’ll never know. His latest fancy is that my mother (or ‘that woman’, as she has become) is trying to murder him – and, frankly, who could blame her? I so want to be like Angela …

When Dad was in hospital recently, the OH and I left after visiting him and, while we were driving back to my parents’ house, a biker pulled up uncomfortably close to ride parallel. Gulp. It was hot and we had the windows open, so were sitting ducks – when he leaned into us, black helmet gleaming, my life flashed before my eyes. ‘Your lunch is on the roof!’ he yelled. Doh! The OH had grabbed a sandwich on the way out to the car park and done the classic, bad comedy thing, leaving it on the roof when shoving stuff onto the backseat. Then he forgot all about it and drove off. Cue huge sighs of relief all round and a swift wrench of the steering wheel to pull over and retrieve said sandwich.

You couldn’t make it up – I didn’t.

Toodles.

Nell Peters’ Amazon author page has a potted bio and tells you what books she has written. Find it here: Author.to/NellPeters

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Amazing!!!! Another brilliant blog. Thank you so much Nell!

Happy reading,

Jenny x

Guest Post from Ellie Holmes: Why all need a cheerleader

By Jenny Kane

On September 22, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction, Romance

I’m delighted to welcome Ellie Holmes to my little blog today! This is a great post- I definitely need all the cheerleading I can get!

Over to you Ellie…

Why we all need a cheerleader

We all need a cheerleader in our lives, someone who supports us in whatever we choose to do. A person who is there when the going gets tough with a supportive smile, a reassuring squeeze of the hand or an encouraging nod. A person who will listen calmly as we rant about the injustices that have befallen us or which we imagine might have befallen us. Someone to share the wine (whine?) with.

Our cheerleader is a person who has the clarity of vision to look at any given situation and whilst still playing the role of our cheerleader can see where we might have taken a wrong turn and not be afraid to tell us so.

Our cheerleader is someone who knows us inside out, our limitations and our strengths. They know what we are capable of without the shadow of self doubt darkening their minds as it so often does our own. That is why they know we can succeed at whatever endeavour we have set our minds on and can calm our fears when we question ourselves. Sometimes they and only they can see our true potential and push us along the road to achieving it. That is when a cheerleader becomes an enabler.

How many of us would be where we are today and have achieved the things we have achieved without that inspiring teacher or role model, that parent or other relative who took the time and trouble to build up our self confidence? That someone special who made us believe in ourselves and that anything is possible.

Some have always been in our lives, others arrive late and leave early. But if you have experienced the power of having a cheerleader of our own, you never forget it and you are never the same again.

If you have someone like that in your life be grateful, recognise their contribution for what it is and, if you can, repay the favour by being there for them too. If it is too late for that, try to pay it forward by being a cheerleader for someone else.

There have been countless studies done into the feelings of well being evoked in us when we help others. Those same feelings are not replicated when the only person we are helping is ourselves. So, when the opportunity presents itself and you can help someone else, be their cheerleader, help them as someone once helped you and keep the cycle of goodwill spinning.

Having a cheerleader is a wonderful gift. Being one is even better.

***

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Blurb from…

A GOLDEN HOARD JUST WAITING TO BE DISCOVERED…

With her engagement in tatters, Jonquil Jones, a Portable Antiquities specialist, moves to Cornwall for a fresh start. When a report arrives of a treasure trove that has lain hidden underground for centuries, she can feel her soul stirring with excitement.

Is it a one off or the beginning of an extraordinary discovery? It’s Jonquil’s job to find out. There is only one problem: the man who reported the find, Sebastian Ableyard, is the man Jonquil holds responsible for the break-up of her engagement.

Can Jonquil, with the help of Cornishman, Drew Danvers, uncover the ancient landscape’s secrets in time or will plundering treasure hunters beat them to it? And can Jonquil find a way to set aside her fears and risk her heart again on love?

Set against the stunning backdrop of the Cornish countryside and combining heart and soul with a dash of danger, The Tregelian Hoard is the first novella in the exciting new Jonquil Jones Mystery Series by Ellie Holmes.

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Excerpt from The Tregelian Hoard:-

Jonquil parked her red Mini Cooper beside the farm shop. As she thumbed her car alarm a blue Triumph Stag roared up and parked across the yard in a shower of gravel. She watched as the driver leapt from the car and pocketed the keys without locking it. Dressed in jeans and a white short-sleeved shirt, he was tall and slender with dark, curly hair.

Catching sight of Jonquil, the man halted. ‘Hello there. Shop’s closed I’m afraid but I can probably get Mum to open up again if I ask her nicely.’ He smiled disarmingly, revealing a pair of cute, deep-set dimples.

‘Drew Danvers?’ Jonquil asked, hazarding a guess. As she came closer and mindful of her aunt’s lively description, Jonquil was left in no doubt. The man’s eyes were the deepest, richest blue Jonquil had ever seen. A Cornish sea on a summer’s day.

Jonquil felt her heart flutter in response to the man’s keen gaze and thrust her car key into the pocket of her denim jacket, letting the edge of the key bite into her palm. You don’t need anyone, remember?

***

Paula Guyver

Bio

Ellie Holmes writes full length commercial women’s fiction with a touch of romantic suspense and romantic mystery novellas – books that have heart and soul with a dash of danger. Ellie takes her inspiration from the beautiful Essex countryside and the sublime Cornish coast. Romantic and engaging, Ellie’s style of writing will draw you in and keep you turning the pages. Heart-warming stories and compelling characters will stay with you long after you close her books. The Tregelian Hoard is the first novella in the Jonquil Jones Mystery Series.
http://www.ellieholmesauthor.com

http://www.facebook.com/EllieHWriter

Twitter @EllieHWriter

http://www.pinterest.com/EllieHWriter

Amazon Author Page http://Author.to/EllieHomes

***

Thanks again for such a positive post. I’m very lucky to have a few cheerleaders in my life- I hope you all have them too!

Happy reading,

Jenny x

Guest Post from Jenny Harper: The perils of writing a series

By Jenny Kane

On September 13, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Fiction

I’m delighted to welcome Jenny Harper to my blog. Today Jenny is chatting about a problem I’ve tackled myself- series writing.

Over to you Jenny…

The perils of writing a series

I confess to being a very bad series writer. The fact is, I never expected my first novel, Face the Wind and Fly, to turn into a series. But the town of Hailesbank was in my head, and it wouldn’t go away. However, I’ve never drawn a map (except in my head), and I just know that one day my characters are going to meet in a place that has mysteriously shifted along the High Street, or they’re going to be the wrong age, or their eyes will have changed colour… And going back through all the books now to log everything would be such a lot of work! I can’t resist sending my characters off to meet in the Spanish tapas bar, Besalú, or watching them walk in the Memorial Park, or drop in at the Duke of Atholl for a pint or two (but heck – where is it again?).

mistakes we make updated web

In my latest novel, Mistakes We Make, I’ve been more daring than merely setting the books in the same town – it’s the first book in my Heartlands series that actually takes a character from a previous novel (People We Love) and moves her story forward. I loved writing this! It was a great feeling to know that Molly and her friend Lexie (who went through the mill in the earlier novel) had a future – and to uncover the mysteries left hanging about Molly’s past.

I should have planned the whole project better, of course. I spent a ridiculous amount of time making sure there weren’t any continuity errors. Still, I did love writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it too. Here’s the gist:

What do you do when you find you haven’t fallen out of love after all? It’s too late to save your marriage and your husband has a new woman in his life …

Molly Keir’s answer is to run away. Well, it’s not exactly running away because she is given the chance of a lifetime – a partnership in a glamorous marketing agency in London – but she soon finds it isn’t the right answer either. She misses her friends and family, and when her brother gets into trouble, she’s not there to give him her support.

Adam Blair, her husband (they are still married at the start of the book), is sleepwalking through life. He has lost his wife and he’s in a job he hates. He became a lawyer to please his father, but he’d much rather be out walking on the hills. When everything collapses around him, he has some difficult decisions to make too.

And then there’s Caitlyn Murray. I really enjoyed writing about Caitlyn, who stars in the sub-plot, Caitlyn Murray. Caitlyn lives with her unlucky-in-love mother and four step siblings, and she’s a warm, loving, salt-of-the-earth girl who has to find her own way through the huge problems that beset her, while trying to work out what it is that she really wants from life. Her story, obviously, intertwines with Molly’s in an unexpected way, but in the end, she’s her own woman.

So – will I write another book in the Heartlands series? Almost certainly! And will I learn from the past and get organised?

Shh … don’t tell anyone … but I’ll probably muddle along again. But next time I decide to write a series, it will all be different!

Jenny CC2 web

Author bio.

Jenny Harper lives in Edinburgh, Scotland, though she was born in India and grew up in England. She has been a non-fiction editor, a journalist and a businesswoman and has written a children’s novel and several books about Scotland, as well as a number of contemporary novels and a novella in The Heartlands series (set in the fictional town of Hailesbank), and two short stories that have appeared in anthologies. Mistakes We Make, published in July 2016, is her sixth full-length novel

Buying links

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Mistakes-We-Make-Jenny-Harper-ebook/dp/B01FUO4UQU/

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Social media links

Website http://jennyharperauthor.co.uk/

Blog http://jennyharperauthor.co.uk/category/myblog/

Twitter https://twitter.com/harper_jenny

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/authorjennyharper

Google + https://plus.google.com/+JennyHarperauthor/posts

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/15692421-jenny-harper

Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B00HXIE2Q0

Pinterest https://uk.pinterest.com/jennyharperhome/boards/

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Many thanks again Jenny- great blog.

Happy reading,

Jenny x

Guest Post from Stella Hervey Birrell: Finding True Love: Ten Years On

By Jenny Kane

On September 7, 2016

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, Fiction

I’m delighted to welcome Stella Hervey Birrell to my blog today. This is a wonderful post- so I suggest getting comfortable for a few minutes- preferably with cake to hand.

Over to you Stella…

Finding True Love: Ten Years on.

This September will be ten years since the day I ‘pulled myself together for my lines,’ as someone drily commented on my wedding day. Tears had fallen while Mr HB pledged himself to me for life, but no way was I missing out on my turn to speak!

It will be ten years since my husband set his face to ‘sure’ as I completely blanked him on my way down the aisle (I wrote about this on the My Reading Corner Blog here). Ten years since my husband’s daughter floated around looking like a fairy, and my husband’s son looked a bit grumpy, but it was partly because his shoes were too tight.

Ten years since I put on a golden band.

My golden band – it still fits!

Am I still in love?

Deeply so.

Well, actually … a couple of things have happened recently.

I realise it’s only now, nearly ten years later, that I am even close to moving away from that ‘smitten-early-days’ fog. Like when I noticed that my husband is really stubborn – about nine months ago. I always wondered where the kids got it from.

I don’t think that it is a coincidence that he works away sometimes. If anyone was daft enough to ask me for advice on maintaining a healthy relationship, it would be this: make sure one or both of you has a job where you have to travel. Not a lot, but a little. Each meeting becomes a rekindling, a jolt of recognition … and someone else to brush the kid’s teeth, if he hasn’t timed his arrival to just after bedtime.

It’s your turn.

We’re older. Crikey, that’s an obvious thing to say. I suppose, what is perhaps slightly more interesting, is that I am now about the age he was, when we met. For the mathematically challenged amongst you, that means he’s older than me, by quite a bit, as I’m fond of reminding him.

I’ve become healthier, and he hasn’t. But he really, really won’t want me to talk about that. We have a mutual support thing that mostly works – until I decide I want a ‘day,’ and he’s already having a ‘day,’ and I go straight into full-on huffy ‘I never get to have a day when I’m the ill one’ mode.

See, maturity has nothing to do with age.

He has four children now, and I have two biological – washing powder kids I call them – and two that went to our wedding. I’ve got a new job – two, I suppose, I’m the main mean mommy when he’s four on.

But when he’s on four off, my job is tippity tapping away, making stuff up and then writing it down.

A selection: my printed work.

Our commitment has endured, in a way I never imagined I would experience. Ten years is a long time, and becoming a ‘writer’ is a big deal. It takes a lot out of family time, and I do not take it lightly that he is only too happy to make up the shortfall.

After a lifetime of Mr Wrongs, Mr Right, who became Mr HB (his preference, and based on my pen-name) is still my chosen person. He’s still my best bet when I need to pull myself together, and pull out some lines.

My debut novel, How Many Wrongs make a Mr Right?

How Many Wrongs make a Mr Right? is available from UK Amazon US Amazon Kobo Nook iBooks

Author Links-

Stella Hervey Birrell blogs at #atinylife140 tweets at @atinylife140 and can be found on Facebook here.

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Many thanks for such a great blog Stella (and Mr HB!)

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x