**STOP PRESS - BARRY BOOK FESTIVAL - SUNDAY 2ND NOVEMBER 08 - BARRY COUNTY LIBRARY - STARRING ME - 11 - 12 NOON - A FREE COPY OF VIRTUAL STRANGERS FOR THE FIRST 20 PEOPLE THROUGH THE DOOR - HOW CAN YOU RESIST? - AND I'LL SIGN IT FOR YOU TOO - END OF STOP PRESS**
Woo hoo! The book is finished!Yes, yes, I know. What book?' is the question on your lips at this point, which is perfectly reasonable on account of my having been uncharacteristically non-communicative with regard to the current Work (no longer) in Progress.
This is not for reasons of superstition. Neither is it because I hail from the camp that believes that if you bring your muse blinking into the harsh light of day it will fly away never to return. It is, in actual fact, because I've been so damn busy writing it, coupled with the fact that I came back from kitchen land and holiday land and all the other places I tend to inhabit in the summer months entirely unable to remember the password I needed in order to get on here and move the furniture around.
All that said, there isn't all that much else to report, really. The work is done, the words 'the end' have been affixed, and now all that remains is for it to go on the long journey all manuscripts must before hopefully fetching up at a bookshop near you...
In the meantime, however, a brief taster. This from the blurb already penned;
'I don’t know how long it was before I fully woke up, but when I did, everything felt different. My eyes opened and for a moment it seemed that I must have been hit on the head. There was no pain at all, but a new face above me. A manly face. Rugged. Unfamiliar. Concerned. I wanted him to save me, but straight away I noticed that there was worry in his expression and sadness in his eyes. He asked me a question, but I didn’t really hear it. I felt terrified. Why was he looking at me that way? Then he asked me again, and this time I did hear. “Can you,” he asked, “move your feet for me, sweetheart?” I had no choice but to answer with a question of my own, because I didn’t understand what was happening. Where were they? Where were my feet and my legs? Where was the rest of my body?’
On a Saturday morning in May 1980, Melanie Bowen, a pretty fifteen year old, ran down the stairs of her parents’ home in Port Talbot, grabbed her leather jacket and yelled a goodbye, then walked out of the front door and into the sunshine for what was to be the last time in her life.
This is the story of what followed…
Exciting stuff, huh? Well, I think so, anyway. And I'm allowed to say that because this book isn't a work of fiction. It is, rather, a real life story about an extraordinary lady, and between us I like to think we've done it justice. More - so much more- about this soonest.
And now back to the home page...
I always start with a list. No, those aren't my words but those of my very first full-length fictional heroine, Julia Potter, who begins her journey by having a damn good spring clean.
Which is where life, as it so often does, imitates art, because those of you who've ventured down this byway before will know that spring cleaning is something I've been up to myself, which is why this website, though green, is no longer green, and why, rather as with Sainsbury's, everything's moved once again.
The reference to Julia isn't random, however, because this being my homepage, and therefore the first one you come to, it behoves me (in the interests of both book sales and lexical diversity) to let you know that she's had a bit of a make-over too, in the form of having got herself a lovely new jacket. She's in the shops now, but if you really can't wait, you can get her via Amazon by simply clicking on Shop...
And there's more. If that's not enough excitement to be going on with I must also use this space to regale you with news of my latest - Out on a Limb, which is out now and also available from the Shop page... While you're there, check out the Out and About page as well, for a very twee picture of me and my mum, who, I'm bound to tell you, did NOT provide the blueprint for Abbie's...
'My mother has just the two modes of operation. Either slightly dramatic or seriously dramatic. That this is the latter means just the one thing. That my day is about to get worse…’
And for single mum, Abbie, life is complex enough. So once her eldest son, Seb, has gone on his gap year, she’s decided it’s time to make changes. She’s just left her old job and started a new one (to escape the gorgeous man-who-turned-out-to-be-married), and is planning some space for herself at long last.
But fate seems to have something else in mind for Abbie, in the shape of her demanding and incorrigible mother, whose feckless fourth husband, Hugo, has just died. Temporarily in a wheelchair after a recent knee op, Diana – retired TV fitness icon and dancer – will need looking after so will have to move in. Still, Abbie tells herself - gritting her teeth - it won’t be for more than a few weeks…
But Abbie hasn’t figured on the sudden arrival of Hugo’s 20 years’ estranged son. Gabriel Ash, a suave TV Weatherman, not only owns the deeds to what they thought was Hugo’s house, but also has plans of his own…
But whatever your proclivities - whether you’ve come as avid reader, fellow writer, or just someone who fetched up here whilst looking for an affordable and attractive new home of character in a semi rural setting (that’s Barratt with an ‘a’ you’ll be wanting, incidentally), I hope you’ll find something in these pages to interest, amuse or inspire you.
So, what is on here, exactly? First timers might be interested to read first chapters, so I’ve included those of all my novels, in the hopes that you’ll enjoy them and (somewhat self-evidently) want to buy the books. There’s also a selection of my short stories and journalistic endeavours, some writing related articles for the creatively afflicted, and all the sorts of things you’d expect to find on a writer’s website. Twitterings and crowings various, news about projects, links to other sites I like, including the ubiquitous and afore-mentioned Amazon, plus Women'sOwn, the weekly column I write for the Western Mail Magazine. (The Western Mail being the national newspaper of Wales, for those of you not lucky enough to live here). It replaces the blog that used to fill that page. And is a whole lot more coherent. I hope.
The reference to Julia isn't random, however, because this being my homepage, and therefore the first one you come to, it behoves me (in the interests of both book sales and lexical diversity) to let you know that she's had a bit of a make-over too, in the form of having got herself a lovely new jacket. She's in the shops now, but if you really can't wait, you can get her via Amazon by simply clicking on Shop...