So today I'm feeling a little Christmas joy and want to wave my wand of happiness in a shimmy-shaky fashion. Not only am I going to give you a cover reveal, the blurb AND the first chapter of 'LIFE AFTER SETH' but I'm also doing FIVE DAYS - yes, you heard me correctly - FIVE DAYS of both of my Christmas novellas for FREE!!!!
From Wednesday 26th November right up until the end of Sunday 30th November, you can grab both of my novellas for absolutely NOTHING on Amazon. How good is that? Let's call it my little Christmas present to you.
And, furthermore, if you're on Twitter and you Re-Tweet my #free posts or this blog, you can go in the MAGNIFICENT MISFIT MAGICAL MACHINE.
Now, this isn't ANY old machine. If you enter this stupendous place of wonder and get picked as a winner - you know, like on The X-Factor or Strictly Come Dancing? - you get to pick any of my books to be delivered to your Kindle for your delight and delectation! For no pennies whatsoever!
See? I really am feeling the Festive Funk right now. What have you got to lose? Get your fingers poised, your RT button going and tell all your friends that there are FREEBIES on offer. And if you leave me a review, I'll love you even more.
OK. Ready for the cover reveal, the blurb and the first chapter? Grab a drink and a packet of biscuits and prepare to meet 'LIFE AFTER SETH'.
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THE BLURB
Picture
this …
A
summer wedding booked in a beautiful English village surrounded by rolling
hills and stunning countryside.
The
guests are waiting, the bride is blushing and
the
groom is … where?
Left
to muddle through in a ramshackle cottage with half-naked builders, a selfish
mother, a New Age sister who’s away with the fairies and a hormonal teenage
nephew, Lizzie sees her world spiral into farce.
It
may seem like a romcom that cinema goers giggle over as they chomp on their
popcorn, but this is no laughing matter for Lizzie - it’s her life.
With
Seth gone, there’s no shortage of men should she ever choose to love
again. But which one would she consider
letting into her broken heart?
And
will she find the happy ever after she’s
always
dreamed of?
LIFE AFTER SETH …
when being jilted is the best thing that can happen to
a girl.
* * * * *
Chapter One
You know
those daft dinner party games where the guests ask probing questions to find
out more about one another? The ones
that start as a bit of fun and then end up turning into a full blown domestic
between the loved-up couple at the end of the table or an epiphany for the
closet gay who realises he really does
want to sleep with the guy sitting to his left?
Those games.
Well,
the next time I find myself at one of those ‘all jolly good, light hearted fun’
affairs and I’m asked the question ‘What
was the worst day of your life?’, I
can guarantee that no one will be able to top my answer and I’ll have the
assembled guests in stunned - possibly embarrassed - silence.
Oh yeah,
as bad days go, by anyone’s standards, it was a humdinger.
Of
course it was meant to be the happiest
day of my life but as I woke and stretched in the sunlight, cocooned in the
cosiness of my childhood bed, I could never have imagined what the following
few hours - indeed months - would bring.
If I’d
had any idea, I would probably have rolled over and gone back to the dream that
involved Daniel Craig and, intriguingly, a rather large jar of Nutella.
But no,
silly old me jumped out of bed filled with thrilling anticipation, threw on my
dressing gown, lovingly stroked my lace gown hanging on the wardrobe and then
headed down to breakfast en famille.
Any normal family might have had Buck’s Fizz
on ice and the tempting smell of a cooked breakfast floating on the air to
greet the blushing bride-to-be, but not mine.
My
father was nowhere to be seen and my mother was on the phone to best friend
Glynis moaning about the lack of husband presence. My sister was saluting the sun in the garden
as she chanted and wailed in some sort of Tai Chi pose, and my nephew was
sporting a tie-dye sarong while strumming a depressing tune on his guitar in
the corner of the kitchen.
Rather
than being showered with love or greeted with bubbling excitement, my arrival
was ignored until my nephew decided to turn his attention to me with a lazy,
‘Yo, Auntie Lizzie. Cool day, huh?’
‘Morning,
Zeus.’ (I always cringed every time I said his name, but when your sister’s a
happy-clappy hippie, what can you expect?)
‘No, it’s not a cool day, it’s a pretty hot one actually but when you’re
sixteen, without a care in the world, I guess every day is cool.’
Zeus
shook his rasta dreadlocks - a little odd in ginger - and put down his
guitar. ‘Ah, but that’s where you’re
wrong, Auntie Lizzie. My head’s filled
with worries, man. Global warming. Pollution.
The state of Palestine. The banality of ‘X-Factor’. It’s all going on in here, every minute of
the day.’ He tapped his head and looked
as if he had to sort the world of its problems before a bowl of muesli had
passed his lips.
‘Yeah,
well thanks for that Zeus but today’s my wedding day so I’d rather we stuck to
light-hearted chat and left the major humanitarian issues until tomorrow if
that’s OK with you.’
He stood
and stretched, reaching for his pouch of tobacco. ‘Pftt!
Marriage. Society’s way of
constraining the weak-minded and dictating who you share your bed with. Not for me, dude. My heart and spirit are too free to be
shackled.’
His
comments were best ignored. It was like
talking to a testosterone fuelled version of my sister Alice as he churned out
the lines she’d been feeding him since birth, and it could only turn into a
mega debate or heated argument. I
figured an offer of a bacon sandwich might lighten the mood a little - all
teenage boys lived for their stomachs, didn’t they?
‘Gross!’ He looked ready to vomit. ‘Pig!
Bacon is pig, Lizzie. Packed with chemicals and crap. How could
you?’
‘And the
foul smelling tobacco that you constantly puff on is packed with vitamins and
minerals, is it?’ I countered back as I busied myself at the stove.
His
attempt at any wisecrack response was thwarted by the appearance of Alice,
bangles jangling and ankle bells chiming.
‘Good Morning, my little Lotus Blossoms!
What a glorious new day Mama Nature has bestowed upon us! My chakras are flowing and my yin yang
beautifully balanced. A little shot of
wheat-grass should see me ready to face the challenges destined for me.’
‘And a happy wedding day to you, darling
sister of mine,’ I mumbled childishly
under my breath before biting defiantly into my swine sandwich.
‘What
are you grumbling about, Lizzie? If you
will insist on filling your body with dead animals, you can only expect your mood to be foul. Get out of the wrong side of the bed, did
you? I told you that you should have
slept in the tepee in the garden with me.’
My
breakfast began to turn to sawdust in my mouth.
By pointing out that I was eating a little pink corpse, my sister had
totally ruined my pleasure.
‘Most siblings would greet one another
with a hug and some kind words on such a momentous day,’ I said. ‘Most sisters
would be over the moon and rushing about the house in a whirl of curling tongs
and make up. Most parents would be on hand to calm any nerves or pour drinks. And what do I get? An AWOL father, a
whinging mother and a mini bloody Glastonbury in the back garden. Let’s all have a joint and henna my hands
shall we?’
‘Cool!’ Zeus was unable to do sarcasm.
Unlike
his mother, who looked at me as if I’d eaten her last lentil burger as she turned
on her Birkenstocks with an ‘Oh that’s just great! Now my energies have been tinged with your
toxic seepage and I’m going to have to cleanse myself all over again. Thanks for that, Lizzie! Just thanks!’
Sisterly
love! The Nolans we most definitely
weren’t.
As I
chucked the remainder of my now unappealing breakfast in the bin I was reminded
that my mother shared the same selfish trait as my sister. Slamming the phone down, she huffed and
puffed and then made her way towards me from the hallway.
‘Make me
a coffee, Angel. And throw a good slug
of brandy in there. Today is not going well.’
Flicking
the switch on the kettle, I began idly humming ‘Going to the Chapel’ in my best Bette Midler warble. If no one else could be happy for me, I’d
have my own little celebration.
Because
in less than four hours time, I’d be walking down the aisle to the gorgeous
Seth - and I couldn’t believe my luck.
I was marrying
the man of my dreams and escaping the confines of the Addams family.
Bring it
on!
*****
Growing
up in the Addams household - yes, that really is our surname - was … how can I say? ... reasonably OK, would be
the best way to sum it up.
Dad
worked hard as a bank manager, Mum was involved with the Women’s Institute and
charity work, and Alice in those days was just your average sister - annoying occasionally
but mainly bearable.
Three
years my senior, she never let me forget it.
Whether it was to boss me around, lecture me, protect me or look down
her nose at my immaturity, I was never allowed to lose sight of the fact that
she was the big sister.
Now of
course, she’s ageless. Children of the
Universe don’t have a number to determine how many years they’ve been on this
planet. Every day is a ‘birth-day’ in Alice’s Wonderland and she’s been
reborn, regressed or found herself so many times I’m surprised she recognises
the person she looks at in the mirror - which incidentally isn’t very often
because her face is merely ‘a hindrance’.
It’s the soul that counts.
A fairly
run of the mill teenager until she hit sixteen, Alice fell for a boy during a
fruit picking job in the summer holidays that determined she would never return
to school. Our village of Upper Moreton
was conveniently situated for seasonal work and we were never short of odd jobs
or ways to earn extra cash. She could have worked in the local dress
hire shop or in the coffee bar which served delicious pastries and scones. But I guess her latent hippie was lurking
somewhere even back then - the freedom of the fields and the sun on her back called
and she strawberry picked with a song in her heart and a spring in her
Jesus-sandal clad feet.
When the
summer came to an end, she packed her rucksack and headed off to Greece with
her first love, Reece. At the time she’d
believed he was for life. She’d even had
Mum and Dad convinced, so that they’d let her go with their blessing. It didn’t last though and I think her current
notch on the headboard (or tent pole) is around the three hundred mark. Love is free, apparently, and she’s always
shared as much of hers as possible.
So I became,
to all intents and purposes, an only child.
At thirteen years of age, that had been thrilling and lonely in equal
measures. I didn’t have her moaning at
me or sparking up arguments but I missed the company and the odd times that I did need her. She had her uses and I found myself with no
one to ask those all important questions.
‘Is this boob bigger than the other one?’
‘If Peter pulls my ponytail does it mean he
likes me?’
‘Is this zit really noticeable?’
Of
course her answers were never very tactful but at least I had somebody. I couldn’t possibly ask my mum stuff like
that. She’d just twitter and bristle and
then tell me to get the Delia book out and go and bake some nice shortbread.
How
relieved was I when I returned to the autumn term at school to find that we had
a new girl in our class - Nadia - and we instantly hit it off. She had a brother, Ralph, but she longed for
a sister, a confidante, a partner in crime.
From the first day we met we became inseparable, sharing our secrets,
our worries, our dreams and our bedrooms.
Most
weekends would see us sleeping at one or the other’s house and, for some
reason, I always preferred it when I was invited to stay at hers. Her mum and dad were a lovely couple and they
were always laughing - a really happy family.
Ralph was fifteen, and quite good looking, and for a long while I had a
bit of a secret crush on him. To him though
I was just his little sister’s friend, so it wouldn’t have been the done thing
for him to see me in a romantic way but I bumped into him in London one day a
few years later and he joked that the ugly duckling had turned into a bit of a
swan. Cheeky sod!
Now it’s
not that my family were unhappy, it’s
just that Dad was always wrapped up in the stress of work and Mum was just too
busy being … Mum. Everything had to revolve around her and Alice and I had grown up
knowing what this meant. So, if a
colleague from the WI was diagnosed with a serious illness, all we’d hear about
would be how it would increase my mother’s workload. If someone wanted to tell her all about their
Mediterranean cruise, she’d rush to the photo albums and talk about her own
trip. If I had a spot, she had a wrinkle
and I’d be told, ‘Think yourself lucky you’ve still got youth on your side!’
So, time
spent with Nadia was precious. We played
hard but worked harder - attending every party and always making sure we were
up bright and early ready for homework or revision. We both dreamed of becoming teachers and were
determined that nothing would come in the way of that. No boys or hangovers were worth it, although
we had a few of both - we were only human.
Eventually
we left Uni with a couple of degrees between us and placements in two local schools
doing the jobs we’d worked so hard to get.
I’d opted to teach the younger age range with all its wide eyed
innocence but she’d longed for the challenge of the back chat and gobby smart
talk of a secondary school environment.
It was
time to start looking for those dream men we’d envisaged as we lay in the
darkness of our bedrooms, planning how our adult lives would pan out.
Four
failed relationships later, Seth walked into my life …
* * * * *
I hope you enjoyed this sneak preview - If so, remember to pre-order from 1st December.
And don't forget to grab my Christmas novellas for FREE for five days from tomorrow.
Brilliant counting down the days! Val x
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed this! Looking forward to it xx
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