LIFE AFTER SETH - and a FREEBIE or TWO!

My next (EIGHTH!) full length novel is due for release on 10th December and will be available for pre-order from 1st December - that means, if you order 'LIFE AFTER SETH' on Amazon at the beginning of December it will be 'auto-magically' delivered to your Kindle the minute it goes 'live' on the 10th.  And hopefully shoot me to #1 in the charts.  Hey, a girl can dream can't she?!

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'.

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.

Thanks John Lewis!

There are milestones in any mum's life when you realise that your baby's not a baby anymore.  There are the obvious ones - those first steps, words, day at school, sleepover.  Then they move on to secondary school, heading off to Uni or work.  The list is endless.

Often these are joyous occasions, mixed with happy tears and at other times they can be heart-wrenching and those sobs aren't so easy to shed. It's all part of parenting and we wear our lines and wrinkles like a badge of honour.

You just never know when the next one is going to hit ...

This morning I had a face which would have been fit for Halloween as my mascara and eyeliner went southwards.  Yes, dear reader, I watched the new John Lewis Christmas advert just before heading off to do the weekly shop.  A bad move.  I'm convinced I frightened small children and old age pensioners as I pushed my trolley around in a daze. 

If you haven't seen it yet, have a little look and then I'll tell you why it moved me so much.

 Are you dry-eyed?  If so, stop reading!  Or maybe read on and see what caused me to sob.

My boy will always be my baby but he's now a fine young man who works hard and plays hard - despite the troubles he's had in the past. Stick with me and I'll give you the background to why this affected me so much.

When my baby was about two, he had an obsession with Pingu.  Remember him?  (Our female cat is even called Pinga - as in the sister).

Everyone we knew bought our son penguins in all shapes and sizes - his bedroom became a shrine to them.  But not one of them meant as much to him as 'Teeth' - a particularly mouthy looking specimen picked up at a car boot sale for 50p.  Teeth went EVERYWHERE with him.  The dentist would chuckle when she saw him in the chair and, on one occasion, I bumped into a lady at the college where I was teaching at the time. We stopped, assessed one another whilst trying to remember how we knew each another and she suddenly shouted, 'Teeth!' - it was my son's dental nurse! Yes, he was a well-known penguin, talked about around town!

The John Lewis ad became more poignant for me as Teeth too found a pal. Not a wife, but a side-kick in the shape of 'Gums'.

Hubbie was working in The City at the time and he called me on his way home from work to say that he'd seen Teeth's double attached to a lamppost on the side of the street.  It turned out he belonged to a tramp and was part of his patch.  I knew we had to have him, even though hubbie told me he was a fatter, fluffier version of Teeth (at this point Teeth had been in the washing machine a few times and lost a little weight).  A few quid to the tramp for some food and drink, and Gums was on the tube coming back to live with us.

As soon as hubbie appeared at the door with him, our wide-eyed son looked in awe and shouted, 'Teeth!'  And so they became two - who still live, in pride of place, on his bookshelf.

Watching this advert took me on a journey of being a mum and all Christmases past - that first Christmas Eve with a new baby, and all the joy and worries you know it will bring, and then moving on to the excitement of secrecy, stuffed stockings and those sneaky visits from Santa.

It's role reversal now as our son isn't asking for anything for Christmas.  He has a job that pays well - so what he wants, he buys.  Now, HE'S the one planning and plotting with excitement.  And that makes me happy/sad.

So, John Lewis, I know you only do this to make us flock to your shops and buy your products (I'm not stupid!) but your ad made me think about family, childhood, love, pride and cherishing every moment.

Thanks for wrecking my face!

By the way, I write books too!  Get your Kindle copies here. (In paperback at Lulu)

Mother Christmas

This Christmas day will be the 50^th I’ve spent with my lovely mum - well, that’s if you include the one when I was in the womb.  Fifty Christmas days!  I count myself truly lucky as I only shared eighteen with my dad before he did the dirty on me and packed his bags before hotfooting off to heaven.  But the eighteen I had with him were all good, all special in their own way and all jam-packed with love.

As I prepare for my 50^th festive season with my mum, I’ve been reflecting on how things change.  This year’s been a difficult one for us as my mum broke her pelvis in September and that’s made getting out virtually impossible for her and in turn doubled my work load.  I’m tired and sometimes my patience can be slightly lacking but I always try to remember that it’s not easy for her either.  Our relationship has changed - she was the one who always cared for me and now she relies on me for nearly everything.  The circle of life, huh?

But every year is another that I count my blessings - another Christmas to spend with her - and who knows how many there may be ahead of us?

Life changes, families change but I know I have the one constant in my life - the much loved lady who brought me into the world and who I have so much to be grateful for.

So at this special time, after all my mum has been through and continues to struggle with, I’ll be raising my glass to her and thanking her for everything she’s done for me and the strength she still continues to display when times are hard.

There’s a lot I can’t change for her but I can still make sure she has the happiest Christmas Day I can give her.  She deserves a whole lot more but the rest is out of my hands.

Happy Christmas to the best Mum ever.

Nanny Misfit

(not bad at 86!)

And a very Happy Christmas to all my readers - thank you for your support.

Presenting ...

My loyal and lovely readers have been asking for the release date for this year's Christmas novella.  After a rocky few weeks - caring for an elderly mother can eat up hour upon hour - I can now reveal that 'Cinderella's Buttons' will hit the shelves of Amazon and Lulu next Wednesday - 30th October.

Here's my lovely cover!

And if that's tempted you to know a little more about what goes on inside that front page, here's the blurb:

 ‘The Tideswell Players’
are all set for their
debut amateur dramatics production
and it’s going to wake up their
sleepy little village.

Will Gemma realise that not all men are pigs?
Can Fliss put her heart on defrost?
When will Cheryl learn to be less of a Wannabe?
Who will love Ramsey, the only gay in the village?
What does it all hold for Martin?
And will Theo stop being ‘too nice’?

Join them as they discover that the scene
may be set and the script written,
but anything can happen when
the magic of the theatre casts its spell.

My full length novel is currently being edited by my husband, prior to the joint edit and then proof-reading.  Watch this space ... I'm still hopeful for a December release.

Huge thanks to Lucinda, Moira and Jackie for their help in getting 'Cinderella's Buttons' out there.

Merry Christmas One and All!

It's my final blog before Christmas and time for an end of year round up. So what have the past twelve months taught me on my journey as a struggling Indie author?

Hmm, really quite a lot . . .

1. Success is slow, but patience helps.  Eighteen months into my adventure, I’ve sold more books than I expected to but it seemed to take an eternity.

2.     Things can change from one day to the next, one hour to the next.  I never stay down for too long now, it’s not worth it - and the positives far outweigh the negatives.

3.      Not everyone likes my books - I can’t expect them to.  I don’t like Stephen King’s books, they're not my thing - but then I wouldn’t read one and then leave a negative review!

4.      My readers are lovely, loyal people.  Their reviews make me cry and their support is priceless.

5.      Doing free promotions on two of my books was the best move ever.  It raised my Amazon profile and then SOLD heaps of my other books.  I don’t know why I left it so long before doing it. Probably because I imagined people saying, ‘Huh!  She has to give her books away ‘cos she can’t sell them!’  But people aren’t that nasty, are they?!

6.      Fellow Indies are a huge help to one another.  We may be in competition but we still support and care for each other.  A quick rant in an email or on the phone and Michelle Betham and I often feel heaps better.  It’s been a good year for both of us but we’ve had our niggles and our down days - it’s good to know that someone knows exactly how you’re feeling.  You can buy Michelle’s books here.

7.      Editing is a curse!  Typos are sneaky little buggers and will always get the better of you.  Both ‘Stilettos & Stubble’ and ‘Christmas Deliverance’ were read endless times by three people before they went to publication and still there were a few mistakes.  Twitter friends kindly and sensitively pointed them out and both books have now been amended but I admit to throwing a few toys out of the pram when we found them.  It does annoy me though when I read other Indie writers’ reviews and people say things such as ‘You can see they’re an Indie writer.  Typos!’  Well, I’ve just ditched a book by a well known writer with a big publishing house because she changed the name of a character from one paragraph to the next, so it’s not just us Indies who do it.

8.      Everything takes longer than expected.  I’m waiting on two quite exciting developments to finally fall into place but nothing ever goes at the speed I want it to.  I’ve now decided not to pass any exciting news on in the initial stages because I look like a fabricator while I’m waiting for it to materialise.  So do keep watching this space!

So that’s my lessons for the year.  I’m sure next year will teach me a lot more but I’m prepared for the journey and ready to hit the ground running in 2013.  Book Six is on its way.

I’ve also been tagged with these questions by my Twitter friend Ness @baggiesbabe69 - you can read her answers here.

Q1. What’s your favourite thing about Christmas?

I’d have to say the excitement of knowing that I’ve got the right presents for the people I love.  The thought of that perfect gift hiding in my wardrobe is just the best.

Q2. What’s your favourite make up look for the festive season?

For evenings and parties I like to go for a slightly smoky look with paler lips.  I sometimes attempt false eyelashes (the more subtle variety) but I get bad tempered and end up thinking they don’t look much different to when I put on an extra coat of mascara!

Q3. Real or fake tree?

Very good fakes inside (one up and one downstairs) and a real one outside that I grew from a baby.

Q4. Giving presents or receiving them?

Definitely giving.  Although of course I’m more than happy to receive!

Q5. Do you open your presents Christmas morning or evening?

Hubbie and I have our stockings on Christmas Eve and then we all have our presents on Christmas morning after our son has had his stocking.

Q6. Handmade Christmas cards or bought?

We made our own cards, complete with festive pictures of our son, for the first ten years of his life.  He was dressed as a shepherd, a snowman, Father Christmas and one year we turned him into a Christmas tree by wrapping him in green felt and fairy lights!  We even plugged them in - wicked parents!  Now I’m afraid that all cards - except husband’s, son’s and Mum’s - are shop bought.

Q8. What’s your favourite Christmas food?

Chocolate of course!  I also love sprouts so I figure that balances it out.  In the good old days of yummy meat juices, it used to be turkey dripping on toast but meats don’t seem to produce the same fats any more.

Thanks for tagging me, Ness.  It was good to end on a festive theme.

I wish all my readers a happy and peaceful Christmas and don’t forget, if you get a new Kindle from Santa, my books can be found here.

Misfit Advent

Christmas is looming.  Are you excited or stressed?

I must be getting old because I’m sure it was only yesterday that I was last dragging my tired old bum around the shops looking for the perfect gift for ‘X’ or the ideal stocking filler for ‘Y’.

The reality?  Every gift I buy for my mum will be returned - sleeves too long, neck too low - and every present my teenage son will receive will have been on a list of wishes.

Cynical?  Me?  Hell, yeah!  Christmas is for kids and, once they’ve grown up, just a little bit of the fun goes out of it.  Don’t get me wrong - we always have a great time, filled with our own traditions.  My mum has her stocking after visiting us for a homemade chicken curry (!) on Christmas Eve, hubbie and I have our stockings at midnight with a glass of port (OUR time) and then our HUGE son has his stocking in our bedroom in the morning - and I’m so happy that this is still his favourite part of Christmas.

But things change, don’t they?  Kids grow, families drift apart, parents age.  MY Christmases will never be the same again - they will morph and change with every passing year.

So, this Christmas I have some very simple wishes - for my mum to remain as healthy as she is for her age, for my son to stay safe and make the right decisions in life, for my marriage to remain strong and joyous and for a miracle that means I can keep the very leaky roof over our heads.

And, if I can be greedy … to a very special man who was a massive influence in my formative years - you might be a cranky old bugger, have a lot to answer for and drifted out of my life (and others) but you are still the person who I chose to give me away at my wedding and very much loved by so many - I wish you peace and I wish you well.  You may never read this but it’s heartfelt.

So, Misfit readers, what do you have on your list of wants this year?  Put aside the ‘I want the tree lights to work first time’, and ‘I’m planning on cooking the juiciest turkey ever’, or ‘I want the kids to love their remote control car as much as I do’.  What do you REALLY want?  What would make you happy?

Think about it.  Can you make it happen?  Can you give YOURSELF the gift you want the most?

Shameless plug - but I do need to keep that roof over my head - check out my Christmas novella here or my latest chicklit novel here.  The messages are the same - it’s the little things that matter.

Enjoy the mad lead-up to the festive season but, most of all, take some time to reflect.

Tagged and Tagging

This week I was ‘Twitter Tagged’ by @rachelradiostar who blogs at Eternally 28.  She’d answered questions posed by Arwedd at Stepping out in Faith.

As I’ve given 11 facts about myself many times before, I won’t bore you with more so I’ve left that part out. I also decided to take a hotchpotch of both Rachel and Arwedd’s questions as I’d already covered some of the others in the past.  Here goes:

First crush - who and would you now?

I was desperately in love with Richard O’Sullivan from ‘Man About the House'.  I was convinced I’d marry him and, NO, I most definitely wouldn’t now!!

Most expensive single thing you have bought except houses/cars.

Cheating a little bit now but the most expensive thing I own is my engagement ring.  I never tire of looking at it and it fills my heart with joy - worth every penny.  I tried to find a picture but had no luck - it’s a true lover’s knot, set with 12 diamonds.

Your first memory.

Sitting on my potty watching ‘Crossroads’ - glam, huh?!

What was your best subject at school?

A bit predictable but it was English - I always had my head stuck in a book and loved writing stories.  In my day (!) if you wrote a really good ‘composition’ you were allowed to go to the Headmaster and get an ink star stamped on your forehead which you would proudly wear for as long as you could get away without washing!

Have you had your 15 minutes of fame yet?

Yes but I really hope I have more to come.  My short stint in ‘Grange Hill’ saw me featuring in the local paper and all the schoolboys in the area wanted to date me!  In the following clip, I can be seen with very attractive ‘spaniel ears’ perm and brown checked skirt!

'Golden balls' (TV Programme) - would you split or steal?

I’ve never seen a whole episode but it drives me nuts when people steal from their opponents.  I would be totally honest and trusting and would most definitely split.

Do you like Marmite?

I couldn’t live without it.  I use it in gravies and sauces and it’s the one thing I can face eating when I feel unwell.  I always said that if I had a child who didn’t like it, I’d send them back.  Thankfully, my son passed the test.

What story does your family always tell about you?

I am constantly reminded that I was left on the doorstep with the milk.  I wasn’t.  I had older sisters who loved to wind me up.  They have scarred me for life!

Do you bother with Christmas crackers?

Of course!  We all love a bit of tat, don’t we?  Funny story here … one New Year’s Eve my friend ‘Fenella’ called just before we were due to arrive for dinner and asked if I had any crackers.  I arrived with my box of Carr’s Water Biscuits when really she’d meant the pulling variety.

 

What’s your favourite body part and why?

I like my nails because I look after them and treat them well and my legs because they're quite slim and treat me well!

In the lead-up to the release of my Christmas novella (1^st December) I’m tagging four fellow Twitterers with the following festive questions - Michelle Betham, Donna Trinder, Lacey Dearie and Jamie Dougan.

1. What was your best ever Christmas present as a child?
2. How old were you when you began to suspect that Father Christmas may not be real?
3. What would your ideal Christmas involve?
4. Which is your favourite part of the festive season?
5. Have you ever watched the Queen’s speech?
6. Does the Christmas prep fill you with excitement or dread?
7. What would you LOVE to find under your tree this year?
8. Turkey lover or not?
9. Is there anything you eat at Christmas that you never have at any other time of year?
10. You have one wish on a blessed Christmas star - what is it?

Hope you guys enjoy those and that they help to get you into the spirit of things.

Remember ‘Stilettos & Stubble’ is out on 28^th November and ‘Christmas Deliverance’ is out on 1^st December.  My other 3 books are available at Amazon and Lulu.