Di Marcello’s Secret Son by Rachael Thomas

The challenge: to leave your billionaire lifestyle behind for two weeks…

Italian tycoon Antonio Di Marcello relishes the challenge—but running into Sadie Parker while working undercover as a mechanic rocks him to the core. Four years after their fevered fling stripped away his iron guard, he’s confronted with the shocking consequences…

Sadie has given up hope in her desperate attempts to contact Antonio. Now she has to face the day she’s both dreaded and longed for! And Antonio’s claim over her and her son is hard to resist—especially as he’ll use a sensual onslaught to get what he wants!

 

Rachael Thomas does it again! Sunshine, sizzling passion, and simmering sexual tension abound in this latest novel. Antonio Di Marcello is a real alpha male – the epitome of a rich playboy, with the billionaire lifestyle, gorgeous Italian looks, and a reputation as a real womaniser.

His first marriage to Eloisa has failed catastrophically, and as far as the press are concerned, that’s entirely down to him. His cheating ways are well documented. It seems Antonio has no heart, and no ability to love or be faithful.

Sadie is all too aware of that fact. A tempestuous weekend with Antonio took her to the heights of happiness, but she quickly crashed down to earth when Antonio abandoned her, informing her that he was to be married and telling her coldly that he can offer her nothing more. Finding herself pregnant, Sadie went to his family home to tell him of his unborn child, but was cruelly turned away by Antonio’s mother. Antonio ignored her pleading letter, and clearly wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. For three years now, Sadie has been a single parent, caring for her beloved little boy, Leo, and trying desperately to put the memory of Antonio’s cruel betrayal behind her.

When he crashes back into her life in the most unexpected way, Sadie is in turmoil. No matter what he did to her, how can she resist those dark eyes – eyes which are so like their son’s? How can she hide the passion he still ignites in her? Yet, when it becomes clear that Antonio has deceived her yet again, and that he has a very clear motive for wanting her back in his life, she knows she must hide her true feelings at all costs.

For how could a man like Antonio ever bring her happiness, when he is incapable of love?

Taking the reader on a whirlwind journey through Rome, a Caribbean island, London, and an English country estate, Rachael Thomas creates a page-turning story of a cat-and-mouse game where the stakes are high for everyone involved. Can Antonio be the father he always wanted to be? Can he be the husband Sadie deserves? Or will his cold upbringing bring nothing but disaster for his new wife and child? Read it and find out! You won’t be disappointed. 5/5

You can buy Di Marcello’s Secret Son here.

A Cuppa and a Catch-Up

You can’t beat a cup of tea

It’s May! I can hardly believe it. Happy Bank Holiday to you all, and – as my good friend Rhiannon Bone would say – a very blessed Beltane, too.

Pull up a chair, grab yourselves a cuppa, and let’s have a good old catch-up, shall we?

I am very well aware that I haven’t been around much on here lately. I apologise – again. I have been incredibly busy, working on not just one, not just two, but three different writing projects.

The first of these is currently having a final proofread. I have had a gorgeous cover designed for me by the lovely, and very patient, Berni Stevens,  and I’m just waiting now to make any final corrections before things move on to the publishing stage.

New book coming soon!

There will be a cover reveal and a pre-order date coming very soon, but I can tell you that the book is due for publication around mid-June. It’s not a Kearton Bay book, nor a Skimmerdale book, but it’s very close to my heart. It’s set on the Yorkshire Moors, not far from Kearton Bay (!) and a scene takes place in Helmston, so readers of the KB series will feel on familiar territory. We have brand new characters, including a heroine I loved and a hero I fell completely in love with. I’m always nervous when I’m about to have a book published, but I really hope you’ll enjoy it.

I’ve also been working on the second Skimmerdale book, and it’s been great fun to be back in the Yorkshire Dales with my old friends. I’ve especially enjoyed renewing my acquaintance with hunky sheep farmer, Eliot, but that’s me. I’m shameless. I’m not sure when this book will be published but I will definitely keep you updated when I know more.

Thirdly, I’ve been writing a Christmas book, and that should be coming out in late October/early November. It’s set in and around Farthingdale and Moreton Cross – villages that also appear in the Kearton Bay series – but will feature completely different characters. I’ve been getting to know a very different sort of heroine in this one. She’s quite challenging, and she has a rather lovely fella whose life she’s about to turn upside down – or is she? Hmm…

Can’t believe my book’s in the libraries!

So, as you can imagine, it’s been all go lately, and that’s why I’ve neglected the blog and for that I can only apologise. Hopefully, you’ll all think it was worth it in the end. 🙂

What else have I been up to? Well, I sent off a story to the lovely folks at The People’s Friend, and it was accepted. It’s going to be published as a pocket novel on July 27th. It’s provisionally called The Doctor’s Daughter, although that may change. I’ll be publishing it on Kindle at some point in the near future, but it’s always lovely to see a copy of your work on the shelves of WH Smith or a supermarket – even if it’s only for a couple of weeks. My previous pocket novel, All Because of Baxter, has been published in large print format by Ulverscroft, and copies of that should be in various libraries right now. That’s made me very happy, as I spent practically my entire childhood in one library or another, and I never dreamt in a million years that one of my books would be on the shelves one day. It just shows you!

I’ve also been setting up a new website. You may notice that several pages of this blog have gone missing, and that’s because they’ve been incorporated into my new site instead. However, this blog will remain, as will the book reviews, and there will be a link to these pages on my new website. It’s been quite a faff for someone as technically challenged as me, I can tell you! Find me at http://www.sharonboothwriter.com

Me and Jessica in a very windy, cold Scarborough!

It hasn’t ALL been work, though. On Saturday I ventured out of my writing room into the real world. I caught the train to Scarborough to visit my lovely friend and fellow Write Romantic, Jessica Redland, who was giving a talk at the Seastrand Cafe on the seafront. We had a fabulous day, and even though the talk didn’t go quite as planned, we had a lot of fun. Mind you, the weather was a bit grim. My teeth were chattering! Of course, it WAS a British Bank Holiday weekend so I should have known. 🙂 You can read all about Jessica’s event here.

So, I think we’re all caught up for now. My cup of tea has actually gone cold, so I’m off to put the kettle on.

Have a great week.

The Lost Children by Helen Phifer

After a previous case ended in a tragic double murder, Detective Lucy Harwin, has been on enforced absence from the force. But when the body of an elderly man is discovered in an abandoned hospital, she is plunged straight back into a case that will test her to breaking point.

For decades, The Moore housed the forgotten children of Northern coastal town, Brooklyn Bay. But ever since a scandal forced its closure, the abandoned building has been left untouched.

Together with her partner, Detective Mattie Jackson, Lucy begins to unearth its terrible history, and soon finds herself on the trail of a killer ruthlessly fixated on avenging the crimes of the past.

As Lucy begins to close in on the killer, a woman is found murdered on her own doorstep. With the attacks escalating, and those closest to her now a target, can Lucy protect them and herself before it’s too late?

 

This is a really gripping story of revenge and murder, and I think it’s possibly my favourite of Helen Phifer’s books so far. It definitely pulled me in from the first page, and the action never stops. A really grisly murder in an old asylum – how can it not hold your attention and make your heart beat just that little bit faster?
I’m a fan of this author’s Annie Graham books, so I wondered if Lucy Harwin would appeal as much. She did. I could relate to the overworked detective, whose husband had walked out on her for another woman, and whose daughter, Ellie, is struggling with issues around their separation, her mother’s obsession with her job, coping with a new family, and all the other teenage angst that girls of her age have to deal with. Lucy is battling the inevitable guilt over Ellie, sadness over losing her husband, and the aftermath of events in her professional past, which have led to her being ordered to undergo counselling.
When the first murder occurs, it puts added pressure on Lucy’s and Ellie’s relationship, as, before long, Lucy is in the grip of an all-consuming police investigation, involving an old asylum, the people who once worked there, and the patients they “treated” – the lost children. As the body count rises, Lucy and her sidekick, Mattie, find themselves in a race against time. Someone is out for revenge, and the killer is showing no mercy.
My thoughts on who this killer could be changed throughout the course of the novel. It wasn’t until I nearly reached the end of the book that I realised who it was. I’d been led down another path very cleverly by the author.
This is, I believe, the first in a new series of Lucy Harwin novels, and I’m very much looking forward to seeing where the character goes next. Helen Phifer is a gifted storyteller, and I’m half dreading what poor Lucy will have to cope with next. Loved the Stephen King character, by the way! Lovely touch. 5/5

You can buy The Lost Children here.

The 20’s Girl, the Ghost, and All That Jazz by June Kearns

1924. The English Shires, after the Great War.
When her jazzing flapper of an aunt dies, Gerardina Mary Chiledexter inherits some silver-topped scent bottles, a wardrobe of love-affair clothes, and astonishingly, a half-share in a million-acre ranch in south-west Texas.
Haunted by a psychic cat and the ghost voice of that aunt Leonie, Gerry feels driven to travel thousands of miles to see the ranch for herself.
Against a background of big sky, cattle barons and oil wells, she is soon engaged in a game of power, pride and ultimately, love, with the Texan who owns the other half.

I have absolutely no idea why it’s taken me so long to get round to reading this book. I think I’ve had it on my Kindle since publication day, and I also have the beautiful shiny paperback, too. No excuses. Somehow, time slipped away from me and the book remained unread. Until yesterday, when I switched on my Kindle, scrolled through the long (very long) list of books on the device, saw the pretty cover of this novel and tapped on the image. I began reading and…Wow!

It’s quite a long novel, but I read it in two straight sittings over two consecutive days. I would have devoured it in one day, if it wasn’t the inconvenience of having a pesky day job. Yes, it was that good.

It’s the story of Gerardina Chiledexter – Gerry to her friends. Gerry was the product of two rather selfish, uncaring parents, and spent her childhood being passed around from one reluctant relative to another, until good fortune landed her on the doorstep of her mother’s sister, Leonie. Leonie was unlike anyone Gerry has ever known – beautiful, elegant, and huge fun. More than that, she made Gerry feel welcome, wanted, loved. After Leonie’s death, Gerry is struggling. She misses her aunt. She misses that sense of belonging. And she’s drowning in debt, because, the one thing that Leonie wasn’t, was good with money. Leonie lived for the day, and she didn’t put finances in place to pay her bills, leaving Gerry with a huge headache. She’s running her aunt’s bookshop and it’s in massive danger of closing. She owes money to just about everyone, the building is falling down around her ears, and no one seems particularly interested in buying books. It seems her only option may be to accept the desperate proposal of Archie, in spite of his parents’ very obvious disapproval and muttered objections.

Then, unexpectedly, Gerry is thrown a lifeline. Out of the blue, she discovers that – as Leonie’s only heir – she has been left half of a ranch in Texas, by a man she has never met, but who intended to leave it to her aunt. She is given this news by the owner of the other half. His name is Coop, and he’s not too happy about discovering that the land he thought was all his is now shared with this odd, stubborn, Englishwoman, with a very weird dress sense.

Events – and a ghostly presence – conspire to send Gerry over to Texas, where she is determined to take a good look around the ranch for herself, before agreeing to Coop’s request – or should that be order? – that she sell her half to him. Texas is an alien world, and Gerry struggles to fit in. Coop doesn’t seem keen to help her adapt, and neither does anyone else in that hostile territory, particularly the feral Scoot, and the high-and-mighty Hallie-Lee.  Gerry truly believed she was going to America at the wishes of her deceased aunt. At times, she feels Leonie’s presence so strongly that she can actually hear her aunt’s voice in her ear, smell her perfume, hear the swish of her dress across the floor. At other times, she feels abandoned and alone. Has she made a dreadful mistake in travelling so far away from home?

After spending several awkward and uncomfortable months on the ranch, Gerry makes some discoveries about her business partner, and comes to a decision that is guaranteed to stir up trouble back in England – something which is quickly confirmed on her return. Hurt, bewildered, and absolutely broke, it seems Gerry’s troubles will never be over. But was Leonie’s guidance really just a product of her over-active imagination, or is  her aunt still trying to give her niece the happy ending she deserves?

This book is so beautifully written. The descriptions are perfection. With a few deft lines, June Kearns transports the reader to the dusty plains of Texas, and lets you feel the scorching heat on your back, before taking you back to England, where the cosy, damp, cricket-and-afternoon-tea environment comes alive within a paragraph or two of clever prose.

The characterisations are excellent. Coop is an enigmatic, alpha male, with a brooding presence and hidden depths. I absolutely adored Gerry, with her can-do attitude, and her determination to carry on without complaining, in spite of some pretty appalling treatment by far too many people. I loved the stoic Prim, the kindly Doc, the wildcat Scoot and poor, dear Archie – he of the hideously awful parents and the dark, desperate secret.

I loved the way England was contrasted with Texas, and against all my expectations, I enjoyed the American segment of the book as much as the English ones. The addition of the ghostly presence of the wonderful Leonie was a touch of genius, and as for the quotes at the beginning of each chapter – priceless! For instance, “Women approaching thirty may have lost all chance of inspiring affection.” (Advice to Miss-All-Alone, 1924), and “Try not to have ‘opinions’. Rather, learn to cook a decent dinner.” (How to Attract a Man, 1923). The book beautifully illustrates a serious point, however, which is that in the 1920s, thanks to the First World War and the ‘flu epidemic, men of a marriageable age were in very short supply, and there were many, many women who faced a lifetime of spinsterhood – not half as much fun in those days as it is now! So I could really feel for Gerry, who, fast approaching thirty, had given up all expectation of marriage, and was therefore even more desperate to earn a reasonable living. I could quite understand that she would consider accepting Archie’s proposal, even though she knows that marriage to him could never make her happy.

Like An Englishwoman’s Guide to the Cowboy, June’s previous novel, this book contrasts a young Englishwoman, her lifestyle and manners, with a hunky American male, used to behaving in a very different manner to the gentlemen the heroine usually meets, and she does it with love, humour and understanding. I loved her first book, and I actually think this one is even better.  I’m sort of sorry I left it so long, but then again, I’m glad to have had the pleasure of Coop’s and Gerry’s company this last couple of days. An excellent book. I really hope there’s a new one from this author very soon. 5/5

You can buy The 20’s Girl, The Ghost, and All That Jazz here.

The Saturday Secret by Linda Huber

This world sometimes feels like a very harsh place to be, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by how much anger and general nastiness there seems to be out there. It’s good, therefore, to escape to a place where happy endings are guaranteed. Sometimes, you just need to pick up a book and lose yourself in a story that makes you feel warm, happy, and optimistic again.

The Saturday Secret is such a book – packed with short stories that are pure feel-good entertainment.  It’s extremely easy to read, and although I planned to just read one or two stories at a time I actually read it in two halves. The first half was read some weeks ago and then, thanks to real life intruding, I had to sacrifice reading time for a while. I picked up the book again today – call it my Mother’s Day treat! It was lovely to slip back into that cosy world, and find that the second half was just as good as the first.

The stories are delightful, featuring children, babies, elderly people, kittens, dogs, loving couples, affectionate families and lots more besides.

My personal favourites were We’re Having a Baby! The Cat’s Whiskers,  After Rebecca, and the short – but incredibly poignant – Corrina’s Big Day.  The short story that gives the book its title also made me smile. I won’t give away what The Saturday Secret actually is, but let’s just say it gave me hope. 🙂

A really gorgeous collection of short stories by a writer who clearly has a gift for capturing those precious moments in a person’s life and weaving a wonderful tale around them.  I thoroughly enjoyed it and highly recommend it to those looking for an escape route into a happy place!   5/5

You can buy The Saturday Secret here, and, as an added bonus, profits from this lovely book are being donated to Doctors Without Borders.

The Island Legacy by Ruth Saberton

island-legacyWhen Ness Penwellyn unexpectedly inherits a Cornish island it isn’t long before she encounters property developer, Max Reynard. Wealthy and wickedly handsome, Max is accustomed to getting his own way but Ness is unimpressed. His assumption she’ll sell her inheritance to him makes Ness determined to go it alone – even while bitter relatives plot revenge and circumstances begin to spiral out of control.

Max Reynard is a rich and powerful playboy. Used to winning, in matters of business and the heart, he’s shocked to meet a woman able to resist his money and good looks. And when he realises he wants Ness even more than he wants her property, Max knows he’s in big trouble.

Before long Ness and Max are locked in a battle of wills. And when love’s involved, the rules of engagement are soon broken …

I discovered Ruth Saberton some years ago, when she released Katy Carter Wants a Hero. Having holidayed several times in Polperro, I could picture the scenes she was describing in that book so clearly, and I loved the style of writing.  Some years later, having read Escape for the Summer, I decided that had replaced Katy as my new Ruth Saberton favourite. However, I’ve just finished The Island Legacy, and I can say, hand on heart, this isn’t just my favourite of Ruth’s books so far, but it’s also one of the best romantic books I’ve read in the last few years.

I was completely hooked from the start. A hint of mystery kicks off the story, and the scene is set…And talking of scenes, oh my word! The book is set in Cornwall, and it’s so obvious that the author lives in that glorious county, because she describes it so magnificently that I felt as if I was right there with the sun in my face, tasting the salt spray, hearing the lapping of waves and the cries of the seagulls, gazing across the causeway to the magical St Pirran’s Island and staring in awe at the ruins of Pirran Castle.

As a fan of Enid Blyton’s Famous Five, I couldn’t help but think of Kirrin Island, but that only added to the magic for me. Clearly, St Michael’s Mount is the inspiration for St Pirran’s, and it’s made me want to head over there and visit for myself! There is something quite special about islands, after all, and there’s something very special about Cornwall, so a Cornish island was inevitably going to produce something extraordinary, and this story really is outstanding.

Every character was a joy to spend time with: the fragile Fern with her mysterious past; handsome and cheery Merryn, who transports the tourists to the island on his boat, when the causeway is covered by the sea; gifted, grieving Adam and his musically-talented little boy, Josh; Merryn’s unusual gran, Rose; the wonderfully kind and caring, but terribly put-upon Lucy; strong-willed, determined Ness; and equally stubborn Max, a man who dabbles in the shallow waters of flashy boats, trashy girlfriends, and showy buildings, yet dives the depths of kindness, charity and compassion.

Then there are the characters who are no longer alive, but whose story threads through the lives of the island family. Why did the famous, talented composer Armand stop making music? Why did the three brothers fall out? What really happened to Ness’s mother, the beautiful but tragic Beth? And, perhaps most puzzling of all, why did Armand leave St Pirran’s Island to Ness?

Ness wants answers to all these questions, and she is determined to find them, in spite of the best efforts of her cousin Jamie, whose fury at being denied what he considers his birthright knows no limits. In spite of Lucy’s attempts to defend her brother, Ness knows Jamie is not to be trusted, and the fact that he appears to be in league with Max Reynard only confirms her suspicions about both men. But Max is a complex man – certainly not the sort of person he initially appears to be. He certainly meets his match in Ness, who is far from impressed by money or reputation, but is frighteningly vulnerable to a pair of grey eyes…

Max is equally enthralled by long, red hair and sea-green eyes, so, as the two begin a relationship that is, outwardly at least, purely a tug of war for ownership of the island, below the surface passions flare and desire smoulders.  But Ness is determined to hang on to St Pirran’s Island one way or the other, and Max is used to getting what he wants, and what he wants most in the world is that island. Or is it?

As the summer unfolds, both Max and Ness have to think carefully about what really matters to them, and the answer may not be what they thought at all.

With three gorgeous romances unfolding, a villain that the reader will love to hate, a mystery to solve, an ancient castle, a beautiful island, a fabulous Cornish setting, and a hero and heroine who are absolutely compelling, this is a novel to treasure. I really can’t praise it enough, and, although I was turning the pages as fast as I could, to find out what would happen, I was so sorry to finally reach the end and leave St Pirran’s behind me. I suspect it will be a book I return to again. Like Cornwall itself, it’s something I just can’t bear to say goodbye to forever. 5/5

You can buy The Island Legacy here.

Going Backwards to Move Forwards

Oh, the joys of writing! Just when you think you’ve got it sussed, that things are coming together, that everything’s finally working out, bang! There’s another obstacle in your path, and you have to stop, try not to panic, wrack your brains to work out who put that obstacle there and how the heck you’re going to move it. Sometimes, you wonder why you bother, but deep down, you know you bother because you care. Because it matters. Because you love it. But, boy, can it be tough going.

learner_l_plate_sticker_largeThose of you who have followed this blog for a long time (thank you! Aren’t you good?) may remember that – back in the mists of time – I used to have driving lessons. Those were the days. I wasn’t the most confident of drivers, but then, I’m not the most confident at anything – a fact that is pointed out to me with annoying frequency by a variety of well-meaning friends and family members. I was fifty. My mind was turning to mush. My concentration and memory weren’t as they used to be. I had – you know – stuff to deal with. All things which convinced me, deep down, that I would never pass my test. I was doomed to fail. And so I did.

The annoying thing is, I would have passed but for one stupid mistake. I went into the wrong lane at a roundabout and ended up cutting lanes which, my examiner duly informed me, was a serious error and instant failure. So that was that. Now, if I’d had a brain cell to spare, I would have sulked a bit, had a good moan about the unfairness of grumpy driving examiners, miserable weather, busy traffic, stupid roundabout rules and life in general, then I would have booked the test again and carried on with driving lessons in the meantime. But me, being me, I decided I was rubbish at driving and didn’t venture near a car again – except as an increasingly nervous passenger.

In my defence, I moved house twice within six weeks of my test – yes, honestly! – and had my daughter’s wedding to attend, and then it was Christmas…You know how it goes. So the driving got put on the back burner, and as time went on, well, my nerve just failed. I didn’t have the courage to think about taking another driving test. They were far too scary and stressful. The longer I waited, the more scared I got. It got to the point where even the thought of driving a car terrified me. What if I made a mistake? What if I hurt someone? Or worse? Cars are lethal weapons, after all. Better to stick to buses.

Hmm. People who follow me on Facebook might have become aware that my bus journeys into work every day are bus-923199_1920an ordeal. Buses running late, learner bus drivers who take forty-five minutes to complete a twenty-five minute journey, thus making me miss the second bus and causing me to be late for work, gridlocked traffic around the bus station, and a variety of, er, interesting passengers and scary encounters…No, public transport isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Not when you have to get two buses to work every day, at any rate. I was permanently stressed about it, and the recent dismal weather hasn’t helped. You get a lot of time to think, standing at bus stops in the pouring rain, watching smug people driving by in their cars. And what I was thinking, mainly, was, why the hell didn’t I retake my test?

chalkboard-1927332_1920So, almost three and a half years on from failing that first attempt, I plucked up the courage to contact my driving instructor, and, to my enormous relief, she was ready and willing to pick up where we left off. Last week, I got back into the driving seat. My hands were shaking, my heart was pounding, and my legs had turned to jelly, but I did it. Within ten minutes, the nerves had all but gone, and I was enjoying myself. Yes, I made loads of mistakes. Yes, she had to coax me along, remind me to change gear, direct me into the right lane at the roundabouts (dratted roundabouts!) but I was remembering that I used to enjoy driving. How had I forgotten?

I’ve just had my second lesson. I loved it. Yes, it was annoying because she seems intent on making me drive round every roundabout in the city, but I’m remembering now about slowing down, changing gear, getting in the right lane, checking the mirror, indicating, not going too fast…It’s coming back to me. It’s slotting into place. It’s making sense. And I know that, at some point, I’ll be ready for the driving test again, and hopefully I will pass. And if I don’t, well, I’ll take it again until I do pass. As long as I’ve learned how to drive, passing the test is just a matter of time.

And what has this got to do with writing? Well, I’ve been struggling lately with The New Book. It was all going so well board-228826_1280at first. The words flowed, the idea seemed like a good one, I was having fun…Then, suddenly, I hit a wall. It was like, okay, but now what? I knew where I wanted to end up, but I had no idea how to get there. Reading the last scene I’d written, the other day, I realised it was a pointless scene; it didn’t further the story, it added nothing to it. It was filler. A stop gap. A way of telling myself that I was still writing and the book was moving forward. A bit like telling yourself that you have an awful lot going on, and the driving lessons can wait for a while.

Then I stopped writing all week, because I was too scared that I was making things worse. What if I wrote myself into a dead end? What if I ended up ruining all the good stuff I’d already written by adding rubbish? What if I ended up absolutely hating the whole project? You know. A bit like telling yourself that the buses are getting you to work every day, anyway, so what does it matter if you can’t drive?

Yesterday, I sat and had a long think about The New Book. I took it back to basics. What did the heroine want? What did the hero want? What was stopping them from getting what they wanted?  What was this book about?

light-bulb-1002783_1920I opened a document, and I began to type. Not a new scene, but working out the answers to those questions. I looked back at the scenes I’d already written. I saw what fitted with those answers and what didn’t. I understood which parts would have to be cut, and what needed to be added to move the story forwards. I wrote a brief outline for future scenes which would keep the story moving in the right direction. The fear left me. I realised that, as long as I understood how to drive the book along, and where I was going with it, successful completion was just a matter of time.

Sometimes, you have to go backwards to move forwards. You can’t just get into a car after three and a half years and expect to be test-ready instantly. You have to relearn, remember, build yourself back up and absorb the instruction. And you can’t always write the first draft of a book from beginning to end, no matter how much you think you’ve planned it, and no matter how sure you are that you know where you’re going. You have to pause, think about it, restructure, re-plot, cut, take a deep breath…Mirror, signal, manoeuvre, and off you go again.

I’ll get there in the end – with both things!

Have a great week.

Sharonxxx (3)