L.A. Dale

Happy Birthday KINDLE GIVEAWAY!!!

2012-02-12T10:16:00.000+08:00

I can't believe it's been a year since Perhaps... Perhaps first took off on Amazon! I'm so pleased that you liked my story and are still buying it after all this time!!

Anyway, to celebrate this occasion... and to say thank you to everyone who has bought a book over the last year, I thought I'd have a little competition. First Prize will be a KINDLE 3G+WIFI!!!

There'll also be some eBook vouchers for runners up.

So, here's the rules...

1. Purchase a copy of Perhaps... Perhaps on Amazon Kindle (UK or US) between Valentines Day and the end of February 2012.

2. Sign up for a newsletter on the right hand side of this blog.

3. Email me your order summary for your purchase. The email address is glrahnatgmaildotcom. The order summary looks like the one below.... I've blotted out the name of the book I bought but you should leave yours in tact.

Order Summary:

Details:

Order #:	************
Subtotal of items:	$0.00
	------
Total before tax:	$0.00
Sales Tax:	$0.00
	------
Total for this Order:	$0.00

We have auto delivered the following item to your Kindle or other device. You can view more information about this order by clicking on the Manage Your Kindle page atAmazon.com.

********** [Kindle Edition] $0.00
Sold By: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.

THEN....

4. Tweet and FB the hell out of this post if you're feeling nice. And I know you all are but whether you want to is entirely up to you. :)
Of course, you can enter as many times as you like by buying other L.A Dale titles and sending entries to me BUT your first purchase should be Perhaps... Perhaps (unless you already own it hehe) and at only .99c who could say no!

WINNERS WILL CHOSEN AT RANDOM AND WILL BE ANNOUNCED ON THIS BLOG ON MARCH 1 2012 OR AS CLOSE TO AS I CAN MANAGE.

ANYONE CAN ENTER - AS LONG AS A KINDLE CAN BE SENT TO YOUR COUNTRY!!

ENJOY, HAVE FUN & THANKS AGAIN FOR SUPPORTING MY BOOKS

Embarrassing Moments

2012-02-12T09:47:00.000+08:00

I've been laying my life out in the Twitterverse recently by sharing some of my most embarrassing moments ~ in no particular life order. No, they were not funny at the time but now.... hey, they make for good stories! Here's a few....

Embarrassing Moment 1:
Asking receptionist directions to building I was standing in front of while she's watching me out of window.
Embarrassing Moment 2:
Putting hospital gown on backwards. But come on, they really don't have a front. Do they?
Embarrassing Moment 3:
Walking into a mirror-covered pole in David Jones and apologising to it. Shop assistants found that one particularly amusing.
Embarrassing Moment 4:
Walking length of black-tie rugby dinner with sexy black dress tucked into hot pink knickers. #deservedthatstandingovation
Embarrassing Moment 5:
Fainting from paper cut, then having seizure and wetting pants. At work. #hmm
Embarrassing Moment 6:
Asking parent with cross eyes when she was having the operation done - after she'd had it.#oops
Embarrassing Moment 7:
Baby pooing all over white trousers in full doctor's surgery and not having anything to clean it up with. #yuck
Embarrassing Moment 8:
Falling down stairs in Qantas Club whilst wearing Ally McBeal style miniskirt and landing at feet of business men. Completely sober too! Just wanted another chance to show my knickers.
Embarrassing moment 9:
Having to explain to boss that dislocated thumb and bruising was only from dancing at the rugby club.
Embarrassing moment 10:
Calling younger brother 'adopted' for forty years and then finding out he was. #oops.
And don't say you haven't done that!!!

So guys.... tell me about your embarrassing moments. *wink*
Best one wins a free book coupon for L.A Dale book of your choice.

Ouch! subtitled @#$%

2012-02-11T23:21:00.000+08:00

Humiliation? Embarrassment? Pain? Anger?

Or all of the above? What word could possibly describe my day?

Yesterday I had the dubious honour of attending the local Diagnostic Centre to have a mammogram and ultrasound. For girls, the excitement of such a day can only be surpassed by that other fabulous experience - the PAP smear and thank God I wasn't to be involved in that activity as well! Having never been to the hospital in question, I arrived ten or so minutes early. Lucky for me. The hospital was in the middle of major building works and half of it was covered in hessian. I couldn't see a sign anywhere and so, becoming a little worried that I had actually gone to the wrong place, I rang the reception to ask for direction.

Okay. Embarrassing moment number one *insert red face here*. I was actually standing in front of the building I was meant to be in talking to the lady who was looking at me through the window. #Oops.

Having recovered myself, I went inside and was lead down the corridor to a cubicle where the lovely Victoria gave me a gown to put on my top half. Stunning things hospital gowns, so....generic... especially when worn back to front. Cue embarrassing moment number two.

Then came the fun part. I had to take off the back to front gown and have my boob laid flat and squashed like a pancake in the xray machine. Victoria did her best to make me feel less awkward but seriously, she had my boob in her hand. A conversation about the weather didn't really cut it. Not after she informed me she may have to take extra shots if the first lot didn't come out well. It's my boob, Victoria, I thought. Give it your best. It's not going to smile and say cheese! She took a few photos and let me put my sexy gown back on. Then, after ten minutes or so, we went down the hall to the ultrasound room.

Here, nice girl number two greeted me and tried to make me feel comfortable by telling me the gown was still on back to front and it might be easier if I turned it round the right way to preserve my dignity. God, I'd lost it way before then. She then proceeded to invite the entire staff of the centre into the tiny space to have a picnic while she chatted on and gave me the ultrasound. Clearly, it was lunchtime for some.

Turns out the Ultrasound wasn't as rosy as expected. I needed a core biopsy to go along with it - In came yet another doctor who asked me if I was allergic to anything.

"Only needles," I joked, giving him a brief run down on the possibility of embarrassing moment number three occurring. IE: me fainting, having a seizure and wetting my pants after him giving me a needle. Needles don't actually bother me. They just bother my body and send it into shock. I'm used to it but I could tell the poor doctor was a bit freaked out. He sent the nurse out to prepare the crash cart just in case.

So, he tells me how the procedure goes. All fairly straight forward if you like spending your lunch hour with a metal probe poked into your chest while other people eat sandwiches and type stuff on the computer. Then he gave me the local.

Now clearly, he was either overcome by my beauty at this stage or still freaked by the fact that I could faint at any point because he didnt give me enough anesthetic. And you can guess what happened a few minutes later.

Right in the middle of probe three, I felt the most excruciating pain at which I yelled some words that begin with 'f' and cannot be said in front of children. His response? "It must be a sensitive area."

Geez, ya reckon?

"Let's try another spot," he said and began to push and prod some more.

This time I almost kicked him. I began to cry before promptly announcing I was about to faint if he didnt get that thing out of me. That got some action.

"Maybe the anesthetic is wearing off?" he thought aloud.

Was he kidding? #cerealboxdegree?

"What would you like me to do?" he asked.

"Well, how about you give me some more?" I said sweetly. Really. I did want to say something else but I was too busy trembling, crying and trying not to faint to swear at him.

The whole thing took twenty minutes, at which point they let me get dressed and sent me out the the accounts department. $900 people!! That's how much they charged me! $900 for an hour of humiliation, pain and anger.

If I hadn't been so truamatised I would have thrown a real hissy fit.

Would YOU keep reading?

2012-01-21T10:32:00.000+08:00

Having re-written the first chapter of The Cupcake Guy, I'd like to know if you're hooked enough to want to keep on reading.....

Chapter1

“Are you serious?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Looking across the counter at Connor, Oliviaswallowed her shock, trying to take control of the hurt that was suddenlyraging inside. His round blue eyes were staring at her, filled with the kind oflook that told her he couldn’t understand why he’d gone out with such a loserin the first place. There wasn’t a hint of guilt or sadness.

Olivia sniffed, her blood beginning to boil. Howcould this have happened? What could she have possibly done this time? Shehadn’t mentioned the ‘L’ word. Shehadn’t been needy or clingy. Everything had been going so well.

After a whirlwind romance that began withtheir eyes meeting over the organic bananas at the supermarket, Olivia andConnor had gone on six dates in three weeks. Connor had been the perfect gentleman, in fact so much of agentleman, that Olivia became a little concerned when he hadn’t put the hardword on her. She was beginning to think he might be secretly gay, one of thosepoor fellows who couldn’t come out and say it so they went out with untoldamounts of girls to prove themselves wrong in their own minds.

Connor had told her he loved her hair and thathe liked the fact that she had her own business. He’d complemented her sense ofhumour and whispered some very dirty little sweet nothings in her ear. Andthough he’d balked at meeting her mother well, actually picking her up from hermother’s place - they’d had a romantic picnic under the willow tree at ApexPark with a bottle of Moet, for God’s sake. Now he was putting her back ontothe reject pile? What had she done?

“Does this have anything to do with lastnight?” It was the only possible reason he could give.

Last night had been the first time she andConnor had done the deed. Olivia had been so convinced that he was the one; shehadn’t wanted to have sex until the moment had been exactly right. Havingdecided that his cooking dinner for her at his place was probably the righttime, she’d shaved and plucked her body into submission and even bought a newmatching set of lingerie for the occasion. Connor loved red. Or so he’d said.

Funnily enough, she’d sensed a certainhesitance on his part after he’d stripped her of her jeans and top. It was asif his whole demeanor changed when he discovered that she wasn’t the kind ofgirl who looked good in a g-string. Which may also have had something to dowith his clamouring to switch out the light. At the time, she’d put it down tonerves, the newness of the relationship. But now, well…?

Connor shifted uncomfortably and looked athis feet. He couldn’t even meether eyes. “No, not at all. It’s nothing to do with last night. I don’t thinkit’s going to work between us, that’s all.”

“Did I suck or something?”

“Of course not.”

She knew she hadn’t. Olivia had certain skills that had beendescribed as ‘bloody marvellous’ and ‘fucking awesome’ in the past.Unfortunately, they didn’t appear to be enough of a lure for Connor.

“Then why?”

Connor let out a great big sigh. “Look. Ijust don’t find you that attractive with your clothes off, if you really wantto know.”

Olivia’s eyes opened so wide they actuallyhurt.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have cellulite, Livvy. Your bum looks like an unpeeled orange.You don’t look good naked. In fact, you’re way fatter than you lead me tobelieve.”

Olivia blinked. She didn’t know whether to be mad or upset or both. Whatdrugs was he on? So she wore slimming jeans and a push-up bra. Every girl did. And they didn’t changethe shape of you that much. It was all marketing hype.

“Is that why we had to have the light off?”

“Partly.”

“What was the rest of the reason?”

“I thought you were a natural blonde.Re-growth is a real turn off for me.”

Oh for God’s sake, nobody was a naturalblonde at their age.

“So let me get this straight, you don’t wantto go out with me anymore because you feel you’ve been misled?”

“Something like that. Look, Livvy, I’m reallysorry.”

“For what? Calling me fat or for the factthat you’re a complete arsehole? Tell me, was all that wining and dining justto get me in the sack?”

“NO!”

Which totally meant it was.

“How many other girls have you picked up inthe banana aisle?”

Now he looked sheepish. She’d caught thesleaze bag out. “Only a couple. But listen, I like you - as a person - and I’dbe totally willing to go out with you again after you drop ten or so kilos.”

“Oh. My. God. You creep. Youabsolute creep. Get out! Get out now!”

Shoving him towards the exit, Olivia pushedhim down the two steps that led to the footpath. She was so tempted to kick hisbum on the way out.

“Oh, and Connor?”

He turned back.

“I might be able to lose a few kilos butyou’re not going to be able to hide that bald spot by combing hair over it formuch longer.”

Olivia went back into the shop, shutting thedoor in his face. Grabbing her keys, she flipped the sign to ‘Back in 5minutes’ and bolted down the road to the Maggie’s Bakery. She was well aware that it was twoo’clock in the afternoon, and the lunch trade would have cleaned out hershelves but if Maggie didn’t have any peppermint slice left there was going tobe hell to pay.

The Princess and the Rugby Player

2012-01-13T16:03:00.003+08:00

Having grown up in a family of rugby fanatics it wasn't surprising that Princess, the youngest in our clan has also developed a penchant for the game and the men who play it. I'm completely addicted to the game and Big G and Guitar Boy were very good players in their day (Guitar Boy, of course, has gone on to become an aspiring rock star - not exactly compatible with being a rugby star as you need body parts intact in order to play instruments.)

Anyone who has followed this blog for a while will know of Princess's massive crush on former Western Force star, James O'Connor and the story of how she followed him around our neighbourhood to woo him (some call it stalking, I think). Today, I'm breaking the news that IT'S OVER. Yes, Princess has a new love.

At the end of last year, James O'Connor announced he was leaving the Force to play for the Melbourne team, The Rebels (boo, hiss). This, of course, was met with cries of

"Oh my God, my life is over," and "Do you think I can transfer to a Melbourne Uni?" from Princess who did not understand that after a player has left our team we no longer like him. In fact, he is the enemy.

Busy planning her move to Melbourne in her head, she was completely taken aback when, while standing in the gelati shop in Leederville, she came across three of the Force players. Two she knew of - one being the Craig McLachlin look-alike Nick Cummins - the other she had never seen before because he'd spent much of last season on the sidelines after being totally stitched up at the judiciary for a spear tackle. Apparently, it was love at first sight. Not with Craig McLachlin, he needs a bit of a hair cut.

Princess was instantly on the phone to me wanting to know who the Force player was that looks like Emmett from Twilight. I thought of Rory Sidey because, basically, nobody else on the team looks anything like that. Of course, Big G didn't understand how I knew who she could possibly be talking about, never having seen Twilight, but I took a punt and googled a pic of him, sending it to her phone.

"Oh my God, that's him!" she texted back. "He's way cuter than James O'Connor."

I'm sure Rory would be pleased to hear that, although I don't know how he'll cope having assumed the role of God in my daughter's eyes.

A couple of months have passed and her obsession with Mr Sidey doesn't seem to have waned. Today on Twitter I saw his @ tag and clicked through, not even realising the poor boy had a twitter page. This is what I was greeted with... (see pic) along with a bio reading rugby player AND law student. What mother wouldn't want a son-in-law with credentials like that? Yes, he may be a little mature for Princess but older boys are nice so I'm totally giving my blessing for her to marry Rory. (Assuming he's single of course. I wouldn't want to be party to the breaking up of any relationships.) Besides, I never liked James anyway. He's a very good player but I think the only love affair he'll ever be in is with his hair.

So, if you're at a game this season and you see a beautiful young girl sitting down the front with a pair of binoculars next to a woman wearing blue who's swearing at the Foxtel man to get out of the way, don't be alarmed. It's probably Princess indulging in her new crush.

PS: (The picture above is courtesy of Rory Sidey's Twitter profile. I hope he doesn't mind but if he does I can always take it down)

Here's a Taster....

2012-01-09T15:51:00.000+08:00

Just in case you may be wondering what's going on with Cam and Lacey ....

Chapter 1

High above Angel’s Bend the sun rose in clouds of gold and amber,casting a warm glow over the sleeping town. As the sun hit the windows of the houses below, sparks oflight flashed into the sky here and there. Windows began to open to the magpies’ morning song, bodiesstretched behind curtains making ready for the day.

On top of the boulder at Angel’s Peak, Lacey lay sleeping with herhead in Cam’s lap. Her dark hair fanned over his knees like a blanket againstthe cold and he smiled as he sifted it through his fingers. Despite the turmoilof the previous day, the fact that she’d almost been made a meal of by a bunchof Satanic groupies, her face was untroubled in sleep.

It had been seven hours since they’d run away from Angel’s Bend.Seven hours since Cam had rescued her from certain death at the hands ofZachael, his old foe, and Linda or Lucifer or whoever that demon had been. Now,as the day dawned the realisation hit him. He may have saved her in the shortterm but the true journey had only begun. Between them, and with the help ofTy, they had to find the demon that had laid Lucifer’s Mark upon Lacey and slayhim. Well, Lacey must slay him. Itwas the only way the mark could be removed and the curse obliterated. Putting apalm to her head, he stroked the softness of her hair over the crown of herhead. God knows how she was going to react when he informed her of that. Herfear at the branding ceremony had almost killed her.

Lacey stirred from her sleep and rubbed a fist across her eyes. Rollingto her back, she looked up. The sun was shining on Cam’s golden hair like ahalo - just as it had on the first day she’d seen him. His blue eyes lookeddown on her in a way no boy had ever looked at her before. How could it bepossible that such a glorious creature could fall in love with someone likeher? She was so … soordinary.

“Good morning.”

Cam leant down and placed his lips to hers. Prisms of coloured lightshot into the air between them and he pulled back a little.

“You really have to learn how to control that,” Lacey giggled athim. “It’s very distracting to bekissing you with those sparks flying everywhere.”

“Sorry.” Cam lookedanything but repentant. He lookedlike a boy who was interested in way more than kissing.

“I don’t think you are. I think you like the fact that we have‘sparks flying between us’.”

Cam leant in again. “Close your eyes then. You won’t be able to see them with your eyesclosed. If you can’t see them, you can’t get distracted.”

Dutifully, Lacey closed her eyes and Cam kissed her. His lips were warm and soft, pressingon hers. His hand crept slowly tocup the side of her face, warming it against the morning chill.

“I can still feel them you know,” Lacey mumbled against hislips.

“What?”

“The sparks. They tickle.”

“Shhh.”

“But they do.”

Cam moved his lips again, applying more pressure. His hand wove its way through Lacey’shair, holding her firm as he deepened the kiss.

She sighed. This was soperfect. If only it didn’t have toend.

After a minute or two Lacey, pulled away and sat up. The sun had reached the sky fully now,having made its way over the hill. It was shining down on Angel’s Bend like it did every other day. It was just like every other day, Laceythought, except her life was now so different. She had her own personal angel and her friend was dating aslayer. She’d discovered her mother had made a pact with the devil and herfather had been too weak to stop it. Her life couldn’t be more different.

“So, what’s the plan?”

She looked over at Cam who had been studying the sunrise too. Asmall crinkle of thought appeared between his eyebrows and his eyes narrowed alittle. His face was a study in seriousness, which was understandable, shesupposed.

Cam’s fingers moved from her knee and dug into the pocket of hishoodie. He drew out a small squareof fabric and handed it to her.

“First things, first. Happy 18th Birthday.” Hekissed her cheek.

Lacey looked at the parcel in her hand. Geez, with all that had happened she’d completely forgot itwas her birthday. How the hell hadCam found time to go shopping?

“What’s this?”

Okay so that had sounded a bit lame.

“A present.”

Equally lame.

“Ha ha.”

“Open it.”

For some reason, Lacey’s fingers trembled as she unwrapped thegift. She didn’t know why. Itwasn’t as if she was in any doubt that Cam’s present would be exactly what shewanted, even if she didn’t know she did. He had that knack of seeing into her soul and interpreting her thoughts. He should be good a buying gifts. She looked down into the scrap offabric.

There, nestled between the folds was a pair of the most gorgeousteardrop shaped earrings she had ever seen. Made from the clearest crystal, they were the smallest yetmost perfect things she had ever been given. Lacey was overwhelmed. She thought she might cry.

“Oh Cam, where did you get them? They’re beautiful.” Picking one up she examined it, watchingas the light caught in its facets and winked.

“You like them?”

“I love them but where did they come from?” James from the jewellersdidn’t carry any stock that vaguely resembled this. His window display consisted of replicas of Princess Diana’sengagement ring from 1980 and gaudy cubic zirconia necklaces.

“I had them made for you. While you were sleeping one night, I crept into your room and collectedsome of your tears. The Ellerwomancast her magic over them, freezing them into crystals. Then I took them to aman I helped many years ago and he set them as earrings.”

They were so delicate. Lacey still couldn’t believe it. “That must have cost you a fortune. I don’t deserve it, really I don’t.”

Cam smiled and lifted one of the earrings to slip it through thenaked holes at Lacey’s lobes. Hesat back and admired them.

“It cost me nothing. Icalled in a favour, that’s all. Iwanted to show you how much I cared. And you do deserve it, Lace. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Lacey smiled. It wasunbelievable that Cam would do all this for her, not because he was herprotector but because he truly cared. No one had ever cared that much before.

“Thank you.”

“Now, grab your back pack, we have to get moving before the day getsany further advanced. We’ve a lotto do if we want to find the demon.”

“Where are we going?”

Cam pointed down to the thickest part of the valley. “The Ellerwoman is waiting for us. We can stay at her cottage for as longas we need.”

“But you said she doesn’t like people.”

“I know, but I’m not people. Anyway, she’s leaving after wearrive. Every year she goes on aquest up the mountain gathering rare herbs and plants for her spells. Some of the flowers she uses only bloomat this time of year, so she has to go now. Often it takes her weeks to find what she needs and returnhome.”

“By which time you’re hoping we’ll have done what we need to?”

As in the demon would be dead.

Cam took Lacey’s hand and led her down the path that lead towardsthe forest. “I hope so. This has gone on long enough. You needyour life back.”

*****

The Ellerwoman, Indriel, was not at all what Lacey hadexpected. She’d thought the womanwho greeted them would be stooped and wrinkled like a witch from fairytalesshe’d read as a child. They hadtrudged their way through the forest for the best part of an hour after all andthe clearing they’d come too looked remarkably like a picture from a story ofHansel and Gretel. Yet, here wasthis ethereal faery creature, standing in the doorway of the little stonehouse.

Indriel was taller than Cam and thin, very thin. She had wispy black hair decorated withwildflowers that hung down past her waist and shone in the early morning sun.As she walked out to greet them, it rippled like a gauze curtain drifting onthe breeze.

“Chamuel.”

Indriel held out her hand, taking Cam’s in her long thin one. Lacey noticed the chunky silver signetring on her middle finger, carved with symbols and the extreme length of herthumb nail, a contrast to the shortness of the rest.

“And Lacey?”

“Yes. Thank you forletting us use your cottage. It’svery kind.”

“I am never kind. I dothis because your aunt has shown me great compassion over the years. I merely pay her back.”

Lacey still couldn’t believe that Aunt Beth was actually friendswith a real life faery but given that Cam was an angel and Abbie’s mother,Linda, had turned out to be Lucifer, nothing seemed impossible anymore. MaybeMichael Jackson and Kurt Cobain weren’t really dead?

“Well, thank you anyway.”

Indriel didn’t smilebut turned back to the house indicating that that they should follow. Her dress, of the sheerest greenfabric, wafted over her body as she walked then settled around her feet likewaves on a beach as she shut the door and faced them. Lacey had never seen a face so devoid of emotion. It was extremely hard to fathom.

“I will be gone for some weeks. Do not feel that you have to rushoff. You may stay until the dangerhas passed.”

She reached to a hook on the wall and took down a floor length cape,the colour of the forest, wrapping it around her body and fastening it at herneck. Then she hooked a wicker basket that had been sitting on the table overher arm, and with a nod to Cam was gone.

Lacey stood looking at the door for a moment.

“Well, she’s not the chirpiest person I’ve ever met.”

“No. She leads astrange life. But in her own way,she’s good. She just has nofeelings. As she said, she isrepaying a kindness by your aunt, she’s not doing it to feel good.”

“So she never feels a thing? Joy, sadness? Nothing?”

“She has a hollow heart. Sort of discounts the ability to feelthings.”

“I used to know people who’d have given anything not to feel things.Me included.”

Lacey began to walk around the tiny cottage. It was sparsely furnished, with simplewooden furniture that looked like it had been hand made from pieces of woodfound on a forest floor. A largefireplace stood on one wall and in it a small fire had been set under a cookingpot.

“Please tell me this isn’t how we’re eating for the next few weeks.”Lacey’s nose crinkled at the thought.

Cam pointed in the other direction where a wood burning stove wasalready alight, giving a chuckle at the look of horror on Lacey’s face. “Indriel’s not quite thatprimitive. Hundreds of years agoshe cooked over the fire but she’s moved with the times. We have heat, hot water and an oven.The fire in the grate is only lit when she needs it for a spell or just as acomfort.”

Lacey breathed an inward sigh. She may have grown up on a remote farm but she’d never been a fan ofcamping.

“So there’s no internet then? Or electricity?” she joked.

Cam merely rolled his eyes.

“Sorry. You’ll have to make do with my company and a few candles inthe night or the gas lamp.”

Lacey considered the idea for a minute and decided it might benice. Her, Cam and the romance ofcandlelight. Alone. No adults. This could be a dream come true.

“Don’t let your mind wander too much,” he admonished gently. “We’re not here for a honeymoon.”

Pity.

In another corner of the room Lacey spotted a small wooden bed. It was longer than standard,understandable if it had been made for its owner, but much narrower than herown queen sized bed at home. Nowthat could pose a problem. Unless they intended on sleeping cuddled up.

“You’re doing it again, Lacey.”

Lacey reddened. “Well,stop jumping around in my head. Ican’t help what goes on in there. Anyway, I was simply being practical. You have to admit that bed won’t be bigenough for both of us.”

“I wasn’t intending on sharing it with you.”

“What! Why?”

“I mean, I was going to let you have it. I can survive on little or no sleep. And I can’t keep watch if I’m layingthere with you. I’ll sleep in the rocking chair.”

Lacey stepped towards him. Her eyes were filled with mischief.“Sounds like you’re a little bit scared of being alone with me, Mr. ToughAngel.”

“Not in the least.”

She stepped closer and wound her arms around his neck. Her chestpressed against him and she could feel his angelic heart beginning to beatfaster. “But the thought of being in that bed with me frightens you? Am Iright?”

“The thought of losing control and something bad happening becauseof it frightens me. We can’tforget why I’m here.”

Lacey moved her lips within kissing distance of Cam’s. She could feel the electricitybeginning to fly. “I have no intention of forgetting why we’re here but for themoment can we just act like two hormonal teenagers and make out for a while?This may be the only opportunity we get to be alone for a very long time.”

Cam sighed. “I suppose so.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Joke, Lacey,” he grinned, and drew her closer.

My List Obsession

2012-01-06T09:50:00.000+08:00

Before I published with Amazon, lists really meant very little in my life - unless it was a list of tasks to get finished (I like to make those at work) or a shopping list ( I tend to go to the shop with a mental list and then come home without the items I went to buy in the first place.) Now, however, I find I am consumed by lists. I know I shouldn't be, I know that my writing, and people's enjoyment of it, is not validated by a position on a list but rather by their lovely interactions with me. Still, I find myself wanting to be higher on the list every day.

It all began with Perhaps... Perhaps. About this time last year, some crazy people bought it on Amazon and then it began to get recommended. Within days of that, it started to shoot up the Bestseller list. I don't know how that happened but I do know that I was on holiday in Italy at the time and received an extremely large data bill because I took to checking my place on the list almost by the hour. The book reached the lofty heights of #245 but not content with this, I began checking the stats of a fellow author who had a book out at the same time. Selfishly, I prayed that she didn't get higher than I had which is rather tragic really as her book was very good (I'd read it.)

It didn't stop there either. The knock on effect happened with my other stories and I found that I was checking them too, not to mention my blog stats, my Facebook Page insights and my Twitter followers. I even got so crazy as to make a resolution to reach 1000 followers by a certain date. I nearly got there. I also nearly got divorced. Big G threatened to leave me to my followers because I talked to them too much and not to him. You get the picture.

With the house building and moving stress, things seemed to settle down and then one day a couple of months ago Big G said to me "You haven't told me what place you are on the list for a few days. Have the books stopped selling?"

Bad move.

Innocently, I checked my Amazon.co.uk page only to find that The Taming of the Bastard had taken off and I'd missed the whole thing! (It reached #215 at its peak - I'm very proud of that). The obsession has begun all over again! I found I was on a few lists over a Goodreads. One part of me is trying not to obsess over them - no one will ever read them, I say - and the other part is telling me to get everyone to vote for me as a validation that I'm not the loser kid anymore (Hang on, I don't think I was, was I?) So maybe I'm just wanting to get to the top of those lists because it means more exposure? Or maybe I just want to win and beat that freakin' Twilight book? One thing is for sure... if I applied as much energy to looking after myself as I do to looking at the damn lists I wouldn't be on yet another diet!

Who knows :)

If you want to be a part of my list obsession you're more than welcome to add yourself!

xoxo

10 Books I Loved This Year.

2011-12-27T13:40:00.001+08:00

When I'm not writing, I love reading and since I've had my kindle, I think my book consumption has tripled. This year, I've read some really great indie books - not to mention a few traditionally published ones. Some were recommended and others I found while browsing. Why not check them out? You might enjoy them too. Clicking on the cover will take you to the book.

I actually watched the movie of Water for Elephants before I read the book and I was glad I did. I enjoyed the movie but they watered it down so much - excuse the pun - that it was like a different story. Still, I liked it but I totally adored the book. There's so much in it - the relationships are far deeper than those of the movie.

When I read this it was titled American Girl. It's an erotic - but not too erotic - romance of sorts. It follows the internet friendship and romance of Justine and Molly. I really enjoyed the original version so the reworked one should be great!

This book was sent to me by the author to review - something I hate doing with a passion as I feel obligated to say something nice. No need here. It's the poignant story of a young girl who finds herself pregnant and the subsequent six weeks of her life trying to decide what she should do. Be warned, it doesn't have an 'ending' as such - pretty sneaky if you ask me.

One word for this one.... Hilarious! The story centres around Gwendolyn the Assistant Wedding Planner who finds herself posing as her boss. She of course falls in love with one of the clients and the results are so funny! I loved it.

I totally love Sophie Kinsella's books and have a secret hankering to be her! This book was so funny in parts, I actually laughed out loud. I did. Ending is predictable but satisfying.

A girl who has a job as a singing gorilla-gram. A hero who's wife died and cant commit. A sleaze bag who turns out to have a nice side and a crazy author. As usual, Jill Mansell fed my fetish for hilarity, wacky characters and complex plots. God, if only I had that talent!

I read it when it was still .99cents and had a far different cover. I can't say I adored it but I can see why so many did so I thought I'd include it. Must say I like that new cover though.

If you're a fan of YA/PNR you will probably love it. It's an easy read and an interesting story.

Heather Wardell is fast becoming one of my favourite indie chick lit authors. This book is a crazy reality show where MC is cast onto a Survivor style desert island with all of her exes. It's totally crazy and a fun read - especially if you watch a lot of those stupid programs like I do. Maybe I should write a Real Housewives version?

My first read of Beth Orsoff. She restored my faith that cheap kindle reads can be good - after I'd downloaded an amazing 10 shit books in a row and had to delete them.

This book is hysterical! Julie looks for love everywhere and has some hideously disastrous dates.

This is one of the best books I've ever read I think - certainly in the last year or two anyway. The story evolves over a few days and follows Leanne after she discovers her partner Andy in bed with another woman. It's fairly brutal, very sad and beautifully written. A definite favourite.

Angel's Bend Chapter 4

2011-12-21T09:21:00.000+08:00

Chapter Four

The idea of starting anew school at the age of seventeen wasn’t something Lacey relished but here shewas, on the first day of term, standing at the steps of Angel’s Bend High. If she thought about it in real terms,it was only another nine months of her life, then it would be over. She supposed she could handlethat. Hell, it couldn’t be anyworse than what she’d had to deal with in the past year.

Taking a deep breath,she headed towards the tall glass front doors that announced thereception. All she had to do wassign in, fill in a few more forms, get her timetable and find out where thehell she was meant to be. Not tomention find some people who didn’t look at her like she had two heads. Easy. She could do it with her eyes shut. Not.

“Hey, you must beLacey.” A slight, auburn hairedgirl tapped her on the shoulder, making Lacey start. Her long ponytail swung around her face like a sheath as shemoved and she brushed it aside with a swish of her hand. She gave Lacey a tentative smile.

“Um. Yeah. And you are?” She hadn’t meant that tosound abrupt but sometimes words seemed to fly out of her mouth of their ownaccord.

“Oh. Sorry. I’m Abbie. Abbie Mason. MyMum is a friend of your Aunt Beth. She told me you were starting today and I should look out for you ‘causeyou didn’t know anyone. I figured it must be you when I saw you at the gate.You looked new.”

Lacey returned thesmile. “You mean I looked like theidiot who tried to walk ‘in’ through the ‘exit’ gate?” Ploughing hip first into the gate andalmost flying headlong over it as a result hadn’t been a good way to start themorning but how was she meant to know which way it swung if the stupid gate hadno signs?

“Ah, no. ‘Cause you looked a bit lost. Plus, I’ve never seen you before. Angel’sBend’s a small place.”

That figured.

“Right. So, where’s Reception?I have to check in.”

“Come on, it’s thisway,” Abbie said, leading her though the crush of students. She pointed to another glass door. “Through there.”

“Cool. And thanks,Abbie. Again.”

Abbie turned to go.“Pleasure. Hey, I have to get to Chemistry now but if you’re looking forsomeone to eat lunch with I usually sit on the steps that lead down to theoval. There’s a big tree there.”

“That’d be nice. I’llsee you then.”

“Good luck.”

Lacey took a breath andheaded into Reception. “Thanks. Let’s hope I don’t need it.”

*****

Despite the fact thatLacey was in a new environment and everything should have been exciting andshiny, the morning dragged. Shewas late for every one of her classes, causing disapproving looks from some ofher new teachers and the kids didn’t seem much better either. They stared at her as if she were analien. After arriving late for fourthperiod, and discovering that the map she’d been so blithely following thatmorning had been printed upside down and she hadn’t had the sense to see it,she was in no mood for any more crap.

With another apology tothe teacher and a huff, she took her place at the front of the English class,sitting down next to a boy who seemed more intent on making music with his penon the lip of the desk than making introductions. His face was hidden by a swathe of dark, straight, productstyled hair and though his eyes stayed resolutely focussed on the whiteboard atthe front of the room she could tell he was watching her from the corner of hiseye.

As the teacher walkeddown the aisle between the desks, handing out copies of the text, the boy ceasedhis rhythmical tapping. His eyesstill trained to the distance, he leant towards her, sending a rush of air inher direction. He smelled of incense, heady and sweet, like cinnamon. Itreminded her of her mother.

“So you’re Lacey.”

“What of it?”

He may have been cute-ishbut she had no time for cute. She had exams to blitz, university entrance toconcentrate on.

The boy turned. Lacey noted the friendliness of hisdark eyes.

“Nothing. Just sayin’. I’mZac, by the way. Zac Egan.” Heopened the book they were to share and flipped to the correct page. Head down, he began to read.

As his finger paused toturn the page, Lacey put her hand over the book. Her voice was low. “How did you know my name? I’ve only been here two hours.

Zac’s head was stillbent to the book. “Everyone knows your name, Lacey. We knew you were coming. We’ve been waiting.”

What the? Had there been an ad in the Angel’sBend Times or something? And who was ‘they’?

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your aunt - Beth -she’s been telling the world that her beautiful niece was on the way forweeks. I know so much about you, Icould write a book.” He lifted his head and looked at her. The smirk broadenedinto a full-blown smile that was mesmerising. It travelled up his face,exposing a dimple in his left cheek and lighting up his eyes.

Lacey reddened. Aunt Beth. She should have known. “What else did she say?”

“Nothing. Just that you’regifted at art and stuff. Hey, listen… a group of us are having lunch down onthe hill by the oval if you want to come.”

Lacey bit her lip. She was meant to be having lunch with thatgirl, Abbie. “Well, um…”

“It’s okay. Abbie will be there, too. She’s always around somewhere. You won’thave to ditch her or anything.”

Lacey froze. Was he reading her thoughts orsomething?

Zac chuckled. “Ioverheard her talking to you on my way past Reception this morning. She’s a cool chick. Bit quiet, but cool.”

He’d heard themtalking. He wasn’t some weird telepathicor something. Thank freaking Godfor that. Not that she believed in any of that rubbish. Everyone knew that the paranormal wasonly something you watched on T.V.

“Okay. Lunch. Cool.”

Now, all she had to dowas figure out how to find the oval in an hour’s time. She’d tossed thatuseless map in the bin.

>Chapter Four

“Um. Yeah. And you are?” She hadn’t meant that tosound abrupt but sometimes words seemed to fly out of her mouth of their ownaccord.

“Ah, no. ‘Cause you looked a bit lost. Plus, I’ve never seen you before. Angel’sBend’s a small place.”

That figured.

“Right. So, where’s Reception?I have to check in.”

“Come on, it’s thisway,” Abbie said, leading her though the crush of students. She pointed to another glass door. “Through there.”

“Cool. And thanks,Abbie. Again.”

“That’d be nice. I’llsee you then.”

“Good luck.”

Lacey took a breath andheaded into Reception. “Thanks. Let’s hope I don’t need it.”

*****

“So you’re Lacey.”

“What of it?”

He may have been cute-ishbut she had no time for cute. She had exams to blitz, university entrance toconcentrate on.

The boy turned. Lacey noted the friendliness of hisdark eyes.

“Nothing. Just sayin’. I’mZac, by the way. Zac Egan.” Heopened the book they were to share and flipped to the correct page. Head down, he began to read.

As his finger paused toturn the page, Lacey put her hand over the book. Her voice was low. “How did you know my name? I’ve only been here two hours.

Zac’s head was stillbent to the book. “Everyone knows your name, Lacey. We knew you were coming. We’ve been waiting.”

What the? Had there been an ad in the Angel’sBend Times or something? And who was ‘they’?

“I beg your pardon?”

Lacey reddened. Aunt Beth. She should have known. “What else did she say?”

“Nothing. Just that you’regifted at art and stuff. Hey, listen… a group of us are having lunch down onthe hill by the oval if you want to come.”

Lacey bit her lip. She was meant to be having lunch with thatgirl, Abbie. “Well, um…”

“It’s okay. Abbie will be there, too. She’s always around somewhere. You won’thave to ditch her or anything.”

Lacey froze. Was he reading her thoughts orsomething?

Zac chuckled. “Ioverheard her talking to you on my way past Reception this morning. She’s a cool chick. Bit quiet, but cool.”

“Okay. Lunch. Cool.”

Now, all she had to dowas figure out how to find the oval in an hour’s time. She’d tossed thatuseless map in the bin.

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Angel's Bend Chapter 3

2011-12-18T09:18:00.000+08:00

Chapter Three

After lunch, Lacey sat at her laptop in theback room of Aunt Beth’s shop. Full of enthusiasm for her idea, she was keen to upload the photos she’dtaken. Aunt Beth was out the frontre-shelving books. She hated itwhen people left them lying around after browsing.

“Aunt Beth?” Lacey called.

“Hmm?”

“I saw the strangest thing while I was atthe maze today. It looked really cool. Come and see.”

Aunt Beth put down the book in her hand andcame to sit by Lacey. “What wasit?”

The photos uploaded, Lacey began scrollingthought them to find the shot she needed. “This guy. He was sitting likea bird on the statue, right on Saint Michael’s shoulder, as if he was talkingto him. Do you know him?” Angel’sBend was a small town. Everyoneknew everyone.

“It was probably Cam, the boy they hired todo the maintenance. He’s always climbing around on that statue. Gave me quite a surprise the first timeI saw him at it. No fear at all.”

Lacey nodded. “What’s he like?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never spoken to himapart from a hello in the street. He’s only been in town a few months. Tends to keep to himself. Why?” Beth knew exactly why Lacey had a sudden interest inCam. That white blonde halo ofhair would be enough to attract any girl her age. And the skin - like alabaster- he looked as if he’d dropped from Heaven.

“He looked interesting. That’s all. I’d like to meet him. Take some more shots, you know, if he’d let me. He’d be a cool model.”

“You sure that’s all? ‘Cause if it’s a friend you’re afterLace, I don’t know that he’s the type of boy you should develop a relationshipwith. He’s a transient. Besides,you’re here to work, not go cavorting around town with the locals.”

“Geez. It’s not like I’m going to marry him or anything. I just wanted to say hi and ask him ifI could take a few pics.” Lacey’sface coloured.

Finally, the shots she was looking for cameup on screen. She moved the cursorover the thumbnails and clicked to enlarge. “Here it is. Look. It gave me an idea for my final exhibition. I’m going to do a study of angels.”

She gazed at the screen. Saint Michael’s torso and head could beseen clearly but the boy was nowhere in the frame. “I don’t understand. I took a shot of him from there. It looked so cool.”

She scrolled through the next fewpictures. They showed the statuebut the boy was absent in them.

“He was there. Really. Hewas.” Lacey’s eyes flicked to Aunt Beth, then back to the screen.

Aunt Beth got up. Now wasn’t the time to be delving into the mysteries ofphotography. She had work todo. “Maybe there’s something wrongwith your camera?”

She went back into the shop.

Lacey looked at the screen again. There was nothing wrong with hercamera. That boy had, well,disappeared. Closing the lid, she stood and stretched. She couldn’t think about it now. She would go and help Aunt Bethinstead. There was a whole new boxof stock to be sorted and a heap of coffee cups to be washed.

*****

At five o’clock, the last customer gone,Aunt Beth rose from her place behind the counter and went to the door, flippingthe closed sign over and pulling the bolt. Tired, she rubbed her fingers over her temples for a minuteor two. Then she bent to the coffee table, picking up three used cups.

“Is it always this busy in here?” Laceyasked, as she helped to tidy the last few things away. “I never knew so many people lived intown.”

“Since I put the wifi and coffee in, lots ofkids have started to hang out here. It’s good for business and it keeps them out of trouble but they make somuch mess.” The kids loved to flick through her ‘loan’ books while theydrank. They knew where she keptthem and she was happy to see them used, if only they’d learn how to put themaway.

“Do they ever buy anything?” Itseemed pointless to have a bookshop if nothing got sold. Aunt Beth may as well have a coffeeshop.

“Vampire books. They devour them as fast as I can stock them but given thecurrent trend I suppose that’s par for the course. One group is so into it, they’ve started a book club. They meet here monthly on Thursdays andthey only read vampire books. It takes all my energy to hunt down new ones forthem, they read so fast.”

“I’d have thought that whole craze would beover by now.”

Aunt Beth smiled. “It’s not. Andits spread to other areas of the supernatural and occult too. Stock I’ve had for years on Wicca andthe like has been flying off the shelves these past few months.”

“That reminds me. Do you still do that stuff? You know, tarot and that?”

A cautious frown spread over Aunt Beth’sface. “Yes. Why?”

“I found this on the road.” Lacey pulled thecrumpled card from her pocket and gave it to her aunt. “I thought you might be able to tell meabout the picture. It’s sopretty.”

Beth turned the card in her hand. “It was on the road?”

“Yeah. I was going to chuck it out but there’s so much detail in it. I thoughtI might be able to pilfer a bit and rework it as borders for my own pieces.”

“Hmm.” Aunt Beth studied the card closer. “This is the High Priestess card.”

“What does it mean?”

“Can you remember which way it was facingwhen you picked it up? Right sideor inverted, I mean, upside down?”

“Upside down. Is that important?”

“It is. If a card’s inverted it has a whole different meaning. I know you don’t believe ‘that crap’ asyou put it, but would you like me to do a reading for you? I have my cards in the drawer under thecounter.”

Lacey sat down in one of the armchairs. “Sure. Why not?” Whatharm could it do?

Returning with her deck, wrapped in a silkenscarf, Aunt Beth went through the motions of shuffling and cutting untilfinally the cards were laid out on the coffee table between them. She’d asked Lacey to focus on somethingshe’d like to know about to help with the reading. Lacey, skeptical of course, had wanted to find out what was goingto happen in the near future. Would she make friends? Would she pass her exams?

The first cards Aunt Beth turned over wereas she expected. There’d beensadness and now a new beginning. Thingswere changing and there were new people in her life, new friends too. Lacey could have done the readingherself, it was such a crock. Then Aunt Beth turned another card. The Lovers. Inverted. Shewas quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Am I going to fall in love or something?”Lacey all but giggled at the naked lovers entwined across the card.

Aunt Beth looked up. “The lovers don’t necessarily indicatelove but they do speak of relationships. And in this instance, they’re telling us that you’re going to have tochoose. A difficult choice.”

“What? Choose between two boyfriends? Cool.”

“I’m not seeing two boyfriends. As I said, this card is not alwaysabout love.”

“So, what are you seeing?”

“A difficult choice where no one can win. Itwill involve the heart.”

Lacey pressed her lips together. Aunt Beth was being all spacey andweird. This was so funny. She couldn’t laugh, though. It wouldhurt her feelings. A hard choicethat involved the heart. Geez. What next? A sparkly vampire boyfriend?

Aunt Beth’s fingers flipped the next card inthe array. The Tower.

“There’s danger all around, Lacey. You must take care. This card indicatesa fight, a struggle or even…”

“What?”

“Sudden death. Suppressing your feelings oremotions can lead to disaster but if you’re flexible and ready to believe, thedanger can be averted.”

Oh please. Now she was joking, wasn’t she?Trying to ignore the feeling of foreboding that had crept into the room, Laceywatched as her aunt turned the final card.

It couldn’t be. Not the High Priestessagain. And she was inverted.

On the ceiling above them, the lightsflickered as if acknowledging what lay on the table. A whisper of breeze sangdown the chimney, reigniting the remnants of the fire in the grate and sendinga chill skittering down Lacey’s spine. Hairs stood to attention on the back of her neck. There were heaps ofcards in that deck. How the hellcould it be possible for the same one to appear twice in a week? It was unbelievable. It had to bea trick.

“How did you do that?”

Aunt Beth’s face had drained of colour.“What?”

“The card. How did you make it come out ofthe deck?” It was freaky, that wasfor sure but she wasn’t about to be fooled.

“I didn’t. You picked the cards. Remember?”

Aunt Beth was right. Maybe it wasn’t a trick.

“What does it mean?”

Aunt Beth studied the card. Her fingers trembled as she skimmed thesurface. Her voice, low andserious infused every corner of the room and Lacey realised that this was not ajoke. Aunt Beth was entirelyserious.

“There is a secret, long buried. You will need to expose the secret inorder to be happy.”

But Lacey didn’t have any secrets anymore. Dad knew all about thethings she’d done. He’d bailed her out of the local Police Station when she’dbeen caught driving drunk and without a license. He’d found the stash of cokeshe’d taken to snorting to dull the pain after Mum’s death. He’d picked her upunconscious from parties. Aunt Beth knew it all, too. Lacey had nothing to hide.

“The secret will cause you pain, more painthan you’ve ever felt,” Aunt Beth continued.

“But I don’t have any secrets. You and Dad know them all. And I’m certainly not going to goaround town sharing them with everyone. What good would that do?”

Aunt Beth chewed on the side of her lip,thoughtful. “The secret is notyour own.” “What the hell does that mean?”

Aunt Beth looked back at the card and thento Lacey, her face had closed. She knew something else but she wasn’t telling.

“Aunt Beth?”

“Nothing. It’s not important. They’re onlycards.” Quickly, Aunt Beth scooped up the cards and wrapped them out of sight.“I wouldn’t give much credence to what they say.”

“You do.”

Aunt Beth stood and walked to the counter, slidingthe deck of cards back into the bottom drawer. Lacey was sure she was beinggiven the brush off. “Yes, butthat’s me. You’ve got far betterthings to worry about, like passing your exams. Now let’s get home. Jezebel will be bellowing the housedown for her dinner if we don’t make a move.”

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WANT TO READ MORE?....

Have your say...

2011-12-17T08:49:00.001+08:00

choice 1

choice 2

choice 3

choice 4

choice 5

I've been trying to choose a cover for Lucifer's Mark, the follow up book to Angel's Bend. There are so many choices I've got no idea. Which do you like?

Reasons for Distraction

2011-12-15T08:58:00.001+08:00

At the moment, I'm feeling like someone put a Bamix blender inside my ear and turned it on. I can't seem to keep a thought that lasts more than 11000 words. Yes, I realise that's a fairly long thought for some - there's no need to get sarcastic -but if you want to make it into a story it falls well short. Unless it's a novella of course.

I think the main problem lies in the fact that I've been deviating from the plan. Instead of sticking to nice safe chick lit books and movies, I've been delving into deeper romances and, I've been listening to sad love songs instead of Lily Allen and Pink AND - naughty me - I've been back on the paranormal trail again becoming addicted to a whole swathe of new trashy TV shows like The Secret Circle And Teen Wolf. This is all well and good, its all research of the romantic kind but it's not helping me finish any of the projects I've already started!

And that's a big fat grrr. I don't like things unfinished.

To make the problem worse, a certain group of readers is harassing me. One group wants the sequel to The Taming of the Bastard out by Christmas - ah, let's get this straight, there's no chance of that. The other is saying they want the sequel to Angel's Bend. We're talking 100 000 words in total people - and I don't type that fast, especially when distracted by my new fetish as seen in these pics..... He's Tyler Hoechlin who plays Derek Hale in Teen Wolf. Now there's a reason to write Paranormal Romance! Of course, it would have to be a completely new story, with eyes and a smile like that, he won't fit into any of the others. Oh God, not another new draft.

It's Here!

2011-10-11T12:44:00.001+08:00

I'm a bit excited at the release of Angel's Bend today, people. Can you see my happy dance? Below are the linkies to the Smashwords and Amazon pages for you to purchase if you wish.

I hope you'll all support this book like you have the others. You're such wonderful readers, and this book is a departure from my usual sarcastic, chicklit bent. But if you're in the mood for another love story, pop by and grab a copy.

Kindle Version Smashwords Version

And because I'm in such a good mood today, I thought I'd share some tunes :))

Review Copies Giveaway

2011-10-05T11:52:00.002+08:00

Hello Lovely People,

Yes. I've been a slack bunny I know. I haven't posted anything for over a month but in my defense, I've been very busy - if you call watching the Rugby World Cup and sitting on the couch busy. I haven't been doing a great deal else apart from learning that consuming your bodyweight in chocolate and Baileys leads to rapid weight gain, so is probably not a good way to spend a weekend, even though it seemed like it at the time. :(

After writing the whole of Angel's Bend in three weeks, I think I may have been a little burnt out but I'm just about finished the rewrites and so am on the hunt for some reviewers to read and post on the usual sites - Goodreads, Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble etc.

If you would like a free copy of Angel's Bend to read and review, post a comment on the blog with your contact details and tell me why. The copy will be in PDF form.
The story is a Paranormal Romance - in in case you hadn't figured that out from the title - and probably relates most closely to Heart of Glass in style. So if you enjoyed that, you may like this too. (Oops, I sound like an Amazon ad there, dont I?) It features a teenage girl - Lacey - and an Angel, Cam. Lacey has been promised to Lucifer on her 18th birthday by way of a birthmark called Lucifer's Mark and Cam is there to save her from this fate. Of course, they fall in love but not before some rather creepy things happen.

I'm looking for honest reviews - not hideous though :) - to be posted when the book goes on sale in a few weeks. The exact date I'm not sure of yet. Please don't ask for a copy if you have no intention of reviewing though. It's not entirely fair and while I like to give copies to loyal readers, you can't expect everything for free.

Oh, and one other thing. If you absolutely hate it, I'm a great subscriber to the 'if you can't write something nice, write nothing at all' mantra. That said, you're more than welcome to email me directly and tell me why you disliked it - I'm always open to criticism that can make my work better.

This offer is good until 12th October - or possibly longer if the Wallabies beat South Africa this Saturday and I'm in a good mood. So send those comments in now!

Hugs and Kisses.

What Do You Think?

2011-08-24T12:58:00.000+08:00

This is the proposed cover and blurb for Angel's Bend. What do you guys think?

Two Lovers... A Difficult Choice... A Secret Long Buried

When Lacey Green arrives in Angel’s Bend, all she wants to do is work hard and finish high school. The past year hasn’t been great for Lacey, she’s failed her exams and driven her father to despair with her wild behaviour. A stint in Angel’s bend is her last hope at getting her life back on track.

But everything is not what it seems in Angel’s Bend. The town has been eagerly awaiting her arrival and not because Aunt Beth's been harping on about it for weeks.

Zac wants to make Lacey a member of his gang. Dark and charismatic, he has minions that emulate his every move and when he gazes at Lacey with those eyes of his, she feels a pull of attraction.

Cam, the town freak, appears to be stalking Lacey. He has a secret but is afraid to let Lacey in on it. Besides, Lacey doesn’t believe in the supernatural or the occult, so he's no idea how she’ll react. All he knows is he has to protect her from the danger that’s heading her way.

Then there’s Aunt Beth and Dad. Just what have they been keeping from Lacey? And what does it have to do with the birthmark on her neck; the one that Cam says is Lucifer’s Mark.

Before Lacey realises, she is thrust into a world of angels, demons and the occult. One of her new friends wants to deliver her to the devil and the other wants to save her. And if that weren't enough to deal with, she manages to fall in love. The only problem is, the boy in question doesn’t feel the same way.

Dear Sam Worthington...

2011-08-17T16:14:00.001+08:00

Dear Sam Worthington, honey,
In case you hadn't noticed, I have a teensy crush on you. It began way back when things went bad for you in Bootmen. I really wanted you to get Sophie Lee (or me) and not fight with your brother. It continued when you kissed Abbie Cornish in Somersault. You have no idea how many times I watched that and dreamt it was me. I cant believe they made you all blue in one part of Avatar and with no legs in the other. A travesty of super dooper proportions in my opinion. What a waste of your masculine appeal. Its all in the eyes, you see, and those burly bricklayers shoulders and that lovely strong chin. I love a strong chin on a man.
This morning I got up super early to pop over to Nannup and see you working - I know you're there, its been all over the news. I had my breakfast and got dressed, then I chickened out because I didnt think my boss would be too happy if I rocked up two hours late for work when I only work three hours on a Wednesday.
I really wanted to come because I have a favour to ask. I'd really love it if you'd play Ben in Heart of Glass when they make the movie. Unless you're fifty by then, of course. Ben is only in his late twenties so I'd have to choose someone younger. Not that Im saying you'll look any less hot when you're fifty, i just don't like it when they try to make people look younger to play a part. So, if you like I could bring you a copy of the book to read in your downtime. Im sure you'd love it. Or your girlfriend would.
Anyway, thats about all I have to say but just one more thing. I know there are a lot of those alternate types living in Nannup and you may not find the accommodation up to your standards. if this happens, I have two free bedrooms in my NEW house and I'll even give you an ensuite and cooked breakfast with REAL coffee. It would have to be nicer than the caravan park, surely.
Anyway let me know.

PS: If you see Bono, can you please not tell him I invited you to stay, I only asked him for a drink and he might get cross. :)

Chapter 2

2011-08-13T09:22:00.000+08:00

Chapter Two

It was amazing how comfortable the old four-poster bed hadbeen. When she woke up the nextmorning, the sun streaming through the window onto her doona, Lacey felt likeSleeping Beauty. It was as ifshe’d awoken from a nightmare and her life was about to start. Bounding out of bed and slipping herfeet into her calf length ugg boots, she reached onto the bedside table andgrabbed a hairband, pulling up her raven hair and twisting it into a knot onthe top of her head. On her waypast, she ducked into the bathroom she was to share with Aunt Beth and gave herface a refreshing splash.

“Sleep well?”

Aunt Beth was standing at the counter of the country kitchen, alarge canister of breakfast cereal in her hand.

Lacey came to the other side and picked up a carton of juice,pouring a glass for herself and her aunt. “Like a dream. That bed isamazing.”

Aunt Beth gave a hint of a smile. She wasn’t about to tell Lacey that it wasn’t so much thebed that was amazing as the poppet doll she’d filled with lavender, dandelionand rosemary and put under Lacey’s pillow. That and a loving invocation had ensured a sound sleep forher troubled niece.

“What are your plans for today, Lace?” Aunt Beth asked as they sat down to a breakfast of homemade muesli.

“Um, well. If you don’t need me to do anything for you, I thought Imight take a walk around town. Re-acquaintmyself. If I take my camera Imight even be inspired to get a few shots.”

“I don’t think you’ll see anyone in town that you know, Lace. Most of the kids you knew have gone to Universityin the city. A couple went toAgricultural College and one or two stayed on the farms with their parents.” Laceylooked at her Aunt. She didn’tneed any reminders that she was a year behind the eightball. It was going to be bad enough going toa new school on Monday.

“Why don’t you go down to the Willow Walk? If you take the cliff path around the river you’ll get to Angel’sMaze. It looks really pretty. The council’s cleaned it up and they’veeven employed a young man from out of town to do maintenance on the statue ofSt Michael the Archangel and the other statues in the park. Someone finallyrealised they could be a tourist attraction. ”

“That sounds like a plan,” Lacey replied.

*****

The gravel along the Willow Walk crunched under her feet. Long branches of the trees that gave it its name dragged onthe ground like strands of green mermaid’s hair swirling in the tide. Intriguedat their movement, Lacey took out her camera and snapped a few close ups,looking at the results in the viewing pane. She shook her head, annoyed with herself. You couldn’t get a true idea of the shotuntil it was enlarged, of course, but even she could see they were crap. Since her Mother’s death every thinghad turned to crap. That was whyshe’d failed her finals, not passed Year 12. Her life had been crap and masking it with a different formof crap hadn’t changed a thing. All it did was make her feel worse than she already did. When would her mojo return? It was as if she was lost in thedarkest wood, without a torch, and though she bashed at the bushes with hersword she couldn’t get out. Worsestill, no one came to rescue her when she called.

Putting her camera strap back over her shoulder, Lacey trudged offdown the path. It took a few minutes but as a breeze blew against her face, sherealised that she’d been so deep in thought that the scenery around her hadchanged without her even noticing. So much for taking in the sites. She wasstanding at the edge of Angel’s Bend Cliff, the waterfall below her and shehadn’t even seen it. Not that theSeraphim Falls were anything to rave about. The water, slower further up the river, peaked here andtwisted its way to a precipice where it fell a few metres in cascades of whitethat crashed onto the rock below onto to be reborn as a new river. Nothing spectacular. She watched as astick floated down on the current, it’s bobbing becoming more frantic as it gotcloser to the time when it would be thrust out into the mid air of the fallsand go crashing under at the bottom. She wondered what it would be like to drown. Not nice, she decided and set off again.

Up the road from the falls, Lacey crossed the Seraphim Bridge, stillfollowing the path that led her at last to the river park. It was just your average park - playground,picnic and barbecue areas, lots of shade trees but the thing that set it apartwas the gravestones dotted around the edge like a stone fence. Nobody knew thehistory of how or why they got there and nobody who lived in the town paid muchheed. A couple of kids were evenusing them in a game of stepping stones. Kneeling down near one, Lacey turned on her camera. Gravestones. An unlikely subject but could prove useful inspiration givenher immediate past. She took a fewshots at different angles and using different light settings, then sat down onthe grass to survey her efforts. Thatwasn’t bad. She rolled to herstomach and snapped ten or so more, reviewing as she went. These were the first shots she’d takenin months that were actually worth keeping.

Sitting up, Lacey put her camera aside and looked around thepark. At the bottom was Angel’sMaze, its centrepiece statue of the Saint Michael the Archangel poking proudlyfrom the middle. It was meant toentice people into the maze because you knew, when you reached it, that you hadreached the centre. The prize, soto speak, was the intricate carvings around the bottom of the statue, unable tobe seen from outside the maze. When Lacey was eight, she’d been here one daywith her parents. Dad had takenher in the maze after a rare argument with Mum. She’d refused point blank claiming claustrophobia of allthings. Funny, Lacey thought,Mum’d never been afraid of small spaces before that day. Funny too, that she’d forgotten about theevent until now.

Looking down at the maze, Lacey noticed something strange. A bird or something was sitting on thetop. She trained her lens towardsit and zoomed in. It wasn’t abird. It was a boy. Around her own age possibly. He was sitting at the top of thestatue, right on Michael’s shoulder, almost as if he were having some type ofconversation with him. Howodd.

Lacey stood and moved closer, snapping as she went. Suddenly she was full of inspirationfor her work. She saw the idea forher final exhibition clearly in her head. It would be a study of angels, centred around the statue and made from avariety of medium. She clickedagain. All she had to do was gointo the maze and get some shots from different angles. There were smaller angels there too, tofuel her imagination. It would bebrilliant.

Pleased, she raced down the hill to the maze entrance. The boy was still there and now, upclose, she could see the brilliant green of his eyes, framed by dark lashes, asthey stared at her. Putting her camera to her eye, she took one more shot insilhouette. It was perfect.

Some things I've always wanted to know...

2011-07-29T15:25:00.000+08:00

As they say on Australian Idol, these are in no particular order.
1. If the dog has just come in after being outside for two hours playing in a 17 acre wonderland, why does he persist in vomiting on the living room rug?
2. Why, if an item is stated as being one size fits all, does it not? I refer here particularly to hats. I love them but I have a very massive head. One size only fits pinheads.
3. When, if ever, will the Western Force win a Super 15 rugby title? I'm very impatient and I'm tired of waiting.
4. If we can send a man to the moon and communicate with people on the other side of the world in an instant, why cant we have chocolate that is low fat, good for you and tastes good?
5. Why do my tights always get a hole in them when I don't have a spare pair?
6. Why do dogs - Princess Poppy in particular - feel the need to roll in poo straight after a bath? Ot at all for that matter.
7. Is it necessary for people to do that *check in* thing on Facebook? Every time they go some place? Speaking of which how do writers ever get anything done if they spend all day on such sites, chatting to their writer *friends*? They must have some secret I don't know about which makes me very jealous.
8. Why do builders/tradesman say they are going to turn up at a certain time then don't turn up at all. Why do they get all narky if you call them on it?
9. Why do people feel the need to post reviews on Amazon that rip a book to shreds? Yes, we all have an opinion but we also have feelings. Are they jealous that said book is selling? Have they ever written a book? Does it make them feel important?
10. What happens to emails that never get there? If I go to cyberspace one day, will I find them? I'd love to get a few *lost* ones back.
11. Why do appliances always break down one day after the warranty has expired?
12. Is imitation really the sincerest form of flattery or simply a subtle way to send the imitatee bonkers?
13. Why do people keep clothes they haven't worn for 30 years and probably don't fit them anymore? Are they hoping to go to a lot of eighties nights or do they just like shoulder pads and choose life tshirts?
14. Nirvana were a brilliant band but did anyone, seriously, understand any of Kurt Cobain's lyrics?
15. Why is it cheaper to fly to Europe and Asia than it is to go to Melbourne? If they want us to take holidays in australia, something should really be done.
16. Why do people always ask me, after reading my stories, is my work autobiographical? Uh, hello, people. I've never tried speed or heroin or had sex in a cupboard and last time I looked, my husband wasn't a multimillionaire with abs of steel. How about we get with the program. Its fiction.

Angel's Bend

2011-07-19T10:11:00.001+08:00

Chapter One
Taking the step fromthe safety of the bus, Lacey Green put her backpack down on the footpath and waitedas the bus driver located her suitcase and pulled it from the hold, plonking itat her feet. “That it?” he asked, his face a gnarled question.
“Yep. Thanks.” Lacey looked down at that suitcase. What the hell was she meant to do now? Carry it, she supposed.
“Well, good luck then,girlie,” the bus driver said and, with a cheerful wave, he hoisted the bus doorclosed and hopped into his seat. The indicator flicked to life and the bussteered back onto the road.
After watching the busdrive away, Lacey stood for a minute. She gazed up and down the road, her eyes taking in every detail. It had been six years since she’d stayedwith her Aunt in Angel’s Bend, but the town looked the same. Flame trees in bloom decorated MainStreet, their tangerine spiked flowers reaching to the sky. May’s Beauty Shop, still pink with lavendertrim along the verandah, advertised an eyebrow wax and tint special. Down the length of empty street, thebridge crossing the Seraphim River stood strong and proud, its current edgingslowly towards an unknown destination. It was as if she’d walked into a timewarp, the place was just like it had been when she was a kid. And probably as just boring. At leastshe wouldn’t get lost on her way to Aunt Beth’s.
Hoisting her duffel bag over her shoulder and stretchingout her suitcase handle, Lacey stacked her handbag on the top and headed south,crossing at Jackson’s Hardware. PassingHeavenly Aroma Café she noticed it had only one patron. Jock’s Music shop looked dead as adoornail, too. Even thesupermarket was empty. Whathad she done? Had coming here beena big mistake? The quicker she gotto Aunt Beth’s the sooner she could ring Dad and tell him she was on her wayback. Art School was a dumbidea. She’d be just as happystaying on the farm with him.
Arms aching from pulling her luggage, Laceystopped across the road from the Angel’s Bend Bookshop. Standing as it always had, its blue andwhite painted façade hidden under the eyebrows of the verandah covered in lilaccoloured wisteria looked like it seemed a sudden cheerful haven in this worldof times gone by. A large sign filling the window indicated that, if nothingelse had happened in six years, Aunt Beth had at least moved with thetimes. Angel’s Bend Bookshop nowsold coffee to those who wished to sit and browse before they bought. And they had free wifi. Lacey smiled to herself. Facebook. Twitter. Skype. A glimmer of modernity to keep her sane.
Pausing at the kerb, Lacey watched a lone carspeed down the road in front of her, pulling to a halt in the empty space nearMay’s. Damn one horse town, she thought, noting her now muddied feet withdisgust and lifting it to shake the water away. From underneath, somethingcolourful appeared stuck to her sole. Intrigued, she let go of her suitcase topeel it off. It was a tarot cardwith a picture of a queen or something. An upside down queen all dressed in gilt and looking real sombre. Weird. Rubbing the card dry Lacey, pocketed it, determining to findout what it meant. Not that shebelieved in any of that tarot stuff. Load of crap really. Butshe knew someone who did, and she was waiting on the other side of the road inthat shop. Stepping out onto theroad, Lacey crossed and headed towards the bookshop that belonged to AuntBeth.
Pushing the timber door open, Lacey heard thetinkle of the bell above it announce her arrival. She stopped and breathed in the scene. For mid summer, itwas a chilly day and the corner of the Victorian building housed a fireplace,stacked with logs crackling in the grate. An amber glow spread over the room, laying its fingers over books inneatly ordered shelves, housing all manner of titles. - fiction, travel,gardening, dressmaking. Shewondered briefly if aunt Beth had any good books on Photography or Art. In the eight months since the accidentshe’d denied herself the pleasure of such books, felt better at herself imposedpunishment.
Dad had been concerned of course, at hererratic behaviour. He couldn’tfind a way to break through. Shehadn’t wanted him to. The move toAngel’s Bend had been his last hope that his daughter would return to him. Lacey knew that.
“It’s a fresh start, Lace,” he’d said as theysat at the dinner table just before Christmas. “No one but Aunt Beth knows what’s happened. No one needs to know, if you don’t wantto tell them. All they need toknow is that you’re coming to Angel’s Bend High to finish your schooling. Despite the fact that it’s a smalltown, its Art program has one of the best reputations in the South West. It’sthe perfect stepping stone if you want to get into Art school.” His face was serious. He looked as ifhe didn’t know his daughter any more. “You do still want to go to art school in the city?”
“Of course, I do Dad,” Lacey said. “I’m just not sure that I’m ready toface a whole new community of nosy people.”
“You don’t have to be friends with them,Lace. Just work hard, get goodgrades and make a new start. That’sall. Aunt Beth is so excited thatyou’re coming. She’s repaintingthe spare room for you as we speak.”
Oh God. Lacey could imagine the pink and purple colour scheme she’d probablyarrive to. The last time she’dseen Aunt Beth she’d been wearing some sort of rainbow swirled tie dyedcreation and her birthdays gifts often bordered on bizarre. But Lacey wasn’t achild anymore. She didn’t need tobe bribed to do the right thing with a fairy doona cover. “I don’t need a new room, Dad. I’m going to go. I was merely making a point that Idon’t want to.”
“Aunt Beth will take good care of you. And I’m only a phone call away.”
And maybe that was best - Dad being a phonecall away. Every time he looked ather Lacey saw the hurt. She knewhe blamed her.
“Lacey, baby, you’re here. Coming in from the back room, Aunt Bethput a stack of books down on the counter. Her hazel eyes fell to Lacey’s bags. “You silly child. Why didn’t you call out? I told you to ring when you got off thebus. Those bags must’ve been awfully heavy to lug down the street.”
Lacey gave a samll smile that disappeared intoher Aunt’s strong embrace. Pulling back she said, “Its okay, Aunt Beth. I only had to walk a few hundredmetres. I lost my Mum, not mylegs.”
Aunt Beth ignored the comment. “Right. Welllets get those bags into the back and you can sit here and tell me all aboutwhat’s been happening at home. How’s your Dad coping? Isthat wretched Lucille still trying to win his heart with baked dinners?”
Rolling Lacey’s suitcase behind her, she ledher out to the small office. Laceyfollowed, plonking her backpack in the corner next to the suitcase. She sat down at an old timber table,its surface covered in stories of years past. “He’s fine, I s’pose. He’s got more stock out in the back paddocks and he’s tryinghis hand at growing raspberries and blueberries.
“Your Dad? A fruit farmer? Never thought I’d see the day.”
“He wants to diversify and after the accident,I think he wanted a new start, a new interest. Berries are completely foreign to him but he’s lovingit. It takes his mind offthings.”
Like her. After Mum had died in the car accident on her way home from collectingthe mail one afternoon, Lacey had gone into a downward spiral. And being seventeen, her Dad hadno idea how to cope. He was deepenough in his own grief. A wayward daughter had almost tipped him over theedge.
“So Lucille’s gone? That woman was bad news with her big hair and heavingbosom.”
“Yep. I think she finally got the hint when shepopped over to find Mrs Butterworth sitting down with us, eating one of Dad’s stews. He never needed Lucille’s help, he wasjust too nice to tell her to nick off.”
Aunt Beth pushed a mug of green tea in front ofLacey. “You do still drink itdon’t you?” she asked indicating the steaming cup.
Lacey sipped. “Yep. ThoughI’m more into peppermint and the other herbal teas these days.”
“Well, after we settle you in we’ll make a listand pop down to the supermarket. You need to have the things you love.”
“I don’t want to put you out Aunt Beth.”
“Oh honey, you’re not putting me out believeme. This is your home for the nextyear and as such, I’ll be expecting you to pull your weight so a few packets oftea and some toiletries won’t really be putting me out.”
Well, thought Lacey. Guess that’s that. Lets just hope the bedroom wasn’t pink and purple.

We Have Tree Ducks (that's not Irish for three ducks)

2011-07-12T10:35:00.000+08:00

On our property, we have lots of trees, a few which have seen better days and were destined for the firewood pile until the other day.
Since we moved south, Big G has taken up pyromania-slash-woodchoppping as his third hobby (annoying me and watching rugby still being numbers one and two). Basically, he disappears into the fields in the early hours and sets fire to or chops down anything that isn't green or doesn't move, leaving patches of blackened grass and wood in his wake. He usually manages to control ten or so fires at a time - a clever task for any man, but then its not really multi-tasking if you're only repeating the same action x10 is i? He doesn't generally require my help either, wanting to pursue his new favourite pastime in solitary.

Last Sunday however, I received a strange phone call that went something along the lines of...
"Hello?"
"Can you come over and bring the fire rake and the camera?" he says.
"???" I looked out the window. Big G had lit a fire near one of the dead trees and it was getting out of control. Smoke was billowing across the valley, hence the need for the fire rake.
"Why do you need the camera?" I ask. Surely, he hasn't gone that mental that he wants to take pics of the house burning down. You can get medication for that.
"We have tree ducks," he replies.
Okay. So now I know he's lost it. Ducks do not sit in trees. They have webbed feet that are only good for sitting on grass and pond weed.
Worried that we may require a trip to Graylands (nut house) I wandered over with both the requested implements.
To cut a long story short, he wasn't crazy. There WERE ducks sitting in the tree, though how they managed to cling on with their little webbed feet beats me. Needless to say the tree isn't being chopped or burnt down now. Its a sanctuary for the tree ducks.
The pic below shows the tree but not the ducks... I went to find them this morning but they were gone. But they WERE real. Really they were. :)

What's Your Favourite?

2011-07-02T13:20:00.000+08:00

A new reader asked me yesterday which book she should start with out of the three I've published so far. My take was that it depends on what mood you're in as they're all so different. Anyone who's read a couple or even all of my stories would be aware that I while they're all love stories they dont stick to a genre. Still, I thought it might be fun to ask you. Surely all of you out there in reader land must have a favourite you could recommend.

So, which book is your favourite of those above - if you've read more than one - and why? Post a comment and you'll be in the running to win an e copy of any one you choose. Or just post for fun. I'd love to know and so would the reader!

News - Good and Sad

2011-06-17T10:27:00.000+08:00

Since moving to our lovely new home last month, I've had some time to ponder where I want my writing career to go. Well, a lot of time really. As I'm only doing relief work at the moment and not many in the community know me yet, I'm spending a lot more time than I'd like gazing out the window and worrying about the fate of the Western Force or trying not to eat chocolate. Yes, I could be writing. I know I have stories to finish but the urge just isn't there.

Anyway, after much soul searching I've decided that I want to be a truly Independent Author - especially after doing it all myself with The Taming of the Bastard. So, I've cut all ties with my lovely Publisher Tim from Night Publishing who released Perhaps... Perhaps, the book that sort of started it all and with Fontaine Press of WA, who currently hold the reins on Heart of Glass. By the way, If youre looking for some really good reads pop over to Night Publishing. Some of my favourite recent reads are stable mates of mine. (or were)

Obviously, the main reason for this decision is monetary. I'm starting to make a small living from writing now and want to be in charge of my own pricing and reaping as much of the rewards as I can for my work. I have found, too, organisation freak that I am, that I enjoy the process of cover design and giving out work to beta readers - I like that I dont have to take suggestions on board if I dont want but that my readers are people who really love my work and are keen to be a part of it. They see characters in a way I had never intended, which is good - It gives me scope for change. And they are ultimately the girls who buy my books. For this reason, I dont want an editor who may/may not be sympathetic to my work, even though he/she says they love chick lit - not that either of mine were anything like that - and I most certainly dont want to be told to make it funnier, sadder, gritter etc because it will 'fit the genre.' I write the way I do because each story demands it. Some are humorous, some are sad. I'm not going to change them.

So, from July 1st, I'm in at the deep end. No more hand holding. I am an independent author. Eeek!

Weddings Take 2

2011-06-15T12:17:00.002+08:00

Shortly before Big G and I first started going out together I was asked to be a bridesmaid for my, then, best friend. (She turned out to be a psycho but that's another story.) I was in my final year of Uni at the time, had no money to pay for the trappings but agreed anyway as she was my friend. Well, I thought she was.

Her first mistake was the dresses. Oh God. How many times have you heard a bride say 'I chose a style that you'll be able to wear again'? Even though she said it, that dress was most certainly not a style I would ever be seen dead in again. It was bad enough having to pay money to wear it on the day. Let me give you a description.

A pale grey, almost silver sack - a colour I look hideous in - with a dropped waist that began somewhere on the thigh and went to the lower calf (cocktail length apparently). It seems that this dress caused so much distress to my psyche that I can still remember the details nearly 30 years after the event. The dress was long sleeved with a high chinese collar similar to the blue one (right). It had an overlay of grey lace and was topped off with jaunty cocktail hat complete with netting and a single red rose for us to carry. My hair, long and blonde at the time was done in some hideous side french roll that poked out from the side of my head above my ear, a perfect resting spot for the hat. It made me look like an escapee from an episode of Star Trek or possibly a sad Princess Leia who had lost one of those hamburger buns from her ears. Add pale grey court shoes and the ensemble was complete. Even by 1980's standards of garishness this outfit was nothing but an embarrassment. I know a bride likes to look the best on the day but to the detriment of all around her?

Photos to keep for posterity over, we headed for the church and after that the reception. I was stuck with the fat brother of the Groom as my partner, who even in a morning suit could not be described as a gentleman and was soon to prove my misgivings correct.

It seemed he had some beef with the groom and had decided that the on dancefloor at the beginning of the reception was the perfect place and time to air his grievance. Fuelled by an afternoon of drinking, he proceeded to pick a fight with the groom as the reception of 200 guests looked on. It came to blows and ended with a blood nose and the not so Best Man departing, leaving me partnerless. Not that I was disappointed in the least. I would have been hard pressed to keep up a conversation for more than five minutes as he was an AFL football and cricket fanatic.

Thinking that his departure was the perfect opportunity for me to rescue my new boyfriend - Big G - who had been plonked at a table with my ex-boyfriend and all his mates ( I was sure the bride did this on purpose), I suggested that he be allowed to sit at the Bridal table with us. He was wearing a grey suit, hired for the occasion and so would blend in with the colour theme. He was handsome. I was willing to let other women ogle as long as they didnt touch. But no, it seemed his suit was the wrong shade of grey. Chastised, I was given the Bride's brother as a consolation prize and poor Big G was left to suffer the black looks of my ex for the evening.

I think my former friend is still married to the fellow. I know they produced quite a brood and went to live away from the city but I've only seen her once since. For some reason, I really didnt want to be friends anymore. And when it came to my wedding, a year or so later, I did invite her. She rang me upon receiving her invitation and said it was lucky that I hadn't asked her to be a bridesmaid, she really couldn't afford it.

A Wedding Story

2011-06-10T13:41:00.000+08:00

While trying to plot out ideas for The Bastard Takes a Wife recently, I've been thinking a lot about weddings in general. I've watched a few episodes of Bridezillas (not that Millie will be one) and Dont tell the Bride for inspiration and I've been thinking a lot about the weddings I've attended. Over the years, I've managed to rack up about 40 of the little buggers and will soon be off to number 41! (Cant wait BTW - Loving the invitation) The locations have varied from backyards to sheep stations and even one in a little village at the base of Mt Hotham in Victoria. Some have been glorious and others - though I hate to admit it because friends of mine should have more taste - yes, some were heinous travesties and insults to fashion, let alone style. Not that I would ever tell anyone but you.

My first wedding story comes to you from a little town in the north of Tasmania, my home state. I was friends with this girl all through University and she was truly lovely after we stopped her getting her hair permed and wearing thick beige pantyhose with Jesus sandals. When we finished Uni she went back to her home town to become a teacher and marry her childhood sweetheart. Myself, Big G and a few close friends made the four hour journey to what can only be described as the bogan wedding of the decade.

The weather was lovely, a sunny autumn day if I recall, and we travelled the journey in my little suzuki hatch - the size of which made a Mini look spacious. Because we had to stop every half hour and right our posture we only just made it in time to see our blonde friend alighting from the car to go into the church. As we rushed past her, Big G called to me over his shoulder, "Why does she have a toilet doll on the bonnet of the car?" Mistake one. The car decoration had been lovingly knitted by the bride's 90 year old Nanna, who had since passed on. Oops.

Finding a spot at the back of the church we watched the bridal party walk down the aisle. Cue hysterical laughter from all male friends. The bride looked divine but her attendants looked like Miss Piggy. All three of them were dressed in royal blue taffeta crinolines which did little to hide their ample figures. Their hair was swept into side ponytails with plastic or possibly cheap fabric wisteria dangling from them and matching posies topped off the ensemble. To make things worse, and the hysteria of the boys louder, their male counterparts being brothers to the Groom, all looked like Herman Munster in morning suits. We were lucky to make it through the ceremony without dying from laughing too much.

Later, at the reception, we discovered that nests of three smoked glass and brass occasional tables from CopperArt were still in vogue as wedding gifts and every wedding really does have a lecherous uncle who gets pissed and tries to chat up younger guests - even his nieces! Though in his defense, he was a bit drunk and probably didnt know they were family.

We watched as the buffet was attacked. Guests took a plate from one end and then went to the other end to start on vol-au-vents and mini pizza. Odd, but apparently 'the way we do it here.' Big G made mistake number two by suggesting it would be quicker if everyone just took a plate and moved along from there. Oops. That would mean you got your potatoes before your roast. Simply not done.
We sat and listened to incredibly boring speeches and then it was time to dance. Well, it was for everyone else. The bridal table had been moved in preparation for this and was now blocking our entry. To leave, we had to crawl under and between the bride's legs. I kid you not.

Finally, having come to the conclusion that it was all a little too Hicksville for us to bear we decided that if we couldn't beat them we may as well join them. Getting pissed ourselves was the only option. So half an hour and several tequila shots later we were encouraging a game musical chairs to the strains of Funky Town and being frowned at by venue managers who were disgusted at us 'University types' for attempting to upset their tried and tested wedding format. Oh Well. We said as much about their top notch wedding venue.

A Bit More From the Bastard

2011-06-07T11:45:00.000+08:00

hThe Bastard Takes a Wifeg

Chapter 2

Adele came strolling down the travertine stairs and into the family room. She looked adorable with her hair piled carelessly on top of her head and a sweep of blue-black eyeliner decorating the lid of each eye. Having managed a flying trip to Egypt between my return and the engagement preparations, she had taken on Egyptian style makeup as her new project. Gold eyeshadow. Black eyeliner. It sort of suited her and she liked nothing better than getting one up on that Jennings cow from over the way.

“Angus is on his way,” she relayed, fluffing a throw cushion as she passed. “Got caught in traffic.”

She walked over to the cupboard and took a glass filling it with crushed ice and extra cold water. “I know you’ll like him, Millie. He’s utterly adorable - those pink and yellow shirts he wears - so, so... homosexual. He’s very highly spoken of.”

I didn’t care what he wore. I was simply relieved to find out he didn’t play full back for Cottosloe. It seemed that even at two in the morning Sam could take the piss.

“He is going to listen to what we want, isn’t he? I’m not going to get stuck in some big frou frou dress, looking like a reject from Gone With The Wind. I don’t want this to be an episode of Bethanny’s Getting Married.”

Adele sat down beside me. She placed her glass on the side table and gave my knee a gentle pat. “There’s nothing to stress about, Millie darling. Kent and Patricia have already faxed me their requests and I had a long talk with your mother on the phone last night. I know exactly what they want. Everything will be organised by the time she gets back from her cruise.”

I sat back in the chair. “But what about what Sam and I want?”

“Oh yes, well of course, you’ll get to have your say. It is your wedding.”

I was glad someone remembered that.

The doorbell rang and the soft fall of a pair of feet ushered the wedding planner into the room. He stood before us, checked shirt, carefully styled with jaunty bowtie and horn rimmed glasses. His argyle cardigan was buttoned to the top, a perfect contrast to the shirt and his brown hair was coiffed at the front in a style reminiscent of a 1990’s George Michael. Slung across his left shoulder was a huge Italian leather man bag. With a wide smile he walked towards us.

Adele rose from the sofa, lips poised for the air kiss.

“Adele, so nice to see you again. And you must be Millicent.”

I stood up and shook his hand. “Millie. Nice to meet you.”

Adele offered him a seat and he sat, whipping his bag from his shoulder and undoing it, revealed a black and white paisley printed Macbook with matching diary and notepad. The wedding planner business in Perth was clearly more lucrative than I'd imagined. It didnt take a halfwit to see it was a custom model. He fiddled around with it for a minute and shuffled in his seat.

“Right, then. Let’s get down to business shall we? It’s going to be nothing short of a miracle if we can pull this one off in four months.”

“Can I offer you a beverage before we get started, Angus? Tea? Coffee? Perrier?” Adele asked.

Angus opened his notebook. “Coffee would be divine. Decaf soy latte if you have it.”

Adele shot him a look. As if.

“So.” He sat up straight. “An Easter wedding, Millie? Doesn’t give us much time but I’ve managed it in less. I did that couple from Home and Away in two and it was absolute fabulosity in the end. Well, my ideas were. Theirs were heinous. God-awful coloured doves being released out of boxes and the like. Had to get them spray painted with food dye. Very trashy. They loved it of course and Women's Weekly paid for the lot so they didn’t give a hoot how much they spent.”

I looked at him. Stunned. I hoped he wouldn’t think my ideas were heinous and go spreading them to his next clients.

“So what were you thinking? Adele has already told me that the ceremony is going to be in a church. Have you any ideas which one? Are you religious? We’ll need to book ASAP if you want top notch. They don’t come cheap. Especially at Easter.”

I was bewildered. Sam and I had discussed the ceremony already. We wanted a simple service in the rotunda at Kings Park. A late afternoon wedding, so that as we said our vows, the sun would be setting. Not a church. I told Angus so.

“I can probably get St Joseph’s in Subiaco for you, or the Cathedral in the city or possibly the Chapel in the grounds of the Catholic Education Office if I call in a favour. All take lovely shots for the bridal album,” he continued, ignoring me.

“But we want to get married in Kings Park,” I repeated.

“Hmm. Well we can come back to that later. Now. Reception. All three families are members of the Royal Yacht Club. That’s a perfect venue. You’ll die for the views.”

I had been there with my parents and Adele and Brian on a number of occasions. The views were nice but the only thing I was dying for was for this man to shut up and listen to me.

“We want a simple wedding.”

“And the cake will be a three tier traditional fruit cake. The cars will, of course, be vintage, I have some excellent contacts there and you’ll be wanting photographs on the steps of Parliament House and five courses for the sit down. Or maybe four?”

“I want a vanilla cream cake. Simple. White. Plain. Elegant.”

Angus looked up from his notebook. “Simple doesn’t always equate with style. A cheap dress and a bunch of gerberas do not a wedding make.”

Oh for Pete’s sake. He had no idea. I shrugged and tuned out while he talked about colours schemes and themes and showers and gift registries and hen’s nights. I wished the wedding were over already. It wasn’t until he mentioned bridesmaids that I finally woke up. “I beg your pardon?” I asked, positive that he could not have questioned my choice of Alex as a bridesmaid.

Angus looked at me. Cautiously, he slipped his pen into his notebook and closed it, sliding it to the side. He faced me directly. “I’ve had a look at the photos you submitted and…”

“What photos?”

“The ones you emailed through with the gown options and the girls chosen to wear them.” He seemed bemused at my lack of understanding but not as bemused as me.

“What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t sent you anything. I don’t have any options and I only want one bridesmaid, Alex, and Paige as my Junior.”

Angus shuffled a little. “Well of course, Miss Paige, Miss Tori and Master Michael are natural choices but I’m a tad worried as to how the little Greek girl will appear in the photos.”

I opened my mouth and closed it again in astonishment. I could barely find words. “Are you saying my friend is fat?”

“Oh no. No. Heavens. She’s simply a little vertically challenged and the best man is so tall, you see. One of the other options would be far more suitable.” He tossed some photocopied shots of Kirby and Mel.

“Get. Out,” I said. Tears were stinging the back of my throat.

“But we need to…”

“You heard me, I said get out. And if you don’t get out now, I’ll get Sam to throw you out and believe me, he can throw men who weigh twice as much as you.”

That shut him up. Well, almost. I had never seen a man hoist a man-bag and run to a door as fast.

“Um I guess that’s about it for today. I have you booked in at three bridal shops for fittings over the next week so you can pick out a dress,” he called across his shoulder. “Make sure you take the rest of the bridal party with you and let’s get our first decision made. I’ll be on hand of course, to organise alterations and shoes, accessories etc. So you won’t have to worry about that.”

Oh joy. I couldn’t wait.

Interview @ Chick Lit Central & A Book Giveaway

2011-06-03T10:26:00.000+08:00

This week I had the opportunity to be a part of the fabbo blog at Chick Lit Central. Herewithin lies the interview with some rather revealing bits about me. Eek! Thanks for having me Melissa ......

Me, loving JBJ last December

Time for the second part of our Down Under week! This time, LA Dale is here for a visit to talk about writing reality romance novels and share a bit of her flair for Australian tourism.

She's also giving away one copy of her latest novel, "The Taming of the Bastard," (either paperback or e-book) to a lucky reader anywhere in the world!(By the way, when she calls a man a bastard, it is a term of endearment, not an insult like it is here.) We're stoked to have her at CLC today! More about LA: She was living in Perth, but recently moved to the country, where she can now see kangaroos in her front yard. She's a wife and mother, as well as a chocoholic and rugby union fanatic who likes to barrack her favorite team on TV. She's also a teacher, but she'll tell us more about that in her interview. Currently, she's working on a more serious romance called "Aidan and Eloise," which is based on the Dire Straits song"Romeo and Juliet." In LA's dictionary, Hugh Jackman's picture is listed under "Hot."It's been a busy week with our lovely ladies from the land of Oz and we're knackered! So enjoy what Ms. Dale has to say and then check out her blog or visit her on Facebook and Twitter. You can also find her on Goodreads, but you have to answer a question to connect with her there.

MP: What is your usual writing routine?

LD: For the last six months I’ve been long service leave from my paid job and had intentions of writing/ finishing Aidan & Eloise. That didn’t happen and I released The Taming of the Bastard instead, so I guess you could say my writing routine is varied but I usually write at weekends and in the evenings as I have a day job.

When I sit down to write, I try to get all distractions out of the way first - I check my email, FB and Twitter etc, then I write. If I’m in the zone I can write all day, stopping for food or coffee but if things aren’t going as well I tend to write in blocks of about forty minutes, then have a break.

At the beginning of a story, I look for pictures to give me ideas of how characters might look. I have an outline but I rarely stick to it. The usual way is that I have a beginning and an end but I never know how the characters are going to get there.

MP: What do you if you get writer's block?

LD: I had a bad case of block doing the demolition party scene in The Taming of the Bastard. It took me a good few months to get it to a place where I was happy and about five rewrites. Sometimes the words just don’t flow. When this happens I often go back to the beginning of the story and do a read through/edit hoping that by the time I’ve got back to that point ideas will come. Sometimes if I have something down, I write past it and go back later to refine. If it’s really bad I put the whole project away and work on something else.

MP: What inspired you to write your novels?

LD: I love reading love stories! Not necessarily cheesy romance- though I do go in for the odd historical heaving bosom variety every now and again - but stories where boy meets girl and they have a happy ending. I also love chick lit and read tonnes of that. I get really inspired by the stories of my favourite authors like Lisa Jewell.

I first started writing when we moved from home in Tasmania to the other side of Australia. I’d done a bit of writing at University, but it was only for fun. Then I was left with two small kids, a husband who was working away from home and no friends or family. I was very lonely and began to write as a way to pass the time at night. The first book I wrote - Heart of Glass - came about because I was thinking about a boy I knew when I was fifteen or sixteen. He was sort of my first love and so I based the character of Ben loosely on him at the beginning of the book. I often wondered what happened to him over the years, so I made up a story.

My other two books are also very loosely based on people I knew too - though the events were definitely fictional. I’ve never done the things the girls in my books get up to.

I love music and get very inspired by lyrics. I often hear them and think ‘that would make a great story’ and the other night I had a great dream, which I wrote down with the intention of making a novella from it.

MP: If you were not a writer, what job would you like to have?

LD: Well, I actually do have a day job as an Early Childhood Teacher. I used to teach Year One but now I teach children who struggle with reading. It’s lovely when they finally ‘get it’ and we can share a love of reading together. If I wasn’t a teacher or a writer though, my ‘dream’ had always been to be a singer in a band or an archeologist (weird combination). I sang when I was at Uni and loved it - now my son is a professional musician. And I love old stuff and history.

MA: If you could choose a book of yours to be made into a movie, which would you pick and who would be cast as the leads?

LD: Funnily, I’ve had this discussion with a few readers and friends lately. It would definitely be Heart of Glass as it already has a soundtrack! I think the story would translate well to screen too as it happens over a period of years and has lots of ups and downs. Abbie Cornish (Sucker Punch) and Sam Worthington (Avatar) would play Bella and Ben as they are both Australian. I saw them in an Australian movie called Jindabyne a few years ago and they were brilliant together. She would have Bella’s vulnerability down easily and Sam does the swagger thing well.

MA: Where is the farthest you've ever traveled from home?

LD: I went on a Mediterranean Cruise with my husband in March. We went to Italy, Spain, Portugal and Morocco. We stayed in Rome for a few days at the end and it was so lovely. I wanted to write a story about the Trevi Fountain as that was the view from the balcony of our hotel. I thought it would make a sweet romance setting.

MA: You write "reality romance". Tell us more about this genre.

Kings Park in Perth, my old stomping ground.

LD: I don’t tend to fit into a romance/women’s fiction/ chicklit mold exactly, so I invented my own. I write from reality - stories I’ve heard, things I’ve seen, my own life experiences are all incorporated into my books. Lots of characters are based on people I knew or know though they take on their own life when they get into my story. I also like to write in first person, giving the lead character a more personal feel. Some people don’t like that you can hear every thought that goes on in Bella’s head or that Flora is nice on the outside but thinks sarcastic things on the inside or that the girls in The Taming of the Bastard put up with stuff from the men because they love them but that’s life, isn’t it? Women don’t just walk out on men. They don’t always say what they think. They are selfish at times and can use other people when they feel hurt. I write about that because its life. I don’t gloss over stuff and my readers seem to appreciate it.

MA: Since you're a chocoholic, what is your favorite kind of chocolate?

LD: Oh God. Any, except dark chocolate. I absolutely adore Cadbury Peppermint Chocolate - could live on it, in fact - and Red Tulip Easter Eggs. Easter is a very bad time of year for me! I also favour any food with chocolate in it especially chocolate cakes and caramel slice. Yum. It’s a family joke that when we go out for dinner I order from the dessert trolley instead of the menu.

MA: What is the funniest thing that has happened to you recently (or that you have done)?

LD: Embarrassing things happen to me all the time, so it’s lucky I can laugh at myself. A while back I was wandering through a department store and banged head first into a large square column, the type that holds up the floors. It was covered in mirrors and because I was daydreaming, I thought I’d crashed into another person so I apologised to the pole. When I turned around the shop assistants at the counter were laughing their heads off.

Last week I was doing a relief teaching day at a new school and I tucked my skirt into my undies when I went to the loo. The teaching assistant had to tell me after I walked past a whole group of parents with my knickers showing.

MP: What are some of the places that you always take visitors to when they come to visit you in Perth?

Lovely city of Freo

LD:Well, as of last month I no longer live in Perth. I have moved to a farm in the country. My husband and I built a solar passive house and are going green! But I’m still a city girl wearing my designer gumboots with the West Highland Terriers on them (my dog is a Westie) so when we have visitors we tend to do a range of things. I love taking them to Fremantle (pictured here), south of the river, to have lunch and go to the market. Its artsy and eclectic and they have great jewellery and food. We also take our friends to the Swan Valley. There are wineries there and a chocolate factory - two of my favourite things. My nephew loves to go to Perth Zoo when he visits too. I like it because it has Indonesian Sun Bears and Tasmanian Fairy Penguins (my real home) and turtles (my favourite animal). There’s also heaps of Australian native animals. And no visit to Western Australia would be complete with out going to see a rugby match if it’s the season! We are long suffering supporters and always have spare members seats for our friends. It makes for a fun night out.

At our new home we have a cidery that’s won tonnes of awards. The happy hour on Friday evening with live music is fast becoming a favourite to take friends to when they come to stay.

Special thanks to LA for our fun little chat and for providing the book for the giveaway.
How to win "The Taming of the Bastard":

Please comment below with your e-mail address.

(Please note: Entries without an e-mail address will NOT be counted. You can use AT and DOT to avoid spam. Or provide a link to your facebook page or blog if you can receive messages there.)

Bonus entries (can be listed all in one post):

1. Please tell us: What is your favorite thing about or from Australia?

2. LA's huge grin in her picture is because Jon Bon Jovi was right in front of her at the time.

Please tell us: What is the closest you've ever gotten to a celebrity?

3. Follow this blog and post a comment saying you are a follower (if you already follow, that's fine too).

4. Post this contest on Facebook or Twitter or in your blog, and leave a comment saying where you've posted it.

5. Join Chick Lit Central on Facebook. Edit settings if you don't want to receive a lot of messages at your e-mail account. (If you're already a member, let us know that too.)

6. Add a friend to our Facebook group. (Tell us who you added.)Be sure to remind them about editing their settings.

Giveaway ends June 6th at midnight EST.

More by LA Dale:

Freebie Friday - It's Back!!! Except on Tuesday

2011-05-31T10:42:00.001+08:00

Yes, people. Freebie Friday is back. This week I thought I might share with you the opening chapter of The Bastard Takes a Wife. I'm thinking this sequel may take the form of a few short novellas. Love to hear what you think about it...

hChapter 1g

“What the hell is this?” I shook the small piece of parchment paper under Sam’s nose. He’d done it again. Organised without consulting me first. “Well?”

“A wedding invitation.”

“Der, Sam. Of course, it’s a bloody wedding invitation. D’you think I’m a complete moron? I meant why has it got our names on it?” My fingernail punched the parchment, hard enough to put a hole in it where our names were. It was a safer alternative than a real stabbing.

Sam looked at me from across the kitchen bench. He gave a small and rather patronizing smile, “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

“Don’t be a smartarse.”

“I’m not. You never asked me why it has our names on it.”

I took a deep breath. I spoke very slowly. Clearly, this was going to be a long winded process. After thirty years on this Earth Sam was still mastering the art of girl speak. “Sam. Honey. This wedding invitation has our names on it. Could you please explain why?” I’d never given the okay to any invitation. In fact, I’d never even looked at any, and if I had I would never have chosen that one. Bleuch.

“Mum sent it over from Sydney.”

My eyes bulged. I tried to take the information in but I was having trouble breathing. “We’ve only been engaged two weeks. How the hell could she plan a whole wedding in two weeks? And why wasn’t I consulted? It’s my bloody wedding, after all.”

“Our wedding.”

I glared at him. Sometimes he could be such an arse. He’d already told me I could have anything I wanted as long as he didn’t have to wear a cummerbund or hear about table arrangements. Now it was our wedding? Taking another deep breath, I cast my eyes to the paper in my hand. Hideous colours, hideous font and… Oh My God, a church! Since when had we been getting married in a church? The last time I’d set foot in a church the priest had nearly had a heart attack. I know I’d joked about a church when we’d first gotten engaged but that had been because Sam was church-a-phobic not because I wanted to get married in one. ‘What is this?” I asked, too shocked to even utter the word.

Sam’s eyes followed mine down the page. “I thought you wanted a church wedding.”

“And who, pray tell, is Angus?” Might as well get all the shocks out of the way at once.

“Our wedding planner.”

“Our. Wedding. Planner. Okay. Where did he come from?”

“He plays full back for Cottosloe. I thought it might take some of the stress off you.” He smiled and grabbed me by the waist. He really had thought he was doing a good deed with that one but, seriously, he had to be kidding. This wedding was going to end up like Tequila Night at the club if I didn’t put a stop to it. “He’s pretty efficient. He’s already booked the mobile DJ and the belly dancers for the reception. And he’s looking into the Cinderella carriage tomorrow.”

My head began to swim. A buzzing feeling rang in my ears, reverberating through my head. Sam’s face went blurry before me eyes, then darker, darker. The kitchen floor was very close. Shit.

*****

“Millie? Millie!” Someone was shaking me. “Millie, wake up.”

I opened my eyes, rubbing the heaviness from them with my fist. My head was filled with a sudden ungodly headache “You okay, Babe?” Sam asked. “You were screaming in your sleep again.”

I looked around the room. I was in bed. Sweat was trickling down the side of my face and I wiped it away with the back of my hand before sitting up, still befuddled.

“You had a bad dream.”

More like a nightmare. I blinked, trying to dissipate the remnants. “Yes.”

“Is everything okay? You seem to be doing a lot of that lately.”

I was dreaming about the wedding. It was weird. Your mother had organised it all and it was nothing like what we wanted,” I replied, settling back into the crook of Sam’s arm and cuddling into his chest. His lovely vanilla musk scent soothed me.

He gave me a loving squeeze. “That reminds me,” he said, half asleep. “I booked a wedding planner. I thought it might take some of the stress off you, but if you don’t like him we can choose another. His name’s Angus. Angus Adams.”

Oh. My. God.

One of THOSE Dreams...

2011-05-20T11:23:00.000+08:00

For the last couple of weeks, I've been lacking motivation and I don't mean just in the writing department. My exercise and eating plan has gone adrift resulting in a re-emergence of hideous numbers on the scales, I've been sleeping poorly and I haven't felt like participating in much of anything. I haven't even written anything really, just phaffed around with rubbish. I don't know if it's the move, worry over the house or missing the children that's causing this depressive feeling but my guess is a combination of everything - not to mention the horrendous bout of cold sores I had last week that made me look like a scab ridden alien.

Anyway, in desperation, last night I took my hypnosis app to bed. I lulled myself into a beautiful deep sleep and I woke up in the early hours - it was still dark - to the sound of rain on our tin roof (I love being in bed when it rains.) I felt surprisingly rested and peaceful but it wasn't from the hypnosis. I had had the most amazing dream. It was one of those dreams where you wake and want to go back to sleep so the dream will continue. I even laid there for half an hour with my eyes closed just in case I could will it to happen like I had years ago with the dream about Jon Bon Jovi. (now that was a dream). Alas, the dream didn't return but it did leave me with a great idea for a new story - a novella at this stage and a sense of enthusiasm I haven't had for weeks. I'm not going to divulge the plot to you as yet - I haven't decided on the ending - but it's a love story (of course) that takes place over the course of three days with a working title "Three Days till You Die." Maybe. Of course, knowing me that could change.

Now I'm off to work.

PS: Thank you to all the readers who have posted lovely reviews on Amazon and Goodreads of late. It makes me feel rather chuffed when I hear that you liked my stories and want to read more. Feel free to send me a message anytime!

I Mean, it's Not Like I'm Asking to Be Amanda Hocking or Anything

2011-05-17T19:29:00.000+08:00

Dear God/ Big Publisher/ Agent with Clout,
As you know, I've been hammering away at the keys now for quite a few years and over the past few months have enjoyed a modicum of success out there in Amazon land. Readers are posting reviews, mostly positive, and I even seem to have a little fan base happening that doesn't include my Mum or other members of my immediate family. So... my question is this.... don't you think it's about time you stopped ignoring me and gave me a publishing deal too? To strengthen my case, I introduce the following as evidence.
1. Last month I sold over 5000 books on Amazon alone. I didnt receive 5000 shit reviews - thank God - so clearly someone must have liked my odd brand of writing. That could translate into thousands of bums in movie theatres. It could. Just think about it
2. I've spent the last year cultivating contacts - otherwise known as sucking up or brown-nosing - and funnily enough those who previously ignored me are now asking me to appear on their blogs. Even some lovely bloggers I've never spoken to before seem to want to talk to me when last May it was all I could do to get one to return an email.
3. I spent so long on Twitter and Goodreads during my Long Service Leave that my husband was threatening divorce. Starting an account so that we could have a conversation wasn't out of the question either.
4. I am nice. Well, some people might say I'm a tad loud and forthright but I do mean well and I didnt really mean to say I thought the Twilight Saga was crap and I liked my Bella way better. Even though I did.
5. I must have some sort of talent. People have started asking me when the next book is coming out.
6. I already have a blog, a Facebook/Goodreads/Twitter page and I try to be diligent in getting myself out there like people say I should.
7. I'm not that ugly. With a bit of photoshop I could probably look okay on the inside of a dust jacket even though my last birthday wasn't one of the twenty numbers.

Now, I know you want best sellers, and seriously, I'm tired of my day job. I want to stay at home all day and write. So how about we give it a go? I'm not asking to be the next Amanda Hocking or anything. I'm not stupid enough to think that might happen. All I want is enough money to stay at home in comfort and whip out a few more Bastardy novels or maybe a movie deal if you could swing it.

Cheers

LA Dale xoxo

A Guide to The Taming of the Bastard

2011-05-11T10:37:00.005+08:00

After reading some reviews people have posted recently, saying that they had a bit of a hard time with some of the Australianisms in The Taming of the Bastard, I decided that a little Glossary of People, Places and terms may be in order. That way you wont have to go searching around on the Urban Dictionary.

View Larger Map

Places...
The story is set it Perth, Western Australia - I've never been to Perth in Scotland and it would take too much time doing research.
The suburbs - Nedlands, Subiaco, Claremont and Cottosloe- featured in the story are on the map above and are commonly know as the GT or Golden Triangle - and not because they grow/make poppies/opium/heroin. Well, they might but I've never seen any and I walked there every day. They are the more expensive areas of the city.
Millie lives in Nedlands and Sam in Subiaco/West Perth. She likes to go shopping in Mount Lawley - the hip cafe strip where all the under 30's in Perth hang out on the eastern side of the freeway. (See larger map)
NIB stadium is a real place - the Western Force (my beloved rugby team) have it as their home ground as do the Perth Glory, our Soccer Team. It's located in one of those green patches near Lord St on th East side of the map. Sam Plays rugby there.
The Eagles (bleuch) are an Australian Rules Football team -AFL. They play at Subiaco Oval and are adored by most people in Perth - except the sensible ones who like rugby ;)

People mentioned in the Story
Nathan Sharp - Captain of the Western Force. I once saw a couple who had just been married come to have a photo in the middle of the pitch with him at half time during a game. Ridiculous but I thought it might be funny to add in.
Matt Giteau - used to play for the Force but defected to another team, so we have to hate him by default. He is also a Wallaby.
Wallaby - yes, I know its a cute kangaroo thing but its also the name of our Australian Rugby Union Team. One day we will be world champs again. One day.
Kevin Rudd - was the Australian Prime Minister until mid 2010. He looks a bit like Mr Sheen - you know the man who makes your house all clean.
Lindy Chamberlain - no, not me though we have the same first name. She is famous for her baby being stolen by a dingo at Ayres Rock in 1980. Meryl Streep did the worst Australian accent ever when she played her in a movie which was so silly I can't remember the name.
All Blacks - the New Zealand Rugby team. Arch enemies of everyone Australian
Springboks - South African Rugby team. Known for playing very rough and not being as pretty as the Australians.
Nicole and Keith - Hello, if you don't know who they are, you have been living under a rock.

Terms - some of which must surely be international?
Ranga - a red head
Wifebeater - a Bonds singlet or vest - preferably in workman blue
Backyard Blitz - A tv garden makeover show popular in early 2000's.
Scrum - eight forwards in the rugby game bend over in a huddle, opposing teams facing and push against each other to get the ball off the ground. Very painful and smelly as they have their faces in each others bottoms
Maul - a big blob of players trying to get the ball
Ruck - the big blob of players, above, fall onto the ground and still try to get the ball. The laws as to who can actually take the ball at this stage are very specific and because we are the only team who do not cheat at this point in the game (we dont need to as we have the mighty David Pocock) we always seem to lose the ball.
Boat race - a drinking game where men stand in a line of two teams and drink as fast as they can. Girls are not allowed in the team as it might show the men up
Bogan - a lower class neanderthal with limited brain power and a big expensive v8 car, tacky clothes, tattoos and a stereo home theatre system. Suffers from I-am-better-than-you Syndrome where by gets pissed and has to take on the world in a fight. Very uncouth.
Pissed - drunk, intoxicated
as opposed to pissed off - angry

Hope that helps!
Enjoy

Who Wants Free Books? We Do!

2011-05-08T18:36:00.000+08:00

Hi Readers,
I'm feeling generous tonight and feeling like giving away a free book or two. So if you've read one of my books in the past and would like to read another for free, here's what you have to do.
1. Post a review of the book you've already read on Amazon, Smashwords, Goodreads or even a blog if you like (hopefully a nice review and not ridiculous unless you feel like being that way). It doesn't have to be massive - a couple of concise honest sentences about what you thought is fab and while you're at it click the 'Like' button up near the book description. If you're feeling super techno and generous, you could even cut and paste to all the sites you're a member of. Who knows, it might be worth an extra book or two?
2. Email me a link to your review with your name and nominate which book you would like and in what format (except paperback - sorry guys, not funds for paperback this time. I'm way too poor with all this house stuff.
3. Wait with anticipation for your delivery.
4. Start reading... and don't forget to tell all your friends. A few tweets along the way to let me know how you're liking your gift would be super.

Why am I doing this? Well, yesterday a lovely reader named Stacia sent me a message on my Facebook page telling me how much she'd loved my books and was dying to get The Taming of the Bastard in another format than kindle - if you read yesterdays post you'll already know of that dilemma. Anyway, it made me feel so good, after someone had been rather cruel earlier in the week, that I sent her a copy straight away. Free. Just because she seemed like a very nice girl. Hope you enjoy it Stacia!
Then I thought, why not reward a few other nice people? And who doesn't want something for free??

This offer is good for the first twenty people who email me, so get those fingers typing people and send your linky to glrahn.at.gmail.dot.com

Oh, the Joy

2011-05-07T10:16:00.000+08:00

Sometimes being a writer is fun. You have lovely people who send you little messages to tell you how much they enjoyed your work and can't wait for more. You have fabulous moments when you're writing a chapter or scene and the words fly out of your fingers onto the page and you know you'll never have to edit them because they're just how you want them to be. Then there's the infinite pride you feel when you hold your first book in your hand.
Of course, it's not all champagne and peppermint chocolate. You also have to deal with the Smashwords meatgrinder. Oh. My. God.
For those of you who are untechno savvy, the Meatgrinder is a big thingy in the sky that converts a Word file into an eBook on the Smashwords page. Don't ask me how it works but you put your file in one end and it comes out the other in lots of neat packages that people can read in every format possible - Nook, Kindle, iPad, on your PC etc.
The last time I uploaded to the site it was easy. I went through the text and formatted it according to the Style Guide. I uploaded it with my cover image and PRESTO! An ebook for 1000's to read. This time? Well, let's just say eating my laptop would be easier.
The process began on Thursday morning. I did all the usual things and uploaded The Taming of the Bastard. Then I received a message saying I was #3389 in the queue. Fair enough, except when I checked an hour later I had only moved twenty spots and after a few hours only a hundred. Seriously, what were the people in front of me uploading? War and Peace II? So, I waited something like 2100 minutes (it has a ridiculous thing that tells you how many minutes you've been waiting which makes it even worse) and finally got to the front only to be told I had hidden tabs and had forgotten to load the front cover.
Grrr.
I fixed it - it took me four hours last night - luckily we have no Foxtel at our house yet so I couldn't be lured away by the rugby. I uploaded again. I came back this morning and as of now I am still #2000 and something in the queue.
God. Could this be any slower.
So, yes, little Joey, in answer to your question.... sometimes being a writer is no fun at all. But one nice review makes it all worth while.

Ps: While you're waiting with me why not check out the other titles I already have there.... they'd like some love too! Here's the Mr Linky... CLICK ME!

These things can make your day....

2011-05-03T09:48:00.000+08:00

The Taming of the Bastard, by L.A. Dale

A review by Tiffany Harkleroad of www.tiffanysbookshelf.blogspot.com

Millie is a woman with a plan. She works two jobs to save her money, so that she can buy and run a bed and breakfast resort in Indonesia. There is no room in the plan for romance, particularly if that romance involves a boorish rugby playing womanizer. Yet, one cannot choose who one loves, not even in Millie's case. So, the question is, what happens to all her plans?

This was such a cute little romance. I absolutely adored Millie's character, though she had a lot more patience than I would have. I love the description of the women in the book, and could easily see them featured in their own "Sex in the City" type of movie. These woman made me chuckle numerous times, and I really felt like another girl in their group. Brilliant character development all the way around. As far as Sam goes, he is the man I want to hate, and just cannot, which I suspect is how Millie felt as well.

I liked the little secrets that are woven into the storyline. Some of them I suspected, while others I had no clue. But all in all the story flowed nicely, and I loved the resolution at the end.

I have preached on numerous occasions on why I disliked romance novels in the past. It is books like this one that converted me into a romance reader. I love when a romance novel hints at sexiness, flirts with naughtiness, but steers away from out and out erotica. I think that is way more romantic and sexy, and this book fits into that category nicely. A contemporary romance that simply smolders without the smut.

Things Not To do When You're Housesitting

2011-04-23T11:36:00.001+08:00

At the moment, I'm house sitting for some friends. We've been in the process of moving for a couple of weeks and all our stuff is in the shed at the new house. Its not finished of course (see picture.) Otherwise, I wouldn't be house sitting. I would be sitting on my non-existent deck sipping a bubbly and dreaming about making #1 on the Kindle Bestsellers list.
It's a bit weird being in someone else's house while they're away. I've no one to talk to - the kids are now ensconced in the little flat Big G and I got for them so they dont have to suffer the country life. (Ah, bear in mind they're adults... they can actually look after themselves. Sort of. I still feel like Im abandoning them though.)

Anyway, while I was relaxing on my friends' leather sofa last evening it came to me that I could get up to a lot mischief whilst home alone. I could be like Tom Cruise and throw a massive party - except all my friends have gone away for Easter and nobody would come - or I could be Macaulay Culkin and pretend I had lots of friends using cardboard cut outs. Either way. Im positive I could cause a ruckus.

So what are my top 10 things to avoid whilst house sitting? Assuming, of course, you want to remain friends with the owners...

1. Dont go peeking through their cupboards and drawers when you get bored. People keep vibrators and things in their drawers. You don't want to be having nightmares about what your friends get up to when you're not there.
2. Don't drink their alcohol or eat their easter eggs with the intention of replacing them. When you go to the shops the brand you want will be sold out and they'll be sure to recognise you've swapped them for something not as worthy.
3. Don't bring your cute puppies to stay .... they'll only frighten the cat and you'll have the fun of cleaning poop from the fake turf. Plus they'll bark at all the strange new things thereby putting you in the bad books with the neighbours.
4. Don't download questionable videos on your friends WIFI account unless you're positive you'll remember to delete them before you leave. Or you could leave them... your friends might like that sort of thing.
5. Don't attempt to use the coffee machine even if you've used one before. It's not the same as the one you have at home. The coffee is bitter to your taste and steam really burns when you press buttons by accident and get it on your hand.
6. Dont forget to feed the cat. That is the reason you're there after all.

Oh and have a lovely stay.

You Decide...

2011-04-10T17:39:00.000+08:00

Which of these possible covers would be your choice and why? Bear in mind this is the way I've been spending my whole afternoon instead of writing but they are only drafts. (It was either that or watch the replay of the rugby and I've definitely had enough of that for one weekend). So your choice.... use your voice - or keyboard as it may.

The Radisson Edwardian Book Club

2011-04-08T09:31:00.000+08:00

A guest post by Tim Roux of Night Publishing

There has been an extremely interesting development in the book world – the prestigious hotel group Radisson Edwardian have set up a book club whereby they give all their guests at their Radisson Edwardian Bloomsbury Street Hotel, London, a courtesy book of the month.
Why Bloomsbury? Well, based on the Bloomsbury literary group of the early 20th century, as you might suspect.
It a bit boggles the mind how the literary editor of the Radisson Edwardian Book Club, Chris Moss of trendy London guide Time Out, chooses a book to meet the tastes of all 14,000 guests who stay there each month, but it has to be a lovely idea for people like us who enjoy a good book and, it has to be said, a good hotel, starving authors that we are.
There you are, you arrive at the hotel tired and in need of instant relaxation, the TV doesn’t appeal, you’ve seen all the movies, what you need is a good book – hey presto, here it is and, if those guests are exceptionally lucky, it will be a Night Publishing book too.
Oh come on, nobody gets that lucky.
Funnily enough, though, that is why Night Publishing is so-called. It was originally set up to supply fun business books to business travellers in hotels – not the stuff that you hang on your wall as a trophy in the unlikely pretence that you have actually read it – all ten pages that matter out of 500 anyway – but really entertaining business-related books like Matt Beaumont’s ‘Company’ or Maxx Barry’s ‘Syrup’.
Well, that idea never took off – why would a hotel be interested in offering its guests books? – but it lingered on in the publisher’s name and in its Relax at Night book showcase brand.
Full circle. Here is the Radisson Edwardian Book Club keen to indulge its guests in a good book like T.S. Elliot’s poems (they really want you to have a good night’s sleep, those guys) or ‘A Room With A View’ (geddit?), and here is Night eager once again to step up to the mark to supply them at least occasionally with just the sort of book that will make their guests happiest, a naturally talented and tasty treat from a much cherished free range author.
Happy ever after.
And what books are Night suggesting first to the Radisson Edwardian Book Club?
Well, there is Charlotte Castle’s ‘Simon’s Choice’, the broad appeal family drama which asks “Would you accompany your dying child to heaven?”

Then there is Danny Bent's 'You've Gone Too Far This Time, Sir!' chronicling the everyday adventures and misadventures of Danny Bent as he cycled 10,000 miles from London to Chembakolli in Southern India with a very sore bum and chased across mountain tops by a masked robber on horseback (headline - 'Vicious bum chases aching bum').

Third suggestion: 'The Bookie's Runner', Brendan Gisby's seminal portrait of a man of no importance - his father - who thought he had worked out how to get one big win on the horses before he died, and he was right, but …...

And then the truly outrageously good, as-Jane-Austen-would-have-written-it-if-she-had-been-born-in-Atlanta-Georgia, 'The Wilful Daughter', where a successful middle-class blacksmith is absolutely determined to marry off his five eligible and beautiful daughters to the right suitors in the appropriate order, and his fifth, most attractive and wilful, daughter is equally set on having it, and the man she loves, her way.

Finally a lyrical fable, a plea for friendship across races, however unlikely that might be, a book for all ages and all time, George Polley's 'The Old Man & The Monkey'.

Hell, I would stay in the Radisson Edwardian Bloomsbury Street just to read those books.
P.S. Actually I would like to add a personal story of my experience with the Radisson Edwardian hotel group. I used to live between France, Belgium and the UK, so travelled a lot into London Heathrow, London Luton, London Stansted and London Gatwick airports. One day I arrived at Heathrow desperate to get onto the Internet and to have some lunch. I had travelled past the Radisson Edwardian hotel at Heathrow many times and it looked really pretty, so on that basis alone I bowled in there and said “I don’t suppose you will accept this from a non-resident, but I would love to get on the Internet and I would love to have lunch, will you help me?” They were charm itself, they offered me my own office and a not expensive lunch, and I did everything I had to do in 3-4 hours. They are still my favourite Heathrow airport hotel (and I do have experience of a few others).

Anyway, if you think that the Radisson Edwardian Bloomsbury Street Hotel might be worth a free book, here it is:

You know you're having a bad day when....

2011-04-05T15:32:00.000+08:00

Hello Sweeties,
I know I've been M.I.A for a few weeks but I've been off touring Italy, Spain and Portugal. Unfortunately, the trip was not paid for by book sales. One day though. One day. After having such a fabbo time it was a pity that the end of our holiday was marred by Big G having his phones (work and private) stolen from his luggage while in transit. I didn't mention to him while he was ranting about the injustice that I had suggested he put a lock on his bag. I like my head attached to my shoulders. He was quite overwrought and would have bitten it off.
So for the last couple of days we've had a touch a jet lag and haven't been that good on the sleep front. Lack of sleep isn't good for me but it turns Big G into a bear with a sore head when he misses a few zzz's. Add to it the fact that he had no phone and nobody seemed to care and you can imagine the look on his face, especially when he was reduced to using Princess's old touch screen phone - quite a technological advance three years ago but a bit dated after iPhone appeared.
Poor baby, he's really having a bad day....
1. He's only had three hours sleep.
2. After ringing the Airline three times and speaking to three different people he discovered that they don't cover 'lost' luggage. I fail to see how two phones can be 'lost' if they were in the bag when we left and the bag was closed when we got it back unless Chris Angel was on board or David Copperfield.
3. He went to claim the 'lost' phones on our travel insurance but the forms were so hard to understand and fill in he decided to give up.
4. He rang our general insurer only to be told that they would give him a new phone but he would have to pay $200 excess. He only wants a cheap $100 phone to cover until the end of the plan in a few months.
5. I told him to go to Dick Smith to buy a cheap replacement. When he got there the shop was shut 'due to unforeseen circumstances.' Now he's stuck with Princess's old phone for another day and the screen saver is of James O'Connor. Fine if you're a 17 year old girl. A bit creepy for a 50 year old man.
6. He came with me to view a flat for Princess and Ham after we leave home. It was perfect. We got all excited and were then told it wasn't available till May even though it was advertised as now on the net.
7. He rang the estate agent to find that the sale of our investment property has most likely fallen through. Two weeks ago. This jeopardises all our moving plans quite a bit. Not to mention our budget.
8. He filled in five forms to move his Superannuation to a new fund because all the people in charge couldnt decide which one was the right one. It took two months of emails, calls and forms and he thought it was sorted. Today he got a letter to say he needed to fill in another for the tax office. God how hard can it be.
Well, to top it off, he went to give himself a squirt of man perfume only to find the squirter gone from the top of the bottle.
Poor baby, he's having a hard day.

The Taming of the Bastard

2011-03-15T10:25:00.001+08:00

Yes folks, I was going to blog about how I got stuck in the chiropractors bed and she had to cut my hair to release me but I thought I should let you know that The Taming of the Bastard is now available on Kindle. The Smashwords version will be available shortly, as too, a paperback version for all of you who still love the smell of a book. If you have a man in your life you'd like to tame (or would like one) then this is definitely the book for you and if you're a long suffering grass widow, like me, then you'll be able to relate in so many ways you'll probably think I was in the clubrooms stalking your partner.

For those of you who didn't partake in the early draft versions of the story via Freebie Friday here is the synopsis....

Nanny-slash-waitress, Millie McIntyre thinks she has her life all mapped out. All it will take is a small mortgage, a fat deposit and a lot of luck. Then, she'll be off living her dream life, running a B & B in Bali. That is, of course, after she learns how to cook something other than steamed vegetables and organic chicken.
Nobody warned her about Sam though. He's new to The Lederhosen and his presence has everyone in a spin, including Millie.
Sam is cute. Sam is intelligent. Sam has lovely muscles which Millie finds utterly distracting.Yet, despite his obvious appeal, Sam has one massive flaw. He has an ego the size of Western Australia and even worse, he plays Rugby Union.
Could Sam be the one who will ruin all Millie's life plans? Is she really smitten with a man who loves Bruce Willis and proudly proclaims his abilty to burp the national anthem?
One thing's for sure.... something has got to change.

Here's the Mr Linky so you can all pop over and buy for the incredible launch price of .99c! Yes, .99c, that wasn't a typo!!! Don't forget to share the love with your friends

click here to buy

And for the first 3 people who email me (glrahn at gmail dot com) I will give you a free copy if you are prepared to give an honest review in a timely fashion. Even better if you have an Amazon account and can post there!

Hope you enjoy the story

The Girl Who Cried Wolf (not me)

2011-03-11T10:31:00.000+08:00

You know the old story about the boy who cried wolf. It's true. Really.
I hate excuses and rarely use them (though sometimes a white lie has been known to slip from between my lips). I also have little time for people who give lame arsed excuses as to why they can no longer do a certain thing when its obvious they just cant be bothered. And, there really are only a certain amount of excuses that will be accepted before people begin to question your validity or even begin to think you are a complete nutter.
The case in point is a friend of mine, a very good friend who is the Queen of shitty, ridiculous totally unbelievable excuses. She has an excuse for everything but they mostly relate to not wanting to engage in exercise, which is fine by me, I hate it too on most occasions. Sometimes they're about why she's late. She's terminally late, by the way. If there was a disease or addiction involving lateness, she'd most likely have it. Sometimes they're even about not wanting to go somewhere which is really odd.
In the past, my friend has invented some pathetic excuses most of which I do not believe but use as a source of amusement on dull nights when there's not much on tv. Here are the top 10, in order of frequency of use
1. I had gastro
2. I had cramps
3. I had a migraine
4. I had to take my daughter to work
5. I had to take ..... to West Perth
6. My daughter's car broke down
7. I have to cook dinner and I just got home
8. I didnt leave work till late
9. I have to do the accounts for the shop
10. I have to do my tax/write a job application
As you can see, all quite pathetic and some of which could have been avoided (if true) with a bit of forward planning. The best however is yet to come.
The other week she told me she would not be able to go to our regular Zumba class because she'd pulled a ligament in her stomach and had been told to rest by the doctor. Um, you don't actually have ligaments in your stomach. After I stopped laughing at the text, I replied, stating that. I don't think she was happy. She didnt reply back even though she probably knew I was taking the piss. The next session she told me her stomach was better but she couldn't come as she had to do her tax from 2002 because her partner - whom she split from in about 2006 - hadn't done it. Yes, I did say 2002. That wasn't a typo. To say I rolled my eyes would be putting it mildly. Big G pissed himself laughing. I mean, it would have been more plausible to tell me her dog ate it or something - except for the fact that I know he passed on last year of old age.
Then last week, I had the best one ever. The sad part was, it was true and for some reason - heaven's knows what that would be - I didnt want to believe it. Her grandmother died. I know it was true. I know she was very upset but my brain has been so conditioned to her excuses, I almost laughed when she told me. That's cruel I know, but I couldn't help it. My friend had cried wolf so many times I simply couldn't fathom that it was legitimate, even though I knew it was.
I wonder what her excuse will be tomorrow? Chopped her leg off in the garden mulcher maybe?

E is for .... ecofriendly

2011-03-05T16:10:00.000+08:00

I probably don't seem like one of those eco-friendly, greeny, hippie types and I will openly admit that I've never chained myself to a tree to save an old growth forest, let alone wear anything remotely related to hemp, but I am a bit of an Eco-nut. So, is Big G. So much so, that our new house (the nearly finished one) is going to be quite an eco-friendly master piece.

We have massive water tanks - well, we sort of need those because there is no scheme water, so I guess they don't count but at least we're harnessing a natural resource and not wasting or better yet paying for it. We have solar hot water and photovoltaic panels on the roof to generate our own power. Okay, so we got them because we object to paying exorbitant electricity bills to Western Power and we get money from them but we do have them. Our house is a solar passive design, meaning it is meant to suck up heat when we don't need it and give it back when we do, so we shouldn't require a heater or air conditioner. This is Bridgetown we're talking about though. After a cold winter we may need to review that but even if we do need a heater we won't need it on as much. Another saving. We have bokashi buckets to make compost, a worm farm, a vegie garden, chooks and cows and sheep. I've even invested in a bread maker and yogurt maker - well, I didn't actually invest, my friend gave them to me. In fact, we are a bit like a 16 acre version of The Good Life.
Gosh, that doesn't make me sound green does it? I sound like Scrooge. But Scrooge wouldn't fork out a truckload of money to save some. He probably just sat and froze.

D is for... diets

2011-03-04T08:45:00.000+08:00

As if you hadn't guessed by now I am a lifetime member of the Diet Round-a-bout. I think I got my membership at around the age of 17 and have upgraded yearly since then until I finally reached Platinum status.
The diet round-a-bout is a bit like Frequent Flyers except instead of getting free flights for spending money or flying a lot you get to try out every diet fad known to man, the object being to lose weight - the ultimate prize being that you end up fatter than you started. It's not a popular club for this reason but one that many of us are on.
I can honestly say I must have tried them all - Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers (I am a lifetime member), shakes, pills, low fat, no fat, high protein. I've been on so many diets my body gets a shock when I actually sit down and eat a normal meal. Yet, I don't have an eating disorder, as such. More of a vanity disorder. so don't get me wrong here. I'm not obese by any stretch of the imagination but I certainly could be if I wasn't careful. I just don't want to be fat. I don't want to end up like ALL the women on my mother's side who are as wide as they are tall. I am fighting against freakin' heredity and my sweet foods addiction here. Added to that, I love food and wine. I mean LOVE. It's not easy.
When I was younger, dropping a few pounds was easy. Need to look good in the ball gown? A week of lean steak and salad, yogurt and fruit could do that in a heartbeat. Not now. Now that I'm in my 40's its all about the above plus portion sizes, plus no alcohol, plus working my butt off at least four times a week in training. Then I walk the dogs too. And after all that effort? 200 grams. Sometimes, I have to ask myself was it worth it?
I've now been on this new diet round-a-bout since Jan 17. Finally, people are starting to notice the 6kg I've lost and an amount of centimetres. Is it worth it? If I can fit into that whole wardrobe of clothes I have that do not fit - some of which I have never worn (yes, I'm guilty of that too) then it will be. I actually feel good but will it last?????

C is for .... chocolate

2011-03-03T10:07:00.000+08:00

My name is LA Dale and I am a chocoholic.
Chocolate is a food group for me and a very specific one. You see, in my place of addiction, there are only certain types of chocolate which are acceptable - Cadbury's, Nestle, Red Tulip (at Easter) and Lindt. On the odd occasion those expensive handmade chocolates will also pass my lips. I hate those disgusting praline shells - what an insult to inject chocolate with that revolting mush - and I could happily live on a diet of Cadbury's peppermint chocolate. I could devour a whole family block by myself and think nothing of it as long as it was backed up by a nice iced chocolate. You see, my chocolate fetish also extends to foods with chocolate in them - icecream, mudcake, muffins, slice, chocolate coated licorice. Anything really except - bizarrely - hot chocolate because I hate the smell.
I confess that last Easter, and probably the Easter before and so on, I went to the Supermarket on the pretext of buying Easter Eggs for the family. Having loaded the basket with one giant Red Tulip bunny and one giant egg per person plus a stash of mini Cadbury eggs for the hunt, I was hit by an ingenious plan. If I bought extra, no one would know it was for me and I could just go home and eat the surplus. Which I did. Every week until Easter. I had to cover up the fact though by buying replacements in multiples. It made it look like I was buying gifts not just snacks. (well, it did in my mind)
I also confess that I regularly dish out the dessert, making sure I get the portion with the most chocolate. I don't know if the family has sussed me on this yet but they must be a wake up when their serving of chocolate overload ice cream contains only one chunk of chocolate.
I admit that in the past, I have bought the children chocolate treats merely because I wanted them myself, not because they did.
I also admit that in an effort to hide my addiction I have taken to eating chocolate bars on the way home from the supermarket and throwing the receipt in the bin so my husband wont see it.
I have learnt to control this addiction, but chocolate is a problem for me. I know. Is it any wonder I'm always on a diet?

B is for .... Bella

2011-03-02T08:29:00.000+08:00

I used to think Bella was a lovely name. So much so that I named the main character of my first book Heart of Glass Bella. To me, Bella was a strong girl's name, a girl who knew her own mind, stood up for herself and was still girlie at the same time. I had never heard of Twilight or Bella Swan.
Then I put my book out there on Authonomy - a great website for authors - and something happened. I started getting comments from people asking had I copied Stephanie Meyer? Did I mean for my Bella to have the same name as the Twilight star? Was I trying to cash in? So just to clarify.... NO. I DID NOT. I WAS NOT. Heart of Glass was written at least a year before Twilight appeared on shelves and probably a good two years before I'd even heard of it. Yes, it is a story about first love with problems but my story deals with teenage sex and drugs and what happens when you lose control. It carries on into the character's twenties and shows the consequences of such behaviour. It is a story about true love though I never intended it to be anything like Twilight and frankly, I like my Bella way better than Bella Swan.
My Bella has balls. She makes mistakes - some of which are very big. And she's real. Yes, I know Twilight has a cult following and I can own up to having read the entire series and even enjoying the first book but Bella Swan annoyed the crap out of me for the entire thing. She was a teenager for God's sake, filled with raging hormones, if she was normal. How can anyone tell me all she ever did was hold hands and kiss? For three books? Please. Most teenagers I've had dealings with are trying to find ways to get into each others pants at that age. I just wanted to strangle Bella Swan and tell her to run off into the forest with Edward and get it done. Her faux innocence did nothing for me.
Now, I know all the Twilight Fans are probably going to want to stab me with a silver dagger or something but, hey, we're all entitled to an opinion. Everyone likes different things. Would I consider changing my Bella's name? No, I would not. I love her the way she is. And on a final note, the people who lived over the road named their labrador Bella too.

A is for ....Angels

2011-03-01T12:29:00.001+08:00

Today being the first of March, I've set myself a new writing challenge (as if I dont have enough challenges already). I've decided to try and do a blog post every day of this month relating to letters of the Alphabet. Some may be related to my writing, some may be short stories and some could be that drivel that you seem to love so much.
So here's my first post.

A is for Angel
I tend to be quite picky when it come to the Paranormal genre. Some of it is brilliant and some utter crap. There are tv shows that really grab me like Supernatural, True Blood and The Vampire Diaries when Stefan isnt being a whiny anorexic idiot. There are books that I have on my list of faves... like any by Anne Rice and some by Zoe Winters and Charlaine Harris. I've suffered through the agony of the Twilight Saga (and believe me it was a saga for me, I had to miss all but the dialogue for the last 150 pages so I could make it to the end, I was so bored with Bella) I've delved into vamps, werewolves, werecats and witches. But I've never really been into angels. Until now.
So why choose to write a paranormal romance about an Angel? How the hell would I know. But I fully blame Amanda Hocking. I just finished reading her book My Blood Approves (yes I know it's about vamps. duh.) and it came to me while reading that I'd like to delve into the genre myself and maybe whip up a little story about a girl and an angel.
Little it is no longer. I've researched for days, I've learnt about Archangels, seraphim, cherubim, fallen angels etc etc etc. Now I am utterly addicted and the little story has made a journey into a freaking trilogy, complete with fallen angels, marks of Lucifer and blessed swords.
God help me. I'm a chick lit writer. I'm still scarred from being subjected to watching Michael Landon wandering around like a soppy lost soul in Highway to Heaven during the 80's. I don't do things that zoom around with wings and can't have a photo taken. Do I?

Shopping in Bali- Risking Life and Limb

2011-02-26T13:49:00.000+08:00

Seriously, what else does a girl go to Bali for if it's not the ultra cheap shopping and gazillions of little crappy markets all selling the same crappy things?

On our first morning in Bali, we walked along to the local Nusa Dua market. Not unlike their big brother market in Kuta, the ND Market is filled with treasures, most of which you would never be seen dead wearing or owning and those that you do feel compelled to buy can never be brought back into Australia because they're riddled with itsy bitsy bugs. The clothing can never be washed. Washing causes shrinkage that turns cute batik into Daywear for Bratz Dolls. The sandals, while adorable, provide a couple of months wear if you're lucky. Still what can you expect for four bucks? Armed with this knowledge, and a Bali virgin who was among our party, we set off to the market for a morning of bartering.

Our first stop, on the right hand side of the road, was met with cries from the other side of the street, "Oh, Madam," they cried. "Why you not come here? I give you good price. I give manicure, pedicure." They rushed across the road to prove it waving painted fingers and bottles of varnish, nearly taking out my eye. It was a bit early for me but I managed to politely decline.

We looked at some batik dresses, which I did not want to buy, got involved in haggling for said dresses and I ended up with the 'discount morning price' of 45 000 rp. That's about $5. Yes, I knew I would never wear it after the trip but it was $5! I couldn't say no. Our virgin friend lost her virginity over a 'hand carved' wooden box which she later found in a shop at The Bali Collection filled with teabags for a cheaper price. It was all good fun though, and gave the locals a bit of cash during the non-tourist season.

Our next venture, was into Kuta itself. This proved to be somewhat more dangerous as we were the only tourists in sight and were accosted on every corner by hordes of men selling tacky jewellery. They seemed to run in packs and surrounded us, not allowing us to leave until we parted with some money. Luckily, we were able to resist that lure.... mostly because they kept trying to talk to us in bad Australian accents. I have no idea what bogan Australians taught these lovely people to say 'g'day mate' 'bloody good' and 'aussie aussie aussie' and let them think that we all talk like that but if I ever meet him, I may rip his head off. I am not a bogan. I do not want a Bintang singlet, not even if it is made in pink for girls, thank you, and under no circumstances will madam ever be getting her hair braided. I am not ten. A fact that they did not want to understand.

Princess, however, had more luck. She bought a cute watch, got round the corner and saw a stall selling even cuter ones and convinced the shop owner to do a swap with a cash sum involved. Big G haggled for 5 pairs of undies and got told he was mean and our Bali virgin bought some cute tops after being told she was 'pretty, but very hard to work with.' All this, of course, was only the warm up for the real test.

The next morning we went on a car trip. First stop, a jewellery shop where they hand craft absolutely gorgeous things from quality silver and gold. All was going well until I saw a silver and blue topaz (my birthstone) bracelet. I liked it but not enough to pay the final price of $70USD and went to leave. The woman chased me. She hopped in the car and practically begged to join our family. It was very awkward. After that, our guide told us to just say 'NO GO AWAY' which I think is the polite way of saying "piss off" in Indonesian.

Not that it did much good. When we got to the top of the mountain a few hours later, we hopped out to admire the view. And in an instant those ladies popped out from somewhere ( I think they had been clinging to the chassis of the car) and it started all over again. Only this time it was disgusting beads that they tried to shove up my nose. I kid you not. If they had been any closer, I could have snorted them. "You buy, $2."

"No thank you."

"3 for $2?"

"No. Thank you." I edged closer to the side of a very long sheer drop. The woman had me cornered. I either had to buy or she was going to push me one more inch and I would literally be falling off a cliff.

"What price you want?" She asked, as she was joined by a man selling hideous wooden carvings. "NONE. GO AWAY!!" This was polite code for f*** off.

Luckily, I was saved by Big G who pulled me into our car only to find that another woman had got in the door on the other side and was trying to sell my son frangipani hair clips. I know he has long hair, but seriously?

Needless to say I survived this onslaught until the last night. Back in Kuta, I let my guard down for thirty seconds and what happened? I ended up with a hot pink 'manicure' complete with daises on each finger. Oh well, at least it wasn't permanent.

PS: I did get some exquisite hand made knee length boots for winter, made especially to fit my foot with the heel I wanted. And all for $90. Thank you Joe, leather man. I love them xxx

I've Been to Bali Too...

2011-02-17T10:14:00.001+08:00

Any one who knows our family knows that family trips are never without incidents. Usually massive ones. During our first trip to Bali a rather large bomb went off while we were dining around the corner. Thank God, Big G had been suffering from an acute case of Bali Belly -that resulted in a visit from an Indonesian nurse wearing a Benny Hill nurse's outfit and carrying a big needle for his bum- or we may have been closer. Sort of put a damper on things, though. It wasn't nice that innocent people died. For another holiday we went snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef .... around the time two tourists were left behind in the ocean. It's a long swim back to Cairns, let me tell you. Then of course, there was the time we went to Vanuatu and they had an uprising that overthrew the Government and the time we drove across the Nullaboor Plain, clearly being stalked by a man-eating white pointer who ate swimmers in very town we had been to, finally having his dessert as we reached Perth. And guess where our next holiday is? Egypt. I'm not joking. Its been booked for months.
Anyway, back to Bali. Things began in typical fashion. Badly. The travel agent rang to inform us that the 5pm flights into Bali had been cancelled and we were now on the 7am flight. Not happy that we had to get up at 4am to get the the airport - I dont do early mornings well - I comforted myself with the fact that we would have a whole day more when we arrived.
We got to the airport, waited to check in for an hour and were then told the flight had been delayed because the plane was broken. They took our bags, gave us some crap free food vouchers and told us to come back at 3pm for the 5pm flight. Yes, the original flight that had been cancelled was now back on. Annoyed that the extra day we'd found had been lost again and we were back to where we started, we went home.
At 3pm we got back to the Airport to find our bags sitting in the middle of the check in area. After 20 minutes of waiting, we found out the flight had been cancelled completely which put me in a very bad mood indeed. I had only just recovered from sending rude emails to the builder about the non-progress of our new home, I was in no mood to be told my flight was off. We stood around with all the other people, who were clearly in the dark about the whole thing like us, then after another twenty minutes we were told that we could come back in the morning for the 7am flight or pay an extra $300 per person and hopefully get on an Air Asia flight. The money would be reimbursed after our holiday. Needless to say, a lot of people cant afford to fork out that amount of money so they went home - which funnily enough was the airline's intention, I think. I don't think they had enough room to fit us all onto the Air Asia flight. We, however, stayed. Ate more crap food. Transferred the $1500 into an account to pay for the flights and waited.
After waiting for another hour or so, I discovered that Virgin Pacific had a flight leaving at 6pm and it was $50 cheaper. I wanted to transfer our flights to them but after a long winded discussion with a very rude woman from our airline, I was told that we could do that but we would not be reimbursed. So we went back to waiting.
Then it was time to check in. Again. We stood in a line like sheep for a whole hour, watching the people who were actually booked on the flight go through first. There were 60 of us and two counters at opposite ends of the check in. There were 10 of them and 4 counters. Service staff took our names and ran to the other end with a hand written list to check us off against another hand written list. It was like watching a Japanese game show and sort of gave you the feeling that they didnt want us there. Or maybe they just had no freakin' clue? Finally, we got the the front and were told to wait 'over there' for seat allocation. I'm still not entirely sure where 'over there' was but we waited and after 15 minutes were called up. When we got to the desk, our names no longer existed because apparently we could only check in in groups of 9 or 7 or something and 2 people had jumped the cue and morphed into dragons to fly to Bali under their own steam with their suitcases between their teeth. Sorry, that didnt really happen, but it was so ridiculous, us all standing around not knowing if we could go up to the counter and being called and un-called, I really felt a little hysterical.
So, after this marathon, we finally get seats on the plane. I pull out my wallet to pay and am told that we dont have to pay anymore. It's all been taken care of. Which only added fuel to my theory that they wanted to weed out a few people because the plane was nearly full. It worked.
The plane took off late, we got to Bali and it was pissing down and 1.30am. We had been up for nearly 24 hours. We were very tired and the last thing we wanted was to get accosted by those bloody porters at the airport who just want money and ran away with Princess's bags until she gave them some.
But apart from that, we had a lovely time.

The Time Has Come

2011-02-04T09:35:00.000+08:00

Prepare yourself Bali, in two more sleeps my chubby white body will be descending onto your beaches and it won't be a pretty sight. Of course, I won't look exactly like the beautiful woman on the right because this woman is topless and I won't be. I haven't done that since trying to impress Big G back in the days before gravity took over. Also, since the Personal Torture began, sorry I meant training, I am thinner. Just ask Mel - my trainer- she has measured my boobs. She will attest to the fact that despite my whining she has helped me lose 4cm off the chest area and quite a few from other body parts so far. She has also managed to awaken muscles that have been dormant for some years. And they are not happy about this.

So, 3.5 kg and a few centimetres thinner all over, not to mention way fitter, I am off to buy a new pair of bathers for my trip. Main prerequisite - they can't me look any more of a whale than I am.

I enter the swanky bathers shop. I look around for those that are flattering to my shape and age and bemoan the fact that I am no longer twenty and even if I had the body I had when I was twenty, I still couldn't wear that cute white bikini with the cherry print and red frills. Not even in the fifties style which I absolutely love.

Why? One word girls - well two. Mutton and Lamb. Others may do it but I will not be mutton dressed up as lamb. Yes, I have reached the age where one easily becomes confused into thinking that we look good in that bikini or that dress. It's something to do with hormones, I think, or that fact that our eyesight is failing. I stand in the shop and hold it up and the age blinkers go on. It's so gorgeous, I think to myself, suddenly forgetting the fact that while I once looked good in that sort of thing, I am now over forty and have not had work like Demi Moore. I even contemplate trying it on. Luckily, I come to my senses in time. Imagine the disaster of actually buying and wearing it? I could see the twenty year old me. Others however, see only the face above the body and say "Oh my God, what is that granny thinking?"

So, I chose a few more appropriate styles and go into the change room. This in itself is a traumatic experience as I usually try to avoid looking below my neck in a mirror and now I'm going to have to look at my entire body. I slip into the first suit - a navy and white polka dot - and have just come to terms with the fact that the cellulite on the back of my legs has almost reached my knees when the curtain whips back and the sales assistant - otherwise known as The Biggest Liar - cries "How's it going in here? Oh my God, you look adorable. That suit really flatters you."

Aside from that fact that I am now half naked in front of a shop full of very underfed Subiaco women, this scenario is wrong on so many levels.

a) I am too old to be adorable though I would love to be.

b) My arse is still the size of the Titanic and the only thing good about the Titanic was that Jack and Rose had sex in the back of a car and it was a fab movie.

c) Flattering is the wrong choice of word when being uttered by an anorexic teenager who looks good in anything.

d) It did not look flattering. The 'soft gathers' at the waist made me look like even more of a heifer.

Stunned, I think I may have muttered something along those lines before pulling the curtain shut in her face. In what world did she ever think it would be appropriate to expose my Casper-white bum to the world? Just because she probably prances around the house in her knickers, doesn't mean we all do.

The second suit is equally as bad. I look like a cow. A candy striped cow. But three try ons later, we hit the jackpot. Literally. A delightfully 'flattering' boy leg and halter top that cover both arse and tummy with the added bonus of boob lift and tummy flattening technology. Unfortunately, the price tag of this item is not so flattering. It appears you have to pay a lot in the name of turning back time.

Maybe I could look into that while I'm in Bali?

And the winner is.....

2011-02-03T14:02:00.000+08:00

Sorry about the delay posting giveaway winners! I have no excuse other than well... nothing.
Thank you to all the lovely people who bought copies of Heart of Glass or Perhaps... Perhaps during the month of January and special congrats and hugs to the following winners, who have now all been notified by email.
Rebecca B, Rebecca C, Vanessa B, Lisa M, Carolyn Mc, Claire H, Nadia N, Lynne F, Rhonda W, Jenny S, Sheree S, Kylie T, Paola R, Sharon W, Tina R, Fiona D, Emma H, Vickie W, Donna C, Maree G.

I hope you all enjoy your prizes and thanks again for joining the fun.

Last Day for Giveaway

2011-01-30T11:33:00.000+08:00

Don't usually post on Sundays as I have important things to do like sitting around in my underwear reading the papers but just thought I should send you out a quick reminder. Today is the last day to get your entries in for the book giveaway.
If you've bought (or are going to buy today) a copy of Perhaps... Perhaps or Heart of Glass during January all you have to do is send me a copy of your receipt to glrahn@gmail.com and you'll be entered in the draw to win a copy of the other book in the same format. so, if you bought a kindle book - you'll win a kindle book. If you bought a paper copy you'll win a paper copy.
If you're still intending on buying today, you can find links on the books page. The ebooks are down to .99c on Smashwords now so buy away!!
Entries must reach my inbox by the time I open it on 1st Feb and then I'll announce the winners on the blog and be in touch with you on Tuesday.
Good luck!