And so it's July(or almost August) - and so it has been another two months since I have updated this blog. Seems I live on Twitter these days, when I'm not writing, or editing, or working or being a mammy to the two little ones.
And... worse than that, I've had an awful dose of "weemin's problems"... or at least we think they are weemin's problems. I don't quite have a diagnosis yet but there has been much lying prone in bed, mainlining tramadol and co-cocodamol and feeling immensely sorry for myself. It's strange but feeling physically sick has made me much more miserable than the 'horrors' - perhaps because with the 'horrors' I know what it is...
All these things aside, much is happening book wise. If Only You Knew has been just been released in paperback with a lovely lilac cover and a quote from Anna McPartlin, whom I love madly. All my books are now available to download on Kindle (Yay!!!) and I've been editing the very life out of 'What Becomes of the Broken Hearted' set for a late August release. Have I shown you the cover? It's stunning?
And the book is just so special...(of course I would say that, but really, it is... one for anyone whose heart has ever been broken at all).
In fact, thanks to the lovely people at Poolbeg, the book has now gone out to the media for review. This is a SCARY time. And I just hope they love it, because I genuinely do adore it. Below is the little pack Poolbeg sent out, with an invite (the book is set around a wedding dress shop) and little wedding favours and everything. I'm jealous they've not sent me a pack and a proof copy... I would enjoy that....
I am also working on book 7 - which has no title as yet, but the two main characters have names and the plot is coming to life so all is not lost. I'm fast reaching that obsessional about it stage where I cannot sleep at night without plotting scenes and dialogue and all sorts. This is actually a good stage - it's a brilliant stage to be fair. For the last few months I have eeked out a few words here and there and genuinely panicked that the well might be empty and seven books in was probably time enough to call it quits. I feared that having those nights of talking to myself as I drifted off to sleep would never arrive and that scared me. Writing has been such a huge part of my life for seven years now so that being without it would leave me a little bereft.
What I think I perhaps actually did was just give up on it for a bit... purposely made a point of not thinking about it and then all my lovely characters decided to have other ideas. So I am welcoming the glorious schizophrenia of writing with open arms.
Book seven has a central theme of homecomings about it - and finding the true meaning of where home is, although I've yet to think of a name.
Outside of writing and weemin's problems I have also agreed to let me children get a cat. This may come back to haunt me and you can expect a traumatised post soon.
With What Becomes due for imminent release (circa September 2) I will be posting an opening snippet soon. Watch this space.