THE BOOK HAS LEFT THE BUILDING...
It's been tough, this one. Nose to the grindstone stuff, and it's going to be that way all year if I'm going to fit in everything I'm contracted to do. But the purple shoe book was finally delivered to the waiting arms of my editor at around four o'clock yesterday afternoon. Since when I've been curled up in a huddled gibbering mass in the corner. (I really shouldn't have taken on the eHarlequin blog -- lesson learned. The books come first!)
I have to thank Ellie and Ben for holding the fort in my absence. I've just waved them off on their long promised trip to Italy (Laura is pet-sitting while they're away). Now it's time to introduce you to Sylvie and Tom, whose story has given me such a lot of bother in the last couple of months.
They've both come through some rough times, made successes of their lives, but are lacking that special ingredient that makes the world a bright and shiny place. Someone to share it with. Tom thought it had found exactly what he was looking for. When the book opens, it's all gone pear-shaped. His bride to be has taken to the hills with the wedding planner's assistant. And the wedding planner gets the full force of his ... irritation.
I don't have a title yet, but as soon as my editor has read the book, and I've ducked the flying revisions, I'll let you know what she comes up with. I can tell you that it will have a "Spring Wedding" or maybe "Spring Bride" flash -- so somewhere out there authors are battling with "Summer", "Autumn" and "Winter" -- and it'll be in the bookshops next April or May.
I should be able to put my feet up and take the day off -- you need time to wind down from a tight deadline -- but I have a journalist from the South West Evening Post arriving just after ten to ask me about "commitment" post the HEA, so I have to race around doing all the housework that's been neglected during the last week.
Then there are my accounts. And on Monday, I have to start actually writing The Sheikh novella. Not planning -- I don't have time to plan; there is no thinking time. I have to actually writing if I'm going to make the deadline for the next one. So, short of a visit from the plot fairy, if there's anyone out there who's ever asked me where I get my ideas from -- now would be a good time to remind me what I said.