LIZ FIELDING

ANOTHER PRIZE WINNER, ANOTHER VERY SPECIAL GUEST

First, many thanks to Melissa McClone for being such a star guest last week. The winner of her Wedding Planners book is Mulberry, so if you’ll get in touch with your snail mail addy, Mulberry at liz @lizfielding.com, your prize will be in the post asap.

My guest this week is a very special friend. Kate Walker is one of those women who light up the room the minute she walks through the door. The greeting is always the same. A huge hug for me, a bigger one for the dh and a smile as wide as her face. Interesting that Kate says she was a little bit afraid of me. I can remember walking into a meeting, feeling a bit out of my depth amongst such well known names and it was Kate who spoke first, said, “Hi Liz” with a good-to-see-you-here welcome, that made me feel as if I actually belonged.

Kate is what can only be described as a “people” person. Her energy seems boundless. No matter how busy, how stretched on her own deadline rack, she’s always ready with a supportive, reassuring email that will lift the flagging spirits on those days, weeks, months, when the writing is not going well. Always there with her good advice.

So many now-published authors have reason to be grateful for her advice and her 12 Point Guide to Writing Romance is now a standard work, a must read for anyone who aspires to understand the requirements of such a demanding genre.

Then, of course, there are her books -- more than 50 of them now. Full of passion, full of those fabulous Mediterranean heroes and the feisty heroines who match them every step of the way. Real take-me-away-from-all-this reads, a treat after a tough day when there is only football on the television. (Go Holland!)

Go Kate...

I love celebrations. Specially when they mean I can get to celebrate things that I really value, with friends who are important to me.

So joining Liz to celebrate her 50th title is a real thrill for me because it includes all those things in one. I’m so happy to be cheering for Liz’s 50th title because it’s such a fantastic achievement, and Liz is such a very special lady that celebrating with her is a real pleasure - plus I have to say that I've read that 50th 'golden' book (The Bride's Baby) and I just loved it. I fell hard for Tom when he appeared here on Liz's blog for our joint 'Here Come the Grooms' Contest that we run annually with Anne McAllister and I just loved his story. So many many Congratulations to you Liz - thank you for 50 wonderful books. And here's to 50 more! (You can manage that can't you?)

As many of you will know, I celebrated this particular milestone myself last year so I have a special appreciation of just how much it takes to get there. And of course Liz has managed to collect one or two awards along the way . . . a couple of RITAs, The RNA Romance Prize, The Romantic Times, Love and Laughter Career Award . . . (Phew! Kate fans herself, just thinking of them all!) which makes this special celebration all the more wonderful, particularly when it comes in this special centenary year for Mills & Boon.

So I suppose that right now is also a good time to look back a bit. Back over 100 years, 50 books . . . I have to admit that speaking personally I never thought I would see myself as I am today. I might have wished - but I didn't dare dream that it might happen. Way back when, when I was growing up and I used to say that I wanted to be a writer, then friends and family, and schoolteachers all shook their heads, usually laughing as they did so. I shouldn’t be so foolish as to dream of any such thing, they told me. It was all just a fantasy - something I should forget about and concentrate on getting a 'sensible' job instead. So I did that. I worked hard on my exams, got to university, trained to be a librarian. I worked as a Children's librarian too. I enjoyed it - it's one of the best jobs in the world. But it's not the best job. The dream job. The one I really dreamed of doing.

And I didn't give up on that dream.

Let's cut a long story short. Way back in 1984, I achieved the first part of that dream. I had my first book published. I thought that was the dream come true. That this was as good as it got. I was wrong. Each year just seems to keep getting better. Just this month, I've been to the opening of the Mills and Boon Centenary Exhibition in Manchester, I have a new book out in print form and - well, as I said on another blog I'm swamped by Spaniards. My latest book - Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife is being used to promote a new initiative with a company called Daily Lit who supply books in instalments, by email. I think the nationality of the hero in that is pretty obvious! Then a trilogy I wrote in 2003 called The Alcolar Family - about 2 Spanish brothers and their sister - is being republished both as an ebook bundle and a By Request print book complete in one volume here in the UK. Another Spaniard makes a reappearance in The Duke's Secret Wife as part of the special Centenary Collection to celebrate M&B's 100th birthday. And, guess what - the hero of the book I've just had accepted (Cordero's Forced Bride) is a sexy Spaniard too.

But while I'm swamped by Spaniards, I'm also celebrating the fact that they're all being published, or republished in this very special year, making it a very special year for me too. And most of all I'm celebrating the fact that I held on to that dream. That I never lost sight of it in spite of the lack of encouragement, the rejections when I first submitted. (Luckily there were only 2 of them!) So now I can celebrate too - celebrate how far I've come in fulfilling that dream - the one that nobody really believed I'd ever manage.

And even better, I can celebrate with wonderful friends. Friends I would never have made if I hadn't ventured into this world of writing romance and met other authors who shared this love of creating characters, making up stories and writing them down. That's how I came to meet Liz of course. (I'll tell you a secret here. At the beginning, I was really quite scared of Liz - well, not of Liz herself, but of her books. She writes so wonderfully - well, you know that, don't you? I used to read her books and think - 'I could never write like this!' And I was so much in awe of her writing that I was in awe of Liz too. But once I met her I realised what a lovely person she is too - a delight to be with. Just like her books really)

So now I'm here, celebrating - celebrating my books, and the way I confounded all those people who said I'd never achieve my dream. Celebrating Mills & Boon's 100th birthday, and all those wonderful books that I have coming out - all those Spaniards. But most of all I'm celebrating Liz's wonderful golden 50 books and the joy of having her in my life as a favourite author and as a friend. It doesn't get much better than that.

To give you a taste of one of those Spaniards appearing this month, here's an extract from the opening of Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife. (Sadly, at this stage, my hero and heroine, Raul and Alannah don't have too much to celebrate)


THE hands on the clock didn’t seem to have moved even once in all the time that she had been sitting here. Alannah could have sworn that every time she glanced up at the big white circle that hung on the green painted wall opposite then the big hand and the little hand were in exactly the same position as they had been the last time she had looked, making a mockery of the audible sound of the minutes ticking away.

She felt as if she had been here all afternoon – almost all her life. And yet time hardly seemed to have moved on from the moment she had arrived and taken her place in the rather worn armchair in the middle of the room.

From here she could watch the door. She could see the approach of anyone coming near through the clouded pane of glass, and be ready if the door should open and the man she was expecting appeared.

The man she was expecting? Dreading would be more like it, Alannah admitted to herself, green eyes clouding rapidly.

She shook her head so that the red-gold swathe of her hair tossed along her shoulders, straggling strands escaping from the black elasticated band into which she had confined it before leaving home that morning, and rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes in a vain attempt to drive away the weariness and apprehension that clutched at her.

She knew she looked pale and wan. The stress and sorrow of the past few days and drained every last drop of pink from her cheeks, tears had dimmed the brightness of her eyes, and the set of her fine features reflected the strain of the nightmare week she had just endured. The grey skirt she had pulled on together with a plain black, long-sleeved tee shirt, her mind too battered to even think of anything else, did nothing for her appearance. It took even more colour from her skin and left it looking lifeless and wan. And she hadn’t had either the time or the inclination to think about adding any artificial colour with a touch of makeup before she had left her flat. The need to know that her mother was settled at her aunt’s house, heavily sedated because of the shock, had been much more important than any personal grooming.

Still, what did that matter? The man she was here to see wouldn’t give a damn about her appearance or how she was dressed. He wouldn’t want to see her here in the first place and he’d be even less happy about it when he heard what she had to say.

‘Of course Mr Marcín . . .’

A sudden bustle in the corridor beyond the door alerted her, the sound of the all-too-familiar name confirming her suspicions. Not that she’d needed them confirmed. Whenever and wherever Raul Marcín appeared, it seemed that instantly everything was bustle and activity. Even the air around him appeared enlivened, stirring and swirling in a way that left other more ordinary humans catching their breath in the suddenly rarefied atmosphere.

Once she had been part of that atmosphere, carried along on the tidal wave of energy and power that Don Raul Esteban Marquez de Marcín created as he strode through life, arrogant dark head held high, golden eyes blazing. But not any more. Not since she had fled that world and all it brought with it.
And she was well out of it.

It was a world of power and money, yes – but there had also been cold deceit and even icier hearted manipulation. Don Raul Marcín took what he wanted from people - from women – and used them to fulfil his own desires, without a thought for their feelings. He’d done that to her. And he would have discarded her too, she had no doubt. He would have tossed her aside when the purpose she had served was finished – done with. But luckily for her vulnerable heart and before the foolish emotions she had allowed herself to feel had become so deeply embedded in her spirit that she could have had no hope of ever tearing them out by the roots, she had discovered the truth about their relationship. And that truth had set her free. Making her run as far and as fast as she could, never looking back, and never wanting to see Raul Marcín ever again.

Which was how she would have wanted it to stay. Except that now she had no choice. None at all. She had to face Raul Marcín once again. Face him and tell him things she had no doubt that he did not want to hear.

So that’s why I’m celebrating today. And we all know why Liz is celebrating – but what are you celebrating this year? It can be anything – big or small. The fact that you’ve won a million on the lottery – or just the fact that the sun is shining today.

Let’s share some of the good news .

I have a signed copy of Spanish Billionare, Innocent Wife to give away to someone who posts some lovely good news, a cause for celebration, in the Comments section.

And as I just received my own copies of The Duke’s Secret Wife, I’ll slip one of those into the package too – after all, we’re celebrating, aren’t we?

Thanks so much, Kate! I've already read the book, so I know just how great it is, so dive in for a chance to win a copy and good luck!