LIZ FIELDING

BARBARA HANNAY

My guest this week is the stellar, Rita winning, Harlequin Romance author Barbara Hannay.

I first met Barbara and her husband at the RWA National Conference in New York at the annual Harlequin Mills & Boon "pizza" party which has become a highlight for authors attending from all over the globe. We went to a real New York pizza parlour -- Barbara, Sandra Marton, Trish Morey, Emma Darcy, Barbara McMahon, Jane Porter, Susan Stephens, Lillian Darcy are the names that instantly spring to mind. There were more...

Then, a couple of years ago, I was thrilled to collaborate with Barbara (and Jackie Braun) on the trilogy, Secrets We Keep -- this is Barbara's book. Working together was tremendous fun and I hope that one day, in the not too distant future, we'll have the chance to do something like it again.

Barb, tell us about your latest book!

Thank you so much for inviting me to join you here, Liz. It’s fabulous to be celebrating your fiftieth book!!!! I want to start with a huge thank you for the many hours of happy reading you’ve given me. I always know that a Liz Fielding book will deliver a fascinating, gutsy heroine, a yummy hero, wonderful weepy moments and scrumptious words – put together magically, as only you can.

Although I’m about to start my thirtieth book, fifty still feels such a lo-o-o-ong way off. This is a true milestone, so – hip, hooray – I brought champagne!!

OK, so I’m also supposed to talk about my new book, Adopted: Outback Baby which I fondly refer to as my grandparent book. Yes, that’s right. The hero and heroine are grandparents. But before blog readers reel back in horror, I should make it clear that my hero and heroine are not geriatric. In fact, at thirty-nine, they’re still reassuringly sprightly.

This is an Old Flame story. When Nell and Jacob were nineteen, they were unjustly tricked/forced into giving their baby up for adoption, and now, twenty years later, they find themselves brought together by a twist of fate to care for their tiny grandson.

Of course they’ve changed a great deal in twenty years. Nell has been married and divorced. Jacob is no longer the poor son of Nell’s parents’ cook, and he’s become a successful, self-made man. But it can be nerve-wracking for a woman on the brink of forty to suddenly meet up with a boyfriend she knew when she was nineteen – shades of a bad dream of a high school reunion.

With every book I write, there seems to be a different “something” (my muse perchance?) that influences the tone of the book. Sometimes it’s a collage I’ve made; sometimes it’s a sound track. In this book, I had fun with a collage.

But details like Jacob’s humble past and the beautiful patchwork hangings that Nell now creates kept niggling in the back of my mind until suddenly I remembered why. These two elements come together in one of my favourite poems by William Butler Yeats. The poem became a kind of background theme for my story. Here it is:-

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread my cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams,
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

So this book is all about finally realizing those dreams, but first Nell and Jacob must face many hurdles – not the least of which, is working out how to care for a small baby. In this extract, they are driving and Sam is in his baby capsule on the back seat…

But they had hardly left Thornbury before Sam squirmed and pulled a face that made him look ridiculously like a very wrinkled, old man.

‘Sam’s looking unhappy,’ Nell announced nervously. ‘He’s squirming and moving.’

‘I should think he would want to move.’ Jacob smiled as he took off at a green light.

‘But he’s turning red.’ Nell didn’t want to be nervous, but she’d had next to no practical experience with babies. ‘I think he’s waking up.’

‘He has to wake some time.’

‘But he shouldn’t be waking now, should he? I thought babies were supposed to sleep in cars. Isn’t something about the motion supposed to make them sleepy?’

As she said this, a tiny squawk emitted from the back seat. Scant seconds later, it was followed by a much louder wail. Then a full-bodied squawk. And another.

Oh, help! Was Sam missing Jean already? What should she do? He looked so distressed and sounded so miserable.

Nell wondered if she should she ask Jacob to stop the car. They shouldn’t just drive on, callously letting the baby cry, should they? Twisting in her seat, she watched Sam’s small hand waving above him like a distress signal. She reached back and tried to catch it with her little finger.

‘There, there,’ she crooned as his fingers brushed the tips of hers. She dropped her hand lower and he clasped her little finger in a tight, tiny fist.

It was lovely to feel him clutching her, needing her. ‘You’re all right, little man, don’t cry.’ How relieved she would be if she could pacify him.

Sam’s wails grew stronger and louder, his face redder. He let go of her finger and his hand stiffened, fingers outstretched, imploring.

‘He can’t be hungry,’ she said. ‘Jean was quite certain that he doesn’t need a feed for another hour or more.’

‘Maybe it’s wind,’ Jacob suggested matter-of-factly.

How did he know about such things?

‘Perhaps we’d better stop and see what the problem is.’ Nell cast a doubtful eye over the busy lanes of traffic.

Jacob lifted his voice over Sam’s cries. ‘The Botanic Gardens aren’t far away. How about I head over there? At least it will get us out of this traffic.’

‘Yes!’ Nell nodded gratefully. ‘That’s a good idea.’

Sam cries were ear-splitting by the time they pulled into the car park at the Royal Botanic Gardens. People getting into a car nearby turned to stare at them.

Nell flew out of her seat and fumbled with the straps binding Sam into his carrier. ‘What’s the matter, little man?’

Lifting him up, she felt his little body go rigid in her arms. It was like trying to cuddle a brick. A screaming brick. Nell tucked a muslin wrap around him and joggled him gently against her shoulder. She patted his back, and when he didn’t calm down, she felt a shaft of real panic. She knew babies cried, but she’d never heard one as upset as this.

What was wrong with him? He’d been fed, his nappy was dry. He couldn’t have developed a dreadful disease in the short time since they’d left the Browne’s.
What if she couldn’t calm him?

Jacob joined her and she shot him a frantic glance. He smiled, but she knew he must be thinking that her mothering skills were sub-zero.

‘Why don’t we take him for a walk,’ he suggested.

‘A walk? When he’s screaming? Do you think it would help?’

‘It’s worth a try. You never know, it might soothe him.’

Nell directed a doubtful glare at the sweeping lawns, the majestic elms and oaks and the path circling the ornamental lake. The rain had finished soon after breakfast and it was a lovely summer’s day. Melbournians were out in force, enjoying their favourite parkland – joggers and parents pushing prams, toddlers entranced by the teeming birdlife – lots of babies, lots of small children. Only Sam was screaming.
Jacob didn’t seem perturbed by the baby’s uproar. He threw a protective arm around Nell’s shoulders and she felt absurdly grateful for his reassuring presence. He clicked the remote control to lock the car doors and they began to walk, their footsteps in time as they crossed the gravelled car park to the walking path.
Sam kept yelling, but Jacob talked anyway.

‘These gardens are my favourite part of Melbourne,’ he said as the path led them down the slope towards the water.

‘Let me guess – because it’s full of trees and wide open spaces?’

‘Absolutely. Being here is the next best thing to being in the bush.’

It was a not-so-subtle reminder. ‘But parks are supposed to be tranquil places. Sam’s disturbing the peace.’

‘He’s a tiny baby, Nell.’

She sighed. ‘I know.’ She gave Sam’s back a firmer pat and hitched him higher on her shoulder. Almost immediately, he let out a huge burp.

And stopped crying.

‘Goodness.’ Nell lifted him away from her, so that she could look at him. ‘Was that the problem?’

In the sunlight, Sam’s fine hair was lit with gold. His blue eyes were still shiny with tears trembling on the end of sinfully dark lashes. He was staring at her with a look that suggested he was almost as surprised as she was that he’d stopped crying. He was absolutely gorgeous!

Nell smiled at Jacob. ‘You were right. But how did you know he had wind?’

‘I must have an acute understanding of infants.’

She wasn’t buying that. ‘Or you made a lucky guess.’

Grinning widely, he snapped his fingers. ‘Sprung.’

Nell laughed. And then she was instantly sobered by the realisation that this was the first time she’d laughed in ages.

Ages.

So… do you have stories about looking after a baby – the nerves, the fears, the funny moments?? Was it all plain sailing? Tell me your baby stories for a chance to win a copy of Adopted: Outback Baby.

If you can't wait, the book is available to buy here at Amazon or at Mills and Boon or Mills and Boon, Australia