BLOG PARTY - THE RECOVERY!

Good morning!  How are you all feeling!

I don't know about you but I need a long glass of orange juice to pick me up after a week of partying.

There's still some fun to be had - and the butlers are all still on hand to cater to your every whim, so do keep them busy!

Meanwhile, I'll say a huge thank to all the friends who dropped by to help me celebrate this week.  You have all been stars.

And here is a round up of all books winners - including the last two days, so if you haven't got in touch with addresses and so forth, well, call up one of the butlers and get them to send an email now.  (They all take dictation very well!)

Here's the list -

Nicola Marsh - Morton
Jessica Hart - Roz and Sheree
Anna Campbell - Nell, Jenny Swartz and Jane O'Reilly
Kate Walker - Tammy and Raven
Lesley Cookman - Tammy and Nas
Ally Blake - Helen
Sophie Page - Alexandra
Christine Stovell - Teresa Morgan
Nell Dixon - ChrisCross
Donna Alward - Stevie
Jan Jones - Michele L
Phillipa - Wendy McD
Kate Hardy - Stevie
Soraya Lane - Helen

You can send your details to me at liz at lizfielding dot com and I'll pass them on to the lovely authors who donated these door prizes.

Now, a party to celebrate my career wouldn't be a party without a prize from the host.  So, what will it be?

One of my books, I think for everyone who visited me this week, including the authors.  (Tough on Kate Hardy, who has read them all, but I will think of something...)

leave a note in the comment column saying which one you'd like (and whether paper or eBook) and I'll try and sort you out a copy  I don't have spares of some of the early books, although quite a few are available now as eBooks - with more on the way very shortly.

In the meantime, while you tuck into breakfast, I'll introduce the hero of my 60th book, FLIRTING WITH ITALIAN - Matteo di Serrone, who is discovering that a cool English rose can be more of a handful than he bargained for.

Here's a little taster...

‘Out.  Now,’ he said.

     Sarah looked back helplessly at the mess, but he headed for the door and she barely had time to scoop up her bag and cardigan before they were through it and heading down the stairs.    

     ‘Where are we going?’ she gasped, as they burst into the warm evening and, as if coming to his senses, he finally let her go.  Pushed his hands deep into his pockets.

     ‘Anywhere.  Nowhere.  Just out.’  He glanced at her as they headed down the cobbled hill.  ‘Did I hurt you?’

     ‘No.’

     He stopped, looked at her.

     ‘No,’ she repeated, with a gesture that was pure Roman.  ‘I’m not being “nice”, Matteo,’ she said, walking on, leaving him to follow.                                

    ‘I believe you,’ he said, falling in beside her.  ‘Nice girls don’t kiss like that.’  He rubbed at his lower lip.  Smiled a touch ruefully.  ‘You bit me.’

     She’d bitten him?

    He was right.  She didn’t kiss like that.  At least she hadn’t until now.  But then she’d never felt like that.  Been so completely out of control.  

     ‘Do you expect me to apologise?’ she asked.

     ‘I wasn’t complaining.’  He glanced at her.  ‘Do you want me to?’

     ‘Complain?’ she said, choosing to misunderstand. 

     ‘Apologise.’

     Her turn to stop.  ‘No, Matteo.’  She was free, unencumbered by any responsibilities except to herself.  ‘I don’t want anything from you that you can’t give me naked.’

     ‘Let’s go back…’

     ‘I want a lover,’ she said.  ‘A man who will make memories to keep me warm when I’m old.  Memories that will shock my grandchildren.  Make me smile when I’m dying.’

     ‘We should definitely go back…’

     She was trying to be cool, but he had this way of getting beneath her skin and she was fighting a losing battle against a smile.  Who wouldn’t want a man who couldn’t trust himself alone in a room with her? 

     Any woman would smile.

     ‘No, you’re fine,’ she said.  ‘You’ve already passed the physical-’

     He practically choked.                                   

     ‘You are outrageous.’

     ‘Am I?’  He was right, she was.  Tom would not have recognised her.  She scarcely recognised herself.  ‘It’s your bad influence.  You are turning me into a diva.’

     ‘I admit only to liberating the diva within.  A role you appear to have taken to with genuine enthusiasm.’

     She looked at him sideways from beneath her lashes.  ‘If I’m shocking you, you can withdraw at any time.’ 

     ‘That, amore mio, is an offer you may live to regret,’ he said, not bothering to hide his amusement as she blushed.

     A woman, a diva, interviewing a potential lover did not blush.

Does November seem a long way off?  It'll be here before we know it and I have book # 61 to write before then.  

In the meantime, if you haven't yet downloaded a copy of WILD JUSTICE, it's free, for a very short while, at Amazon.  There's a link on the sidebar.

Thanks, all of you for being such fun this week.  It's been a blast.  And before you go - don't forget to tell me what book you'd like!