Mash Up Monday

Lots of good stuff out there right now-

Nina Harrington is running a fabulous giveaway on her blog - six great books to enhance your productivity including The Tools of the Titans. Click here for more.

According to Kate Hardy, today is the International Day of Happiness, which has to be a good thing. Do something to make yourself smile.

Scarlet Wilson won the RoNA Rose award presented by Prue Leith at the Romantic Novelists Association Awards Reception last week with

All these great women write for "Harlequin Romance" - these are the March releases.

A cracking day out...

This blog is mostly pictures, because that's all you really need. On Saturday, our local chapter of the Romantic Novelists' Association went to Ashdown House.

It was a stunningly beautiful day. Clear blue sky, warm with a light breeze. We had one of our own, historical author, Nicola Cornick, as a guide and she gave us all the gossip, all the romance, all the history. (This house was built for love of a queen - sadly she died before it was completed.)

We climbed the fabulous staircase to the roof as had the ladies in the 17th century (they went to watch Rupert of the Rhine and Charles II hunting across the amazing landscape - we enjoyed the view, and a glimpse of a deer).

Then Nicola took us home to tea in on of those English villages you see on chocolate box lids. Thatched cottages, roses around the door. We sat in the garden, ate fabulous cake (made by her lovely husband) and were made a fuss of by Rochester, the puppy she is walking for the Guide Dog Association.

A cracking day out.

LOVE MY JOB

It's my pleasure to welcome fellow member of the Romantic Novelists' Association, Sue Moorcroft as my guest today.

Sue has written a handful of novels, including All That Mullarkey, at present on my Kindle tbr list. She is also a creative writing tutor and has written Love Writing, everything you need to know about writing romantic and erotic fiction (perfect for anyone with ambitions to follow 50 Shades of Grey into the bestseller charts, and is head judge for Writers' Forum Fiction Competitions. 


Here's Sue to tell you about her writing life:

Many readers are convinced that being a writer is fun.

And I think it is, too.

OK, I do spend most of my time sweating over my books, creating characters and plotting their lives, giving them conflicting goals, hurling them together, wrenching them apart. I polish, I research, I write blogs, Twitter and Facebook posts, I e-mail and do my accounts. I wear shapeless jeans and faded fleeces. Not all of this is fun.

But also ... I go to parties. Conferences. Meetings. I go onto radio shows, and journalists and bloggers interview me. Sometimes, I have my photo taken. (A double-edged sword - I like being made to feel like a star, but often I discover that the photographer hasn't quite got the idea of outrageous flattery.)

Recently, I went to the Romantic Novelists' Association's Summer Party, in the Royal Over-Seas League in London.

A party is a networking opportunity. It allows me to meet my publisher and the publisher's publicist, catch up on news from industry professionals, and, this time, to thank a friend who helped me with the research for my next book, Dream a Little Dream , by taking him as my guest. It meant champagne and canapés and applauding madly when fellow Choc Lit writers took both the New Writers' Award and the Romantic Novel of the Year Award. (A bit difficult to clap with a drink in each hand, but I whooped, hollered and whistled.) The next day, I joined the Choc Lit team for pizza and fizz. One has to refill the creative well and writerly lunches feed the inner woman at the same time as feeding the physical one.

Research means more fun.

I set Love and Freedom in Brighton, on the south coast of England, and in Connecticut, America. Happily, my son lives in Brighton and my brother lives in Connecticut. My son walked all my heroine Honor's walks and rode her bus rides with me (he was hungover so I decided the roller coaster was a bad idea).

Like Honor and hero Martyn Mayfair, I spent hours on the Undercliff Walk between Rottingdean and Eastingdean (don’t look for the latter on a map but it exists in my head). I took hundreds of photos. I made notes on my phone’s voice recorder, because nobody thinks you're mad if you talk into a phone, even about imaginary people.

In Connecticut, my brother and sister-in-law drove me around the state so that I could chat to people and take photos and ride trains and boats and think and plot …

I think that’s fun. Don’t you?

Sue Moorcroft writes about dauntless heroines and irresistible heroes and her book Love and Freedom won the Best Romantic Read Award 2011. 

Find out more about Sue and her books on her website, friend her on Facebook or follow her on twitter @suemoorcroft

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT GRAMMAR

Everybody hates this stuff, don't they?

We all buy great books about "how to" write - I have a huge collection - but we're not interested in the nuts and bolts of the craft, the stuff that makes what we do intelligible to the reader. We all rush to the chapters that show us how to create a plot, a to-die-for hero, a heroine with the strengths, empathy, spirit that we all yearn to possess.

It's inevitable. It's the exciting stuff. Who wants to read the boring stuff about apostrophes, or where to use a comma, and when to use a full stop? Dull, dull, dull.

But grammar is the basic tool in the writer's craft box and I'm bringing this up now because I've been reading entries to Mills & Boon's New Voices competition. I can't comment because it won't let me for some reason - but I'm not here to talk about computer glitches.

I read a lot of really great stuff, but all the time I was being thrown out of the story by bad grammar. Apostrophes in the wrong place. Sentences that were miles too long. Writers who seemed unfamiliar with the purpose of the comma or the full stop.

I'll tell you right now that I'm not a great grammarian. I use language in ways that serve my story. If I want single word sentences, I'll use them. If I want a sentence without a verb, I'll do that, too - but not too often.

I don't know about your computer, but mine is always throwing up wiggly lines and sometimes I'm not sure why, so I click on the mouse and find out. Mostly it's "fragments"; the sentence without the verb. I think about it, and decide if maybe I'm overdoing it and occasionally I'll combine two sentences. Sometimes I'm surprised to discover that I can't spell a word when I thought I could and I'm grateful for the help. Sometimes it's just querying my use of an apostrophe. (It's asking me to think about it, not telling me I've got it wrong - it just sees an apostrophe and thinks uh-oh...)

Do you know the difference between "its" and "it's"?

The thing is it matters. And in a world where editors and agents struggle for every minute in their day, they no longer have the time to cope with someone who hasn't taken the trouble to master the basic skills of writing a sentence. Read your work out loud and you'll soon realise how important this is.

The good news is that anyone can learn this stuff. I did. Point proved. Not the strange words - gerunds and past participles - but the reason for using an apostrophe and how commas help make sense of a sentence.

For those of you who are a little hazy on the basics, I can heartly recommend GETTING THE POINT by Elizabeth Hawksley and Jenny Haddon (former chairwoman of the Romantic Novelists' Association). It's a light-hearted and simple guide to grammar.

I'd also recommend noticing this stuff while reading. I know, we all race through a rattling good yarn without noticing the punctuation - that's the point. It enables the reader to instantly make sense of the words on the paper. But once you've enjoyed the book, you might usefully go back and read it again to look at sentence structure. The simple grammar. The skeleton that supported the story while you were concentrating on what was happening to the hero and heroine.

And good luck if you've entered NEW VOICES.

THIS WEEK I'M NOT...

at the Romantic Novelists' Association 50th Anniversary conference in Greenwich.

This has to be extremely bad planning, because while I sit here in my jammies at the crack of a Saturday dawn, all my writing mates are, right now, stirring, groaning and reaching for something to soothe the ravages of a night partying at the Gala celebration dinner.

Of course I am also missing out on the shocking heat in London and remain cucumber cool and headache free in a rather damp Wales.

Which would you choose?

Yes, I thought so.

Next year I'm going to have to plan my deadlines with rather more precision, since I've been roped in to give a talk or something. (I need plenty of notice of these things - a year should be about enough to come up with something interesting.)

Meanwhile my world is bounded by all things ice cream.

Elle, the heroine of my story (working title SCOOP!) has just gone for a ride in Rosie with a dishy bloke who's turned up at her door with a 1962 Commer Ice Cream van that is about to turn her world on its head.

(The dishy bloke might have a little to do with that, too!)



Oh, and just so that you know I really was working when I was pretending to be on holiday last week - here's my research photo.

This giant ice cream was spotted on the station at Paignton, where I boarded a steam train to Dartmouth. The sight of it moved me to go inside and buy one, although it wasn't a Whippy but some delicious west country dairy cream ice scooped onto a cone.

The jolly nice young man who served me wrapped it in a napkin (something Mr Whippy never did when I was a kid) and for which I was extremely grateful since it was a hot day.

Some books are just more fun to research than others.

HERE COME THE GROOMS!

It's that time of year again, when Anne McAllister, Kate Walker and I come up with all the threes. Three books, three heroes, three questions and three prizes for three winners.

All you have to do for your name to go into the draw to win one of the prizes is visit each of our blogs, answer three little questions about our heroes and send an email with the answers to ALL three questions to ALL three of us in an email with HERE COME THE GROOMS in the subject line.

So what's the prize?

This is a tricky one for me this year. My new Harlequin Romance, A Wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge, isn't published until May, so I don't have an excerpt up anywhere, or even any copies of the book to offer as prizes. What to do? Well, I thought I'd offer something a little special.

This year is the 50th Anniversary of the Romantic Novelists' Association and in association with Mira, they have published a fabulous anthology of short stories,
LOVES ME, LOVES ME NOT by their members, some of whom -- like Joanna Trollope, Katie Fforde, Elizabeth Chadwick and Anna Campbell -- are bestselling authors.

There are, in all, 43 stories including THE PARTNERSHIP DEAL, written by one Liz Fielding.

Which takes care of the prize. That leaves only the competition and I'm really not sure what to do about that...

"Liz... What you doing?"

"Oh, hi Kal..." -- pauses to grab fan -- "...I'm organising my section of the Here Come the Grooms contest."

"Well, I'm here, and I'm your latest Groom. What can I do to help?"

"Er..." -- applies fan with vigour -- "...maybe you could set a question? The answer has to be on my website."

"And this question is to be about me?"

"Whatever you say..."

"Well, that shouldn't be difficult. One moment..."

"Anne, Kate, I need cold water... Oh, Kal, you're back already. That was quick."

"Interesting. I didn't know that my beloved's first thought on seeing me was that I was her Prince Charming."


"That was an innermost thought, Kal. The kind of thing that women don't like a man to know."

"Of course not. It puts her at a disadvantage. It makes her feel vulnerable, no?"

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Oh, but yes. I shall enjoy teasing her."

"No!"

"Just a little. I promise that she will be happy.' That I do not doubt... 'Do what want my question?"

"Mmmm...please..."

"Very well, it is this -- Of which literary character (other than Prince Charming) did I remind my beloved Lydia ?"

"Perfect."

"This truly was an interesting discovery, Liz. I think I shall have to growl a little when I tease her..."

"No!"

"Purr?"

"Oh, good grief....' What can you do with the man!

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Liz?"

Throw a bucket of cold water over me... Won't this fan go any faster?

"Er, maybe you could drop by again to see how things are going?"

'That too, will be my pleasure."

Kate, Anne, excuse me while I go and stick my head in the fridge!

While I'm cooling off, you can find the answer to Kalil's question in the excerpt of HER DESERT DREAM on my website -- it's available both in paperback and as an eBook download from eHarlequin, Mills and Boon, and from Amazon in a Kindle format and, of course, from The Book Depository who offer a postage free service throughout the world.

And to recap, to be in the draw you have to send the answer to this question, and the questions on both Anne and Kate's blog in an email to all three of us with Here Come the Grooms in the subject line. There's an email link to me at the top of the sidebar -- and contact links to Kate and Anne on their blogs.

Three lucky winners will be drawn to receive a copy of Loves Me, Loves Me Not as well as Kate's The Konstantos Marriage Demand and Anne's One-Night Mistress...Convenient Wife

Should you already be lucky enough to already have a copy of Loves Me, Loves Me Not, I'll sort out another title for you.

Here are all three questions -

KAL'S QUESTION (from Her Desert Dream)

Of which literary character did Kal remind Lydia? (apart from Prince Charming!)

CHRISTO'S QUESTION (From One-Night Mistress, Convenient Wife by Anne McAllister)

Why is Natalie staying at her mother's house?

NIKOS'S QUESTION (From The Konstantos Marriage Demand by Kate Walker)

What name did Sadie use so that Nikos would not know his 10 o'clock appointment was her?

Good luck!

A NEW AUTHOR...

I'm part of the Carmarthen Chapter of the Romantic Novelists' Association here in the UK. I occasionally meet with other members for coffee and once in a while we all get together and have lunch to talk books, writing and quality puddings.

It's also a treat to celebrate a new publication by a friend and I'm delighted to present the first full length book, SUDDENLY YOU KNOW, by one of our members, Toni Sands.

Ambitious and independent thirtysomething Tanith has turned down not one, but two eligible men. As she starts work in a UK health store after a sizzling summer job in Majorca, she's determined to remain immune to both the icy charms of exec Adam and sexy, spiky-haired musician Rupe.

But avoiding romantic mayhem without resorting to comfort eating is a challenge, especially when confronted with Parents Behaving Badly, a flat-mate who falls for a love rat and a scheming colleague. With the odds against her, can Tanith find the strength to unravel the chaos, overcome her hang-ups and discover that love and passion are indeed within her reach?

Here's an extract, to whet your appetite...

Palma Airport concourse buzzed. Hellos and goodbyes, laughter and the whimper of a twitchy toddler hung in the recycled air while scents from the duty-free flirted with the coffee whiff. But flickering monitors and bilingual announcements faded as Tanith Russell felt Carlos’ arms envelope her like a smooth chocolate couverture.

“Adios, mi amor. I shall miss you so much.”

Crushed against his muscular chest, she asked herself for the millionth time if she were totally sane. Abandoning a Majorcan lover who roused her nerve endings to red alert with one touch of his lips had to be madness, didn’t it? Especially as he’d begun referring to her as his ‘significant other.’ And leaving the lush surroundings of the tennis resort where she’d worked a six month coaching contract was worse than the prospect of a wet Wimbledon fortnight.

This the woman who hated the business of flying; always putting her passport in the wrong pocket, always forgetting to fasten her seatbelt and always desperately needing a wee just as the cabin crew were performing synchronised safety procedures. So, why was she about to shut herself inside an airborne sardine tin for the second time this year?

For heaven’s sake - my decision’s made and I know it’s for the best. It’s time I stopped playing at life and went home to get on with it. My parents and my best friend need me much more than Carlos does.

“Adios, Carlos. Mmm.” Tanith hated goodbyes. “Thanks again for collecting George Clooney.”

“No problem. I hope he bring your friend happiness.” He pronounced the last word as ‘a penis,’ triggering Tanith’s gleeful snort; hastily disguised as a cough. The full-size cardboard publicity figure of the A-list heart-throb would no doubt ramp up her best friend’s pulse, but Tanith was beginning to regret her prank; especially when she contemplated toting Gorgeous George from the Heathrow baggage carousel to the Reading coach stop.

With a display of reluctance that would have won him a place at RADA, Carlos surrendered Tanith to the queue for Security, stretching out his arms in a Brief Encounter moment. She could almost hear plaintive piano chords as the human crocodile inched her towards the barrier. But, one last glance over her shoulder revealed Carlos running his fingers through his lustrous locks with one hand while the other punched a number into his phone. Clearly he was sizing up the straggle of pasty-limbed tourists filtering from the arrivals hall, seeking fun and romance in the October sunshine before succumbing to the dank embrace of the UK autumn.

Tanith applied for the coaching job at the Steve Dennis Tennis Resort purely on a whim after she disengaged herself from fiancé Will. They’d dated for two years before he asked her to move permanently into his king size bed, clinching the deal with lunch in a restaurant adjoining a chic jewellery store.

“What took you so long?” This comment from best friend Becky after Tanith de-activated the ticking time bomb of wedding plans.

“Was it so obvious?”

“Only to me,” said Becky. “But even I never suspected you possessed such self-flagellating tendencies.”

Disenchanted with her teaching job and conscious of colleagues eyeing her bare ring finger, Tanith worked the rest of the term. Temporarily back at her parents’ and sharing her bed with Douglas, her single male teddy-bear, she’d begun researching coaching jobs abroad.

**

For more information on Suddenly You Know, check out Toni's website here or you can find it online here --



Also from Waterstones and W H Smith

COMPETITIONS GALORE AND A VERY SPECIAL GUEST…

I’ve got a lot to get through in this post but I’ll do my best to keep it short because I’ve got Fiona Harper as my guest this week and I don’t want to keep you from the excerpt from ENGLISH LORD, ORDINARY LADY, her latest book and already short listed for the RNA Romance Prize.

First, Elizabeth Rolls has chosen her prize winners. Three of you! What a generous woman :) Congratulations to Eva, Cryna and Jean, this week’s lucky winners. You’ll be hearing direct from Elizabeth about your prizes.

Now I have to tell you that February – tomorrow! -- sees the start of the annual Anne McAllister/Kate Walker/Liz Fielding “Here Comes the…” competition. Last year it was the Brides leading the Grooms a merry dance. This year it’s going to be Grooms turn and who knows what they’ll get up to. What I can tell you is that there are three prizes and each prize will consist of the three latest titles from each of us. Anne's ONE NIGHT LOVE-CHILD, Kate's SPANISH BILLIONAIRE, INNOCENT WIFE and my THE BRIDE'S BABY.

You’ll find a question from each groom on our blogs and for a chance to win, you’ll have to send all three answers to each of us. Which gives you three chances to win. I think that’s clear…

I’ll introduce you to Anne and Kate’s grooms next week, but for now let me introduce you to self-made tycoon, Tom McFarlane.

He's a man who has everything except the very necessary well-bred wife to put the gloss on his meteoric rise from the lowest sphere of society.

A man who knows that love hurts and is having none of it, only for love to throw a spanner into the carefully oiled works and overturn his well-laid plans.

No doubt he'll take over and tell you the tale himself, but here's a bride's eye view of him to be going on with.

Sylvie turned to find her way blocked by six and a half feet of broad-shouldered male and experienced a bewildering sense of déjà vu.

A feeling that this had happened before.

And then she looked up and realised it was not an illusion. This had happened before – except on that occasion the male concerned had been wearing navy pin-stripe instead of grey cashmere.

“Some billionaire…” Laura had said, but she hadn’t mentioned a name. And she hadn’t bothered to ask, pretending she didn’t care.

She cared now, because it wasn’t just “some” billionaire who’d bought her family home and was planning to turn it into a conference centre.

It was Tom McFarlane, the man with whom, just for a few moments, she’d totally lost it. Whose baby she was now carrying.

Tom’s question is --
What colour silk did I become intimately acquainted with?
You’ll find the answer on Liz’s website.

If that’s not enough excitement for one week, Nicola Marsh is running a Valentine competition during February with books galore to win, including one of mine on the 1st. Check it out here.

Okay, you’ve had the trailers, now here’s the main attraction.

Fiona Harper stepped into stardom with her first book, the wonderful BLIND DATE MARRIAGE, winning the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Award against a line up that included mainstream women’s fiction. This year she has two books on the the “Romance Prize” shortlist and she’s going to be telling you about one of them, ENGLISH LORD, ORDINARY LADY, and offering a signed copy to one lucky prize winner. You’ve got until Monday morning (Sunday evening if you’re in the US) to enter.

Here’s Fiona to tell you about the inspiration for her book and give you an irresistible taster.

The inspiration for English Lord, Ordinary Lady came from a secondary character in my first book, Blind-Date Marriage. The heroine’s best friend was a rule-breaking pink-haired dynamo called Cassie, and I so badly wanted to give her a story of her own, even if it meant killing off her vicar husband and leaving her pregnant and homeless (aren’t I wicked!). I even had a hero all set up and a great idea for an ending, but…I just couldn’t get the timelines to fit with the past I had given Cassie in the previous book.

So, in the end, I decided to take the ‘spirit of Cassie’ and create a new heroine – one whose history I could manufacture to fit my story – and, hey presto, Josie popped into being. Her hair was just as pink as Cassie’s, her take on life just as unconventional, but she turned out to be younger, feistier and naughtier than I could ever imagine! I also kept the same ending I’d dreamed up for Cassie. In fact, the whole of English Lord, Ordinary Lady was written, and Will’s character created, just to let that ending make sense. I’m not going to give anything away, but let’s just say that it’s the bit where Will decides to keep everything under his hat (wink, wink).

It just so happens that I have relatives that run a tea room at a stately home. What a great way to bring an ordinary girl into the path of a stuffy, need-to-be-shaken-up English lord, I thought. But then the ‘what if’ fairies got to work on my idea. What if, instead of being a poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks, struggling to make good, Josie was actually from a family just as privileged as Will’s? What if she’d turned her back on that life? Suddenly, Josie became an upper class party-girl seeking to straighten herself out – and I knew I had a story that I was itching to write. But it turned out that I could take the it-girl out of the party circuit, but I couldn’t take that special something – the ‘it’ – out of the girl. And, despite himself, Will noticed it too. And that’s when all his troubles began, poor man…

'I’ve had an idea about how to get some more money in for Elmhurst Hall.’

‘Fire away.’

Josie was so excited she was almost bouncing in the chair. ‘I first got the idea yesterday…but I wasn’t sure…now I think it could.’

‘Josie, you’re not making any sense.’

The next sentence was delivered in such a breathless rush he only just recognised it as English.

‘You and me…we could…do a wedding, see how it goes. It could give us a wonderful future.’

Uh-oh. This is what you got for kissing your employees in the orchard. He’d known it had been a mistake right from the moment he’d opened his eyes afterwards. But this? This had caught him completely off-guard. Josie didn’t look like the rushing-into-wedlock type one little bit.

‘You mean…Josie, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.’

She looked puzzled. Had he really read her that wrong? Who would want to get married after just one kiss? He wasn’t that good a kisser, was he?

‘Why not?’

He stared at her. ‘Isn’t this a little sudden? I mean, I only just…’

She gave him a begging look. ‘I know you’ve only just given me the job, but I think this could really work.’

‘You do?’

‘Of course.’

She was deadly serious. He had fun with Josie. She was great company. And OK, despite his best efforts not to be, he was attracted to her. But marriage?
Seriously?

‘Give me a few seconds to mull this over.’

She crossed her arms, leaned back in the chair and waited.

His thoughts wandered back to the blossom-scented orchard of two nights ago. What had she said about him needing a wife and producing an heir? Not that he wasn’t flattered she was offering her services. But he couldn’t see Josie in that role.

He needed someone who not just knew the rules of high society, but was willing to play the game. If he got married—and it was still a big ‘if’—he would need a peacemaker, someone who could pour oil on troubled waters. That wasn’t Josie. Oh, no. She was the type to light a match and watch the oil slick explode.

Of course, her family money might help—he presumed this was part of the reason. And great families down the ages had made marriages of convenience to cement their positions, to increase their status or wealth, but he didn’t think it was something he could stretch to.

Money alone would not buy what he wanted. For the sake of his grandfather, he needed respect and a good reputation. With Josie on board they'd have reputation in spades. Just not the kind he wanted.

‘I think I’m going to have to say…’ How did he say this? He’d never had to turn down an offer of marriage before.

‘Please don’t say no before I’ve told you my plans!’

‘Plans?’ His voice was horribly croaky.

‘My brother is getting married in July. If they have the service and reception here, we could use it as a test run.’

‘Test run?’ This was getting scarier by the second.

‘Will, are you OK? You keep repeating the last thing I say.’

He clasped his hands, lay them on the desk in front of him and tried to look normal. ‘Fine. Absolutely fine.’

‘If Alfie’s wedding goes well, we could plan to book more for next year. I’ve checked the figures. People will pay thousands to get married at a beautiful place like this. It’s part of the fantasy, isn’t it? In a few years we might be able to get every Saturday through the summer booked. It would boost the income substantially. What do you think?’

Oh. She was talking about other people getting married. Weddings. Business. And he’d thought…

He checked his reflection in the blank computer screen to his left. Sometimes, Will, you rate yourself a little too highly.

My question for the competition is:

What is the name of the stately home that Will has just inherited in English Lord, Ordinary Lady? Check out my website for the answer. I'll be giving away a signed copy of English Lord, Ordinary Lady to the winner.

Send your answer -- plus your name and street address -- to liz @ lizfielding.com with "Fiona Harper" in the subject line.

DELIGHTS AND DISASTERS...

The new bed is amazing. It’s so HUGE – I’m thinking that maybe I should have settled on king-size rather than going to the superking, but the space is magic. As is the sheer comfort of the foot-thick mattress. I won’t mention the bruise where I caught my shin on one of the screws as we put the frame together…

No, honestly. Never has getting up in the morning been so difficult.

Just as well I made the effort on Friday. As I reached the kitchen there was a noise like torrential rain. Except it wasn’t rain, but you’d already guessed that hadn’t you? It was hot water pouring from the bottom of my washing machine and no, I hadn’t gone to bed leaving it running.

Experience has taught me that if a washing machine is going to stick, it will always stick on “fill”, never on “drain”. Just as well the little grey cells were sufficiently awake for me to grope for the switches under the sink and turn off the water. Luckily I’m completely up to date with the washing – if not the ironing – so a few days while it gets sorted out is not going to be a problem, but it looks as if the cheque for the last book arrived in the nick of time. I'm still waiting for my author copies of Bride for a Billionaire, though.

The new book is doing what new books always seem to do these days. Not a lot. I’ve got a hero and a heroine and a complication, but I keep running up against that little part of me that refuses to suspend belief and go with it; the one that keeps say “But…” And then, yesterday afternoon everything shifted sideways and I began to see a story emerge. And lying awake half the night with it going around in my head has shifted one of the niggles. With luck and a following wind, I might just get this done.

Fortunately, I’ve a couple of inspirational trips to London next week, dallying with colleagues and editors, first at the RNA Awards lunch, then at the Mills & Boon Centenary Cocktail Party; the stimulating conversation of fellow writers always acts like a whiff of oxygen to the brain, which reminds me, I’d better go and shake out my pink feather boa, but not before I've thanked Elizabeth Rolls for being such a star guest last week. It’s been a while since I read a Regency romance. Definitely time to reacquaint myself with their particular charms.

I'll post news of the winner of A Comprised Lady on Thursday.

There are a couple of other things I have to mention before I go. First Nicola Marsh is running a fabulous Valentine Quiz during February with books galore on offer. She’s got one of mine up for grabs on the 1st so make a note on your PC diary to drop by and join in the fun!

February 1st also sees the start of the annual Anne McAllister, Kate Walker, Liz Fielding competition. Last year it was Here Come the Brides. This year we’re going with HERE COME THE GROOMS.

Anne’s Theo has promised to put in an appearance, Max Valentine might just find time to drop by and I’m hoping that Kate will tempt Domenico into putting in an appearance to provide support for the three grooms being put through it by their brides this year. Whatever, you can be sure the males will be alpha, the brides will be spirited and that three winners will each win a signed copy of all three books being featured this year.

Finally, Fiona Harper – winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writer Award for her first book, double Rita nominee in her first year of publication and with two books on the shortlist for the RNA’s “Romance Prize” this year – will be my guest here on Thursday. Better get out the red carpet…

Fiona will be telling us about her February “Romance”, offering a signed copy to one lucky reader and, hopefully, telling us the secret of her success.

Not to be missed.

THE GREAT ADVENT CALENDAR GIVEAWAY

DAY NINETEEN

December 19th

Diana and Zahir have a lot to think about so I'm leaving them in peace for a while. But here's another picture of Zahir because we all need something good to look at!

The award I was thinking of for day seventeen, was the RNA Betty Neels Trophy (there's a picture of me with it on my biography page on the website), but you all found a load of other stuff, the CAPA, a couple of RT awards amongst them and they were fine, too. The name out of the hat for GENTLEMEN PREFER ... BRUNETTES was Tammy in Utah and the book is on it's way. I seem to be keeping the post office going single-handedly in my neck of the woods!


Today's book is another sheikh. My first, HIS DESERT ROSE. Prince Hassan al Rashid, a rebel, an outsider, a man who would do anything to keep his country in safe hands. Even if that means kidnapping international journalist Rose Fenton to stop her being used by a corrupt government. But Rose isn't your average woman; she's exactly where she wants to be and Hassan quickly finds his hands full in more ways than one.

If you want a chance to win a copy of HIS DESERT ROSE, sent me an email at liz @lizfielding.com, with Day Nineteen in the subject line, your name and address in the body of the mail and the answer to this question: How old is Sophie Harrington? You'll find the answer in the excerpt link to Bride for Christmas on my website.

And on Wednesday, we're having a post party at eHarlequin with a chance to win copies of Harlequin "Romance" novels. Just click here.

Finally, the long list for the Romantic Novel of the Year Award has just been announced and there are some great names it. Check it out here.