I’d been somewhat nervously awaiting this one, just because I love the first two covers in the series so much! When I had to fill in my cover art form for Lily and Alex’s story, all I could really think to ask for was: More of the same, please!

And that’s what Renee has given me, and more. I love the wedding theme, and the colour is just perfect.

In fact, I loved it so much, I thought it was time to give the rest of the site a spruce up not just in honour of the new cover, but for the two new books I have coming out this year.

I’ve rejigged the content a bit, added a page for my Harlequin Romance novels, which has a bit more detail about Luce and Ben, the stars of my September release, Stranded with the Tycoon, as well as pre-order links for the book. And, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve added a bit of colour to the site! Here’s hoping it’ll usher in a bright and sunny summer for us all, any day now…

Of course, if you’re missing the summer sun, you could always go read An A to Z of Love for scenes of seasides, smugglers and other things beginning with S. Warning: does contain seafood.

On this day, last year, my first novel, Room for Love, was officially released. I was, due to a slight scheduling error, stuck up a castle in Derbyshire at the time, trying to manage release promos and blog tours via the non-existant 3G connection on my phone, and squealing every time someone texted or messaged me to say they’d bought it.

Since then, of course, the second novel in the series, An A to Z of Love, has also been released, and the third book, Summer of Love, contracted for release this December. I’ve also got two books coming out in the Mills & Book / Harlequin Romance line – the first, Stranded with the Tycoon, is up for pre-order on Amazon UK and Amazon US right now, ready for its September release. Cover should follow soon… And I’m going to finish writing the second one any day now, promise!

But if you want to see where it all began, pop on over to the Avalon Inn and visit Carrie and Nate, as they try and save the Inn from bankruptcy, satisfy the demands of the ornery Seniors, and dance to the music of Mr Bing Crosby…

Romance Writers Reviews: 5/5 Stars

Sweet, sexy, and then sweet again. “Room for Love” is a beautiful romance story.

Amazon UK: Room for Love

Amazon US: Room for Love

This weekend, I turned 33.

I’m a big believer in making the most of birthdays, as anyone who has had to listen to me going on and on about this one will testify. I know some people prefer to ignore them, or at least ignore the fact that they’re getting older, but I like to celebrate. Not just making it through another year – although that is always worthy of cake – but also everything that’s happened over the last twelve months, good and bad.

This year, I’ve been incredibly lucky. The good has far outweighed the bad while I was 32. I signed book contracts with two publishers, we moved to our lovely new house and made great friends here, the daughter started at her fantastic new school and, just last week, we had confirmation that she has a place in the Reception class there from September.

Yep, 32 was a damn good year. Especially since my friends and family were on hand to help me celebrate in style, and usher in 33 with plenty of cake.

The cake started last Thursday, when the daughter and I went round to a friend’s house and I was presented with this:

This was, and I quote, “Just a little something I knocked up this morning.” It won’t surprise you to learn that the friend in question was the same one that made the daughter’s incredible Alice in Wonderland cake for her birthday.

Anyway, three slices later (it was chocolate cake. Incredible, ganache topped chocolate cake.) I was definitely feeling the birthday spirit. Which was just as well, because the cake didn’t end there.

I’d planned a full weekend of celebrations, so on Friday we drove up to Wales to my parents’ house, arriving just in time for a glass of wine and a catch up, before midnight, and the birthday itself, were upon us. Saturday morning I was treated to a smoked salmon and scrambled egg breakfast, along with my presents, before Nain and Pops took the daughter off to the zoo with Uncle Kip and her cousin Robin.

Apparently they had fun:

Essentially, my parents gave me 24 child free hours for my birthday. And boy, did we make the most of them.

The husband and I headed up to Manchester, to visit our very lovely, very dear friends’ Kate and Pete. Since they’ve known us since childhood, they fully understood the importance of The Birthday. And so I was greeted with the most beautiful Coptic-bound notebook, a cup of tea, and an afternoon sipping wine in the garden with other people cooking for me. The husband got to play with fire, which always makes him happy. Even the sun seemed to get the importance of shining for me on my birthday:

Then they took me out to a cocktail bar later that evening, and didn’t complain when I was my normal, boring self and turned down all the exciting drinks in favour of a gin and tonic. They even bowed to my greatest birthday girl wish – to go home around midnight, put our pyjamas on, eat cheese on toast and watch Doctor Who before bed. At which point, they also brought out cake number two – an incredible white chocolate cake, covered in beautifully plump raspberries. It even had candles! Sad to report, there are no photos, mostly because it didn’t last that long.

On Sunday, we had Mexican scrambled eggs and pots and pots of tea, lunch at a lovely local pub, and a small walk around the public gardens next door, before we sadly had to say goodbye.

They did send us home with a present for the daughter, though:

Back at Nain and Pops’s house, we had a delicious Sunday dinner waiting for us – along with yet another cake. The daughter and I took turns blowing out the candles – which required the traditional double singing of Happy Birthday (once normally, once at double speed) – and I made my last birthday wish.

I wished that 33 be every bit as good as 32. Maybe, if I’m incredibly lucky, even a little bit more fantastic…

For me, back to school means back to work. With a book due in at the end of next month, I couldn’t quite afford to take the full two weeks off for Easter, but with the daughter at home all day everyday, work has been crammed into evenings and weekend mornings while she’s watching cartoons with the husband, before we head out for family holiday fun.

We’re incredibly fortunate; by working from home I have great flexibility about when I work – invaluable when we have no close family living nearby, and feel kinda guilty about taking too much advantage of the very generous friends who offer to entertain the daughter for odd afternoons when they think I’m getting a little stressed out about falling behind.

Still, with the husband working full time and studying for his PhD in something scientific (I think it has to do with magnets…) it has felt a little like we’re working shifts here this holiday. The husband took last Friday off work to spend having adventures with the daughter. I handed her over to him at 9am and, barring occasional stop ins for emergency hugs, and once to show me her new swimming costume (“Guess where we’re going Mummy! You’ll never guess!”) left them to it until 4pm. At which point I cleared the desk, packed away my computer, let the husband into the study (with laptop and notes in hand) and took over the train track making, dinner cooking, bath and bedtime songs and story reading routines. At 8pm, the husband stopped work long enough for us to eat pizza together, then we both got back to it for another hour or two. He got the study, I got the sofa. And the leftover mini eggs.

So it’s nice to be back to my usual routine this week, working mornings in my little study, then spending time with the daughter in the afternoon. She’s developed a newfound love of hoovering to go with her dusting obsession, so for once the housework is actually getting done with some regularity.

And tomorrow evening they announce the school places for the district. Come September, whichever school she ends up at, my little girl will be heading off in a uniform for the first time, and I’ll have six hours of uninterrupted peace to write my stories.

So for now, I think I’ll go and get the train set out, ready for when she gets back from nursery. We still haven’t managed to make a track with no dead ends that uses all the pieces. Must achieve it before September…

Her favourite times to indulge this pastime at the moment are: when she’s gardening with Daddy; when she should be going to sleep; whenever anybody is trying to do anything requiring any level of concentration; when I’m cooking. But above and beyond all these, the best time to ask questions is Dinner Time.

Dinner Time has a couple of advantages over the other scenarios. Firstly, all three of us are sitting in the same place, trapped there by our hunger and table manners. Secondly, if she’s asking us questions, it’s harder for us to interrupt long enough to convince her that she needs to eat her meat as well as her vegetables.

Recent dinner conversation topics have included:

1. Why Daddy never answers his phone (a valid question) and whether it’s because he’s working in the ‘boratory (a much better abbreviation than ‘lab’)
2. What happened to the dinosaurs?
3. Why do we have to take vitamins?
4. How do bones stay together?
5. There are no fairies in our world, are there? Because they’re all in fairy world, right?
6. How old do you need to be to go climbing?
7. How do lightbulbs work?
8. How can you tell if people are married?
9. How do you get to run a recycling centre?
10. Why do animals die, but not people?
11. Do people die?
12. What happens to people when they die? Do they get to go home again?

And so on.

But by far the most popular question is: “What things did you and didn’t you have when you were little?”

So far the husband and I have reassured her on the following points:

1. No, there were no dinosaurs left when we were little (the husband is putting together a timeline. He’s a little touchy about this one)
2. Yes, we had bicycles
3. No, there was no internet. No digital cameras. No Skype
4. Yes, we had bowls. And clocks
5. But there were only four TV channels, and none of them were cBeebies
6. Yes, we did have the colour blue!

Some of the questions are harder to answer than others. Still, it’s fascinating to watch her navigate the world, developing her understanding of how things work, what happened before, and where she fits in. Right now, she thinks she’d like to get married, one day, but she still wants to live with me. She’d like to run a hardware store, or a recycling centre, or maybe be a chef. Or run an ice cream cafe. Or just look after me and clean the house (my favourite).

And sometimes, her analysis of the world around her is alarmingly astute. For example, yesterday, she described my job to me. It started with, “You don’t get holidays, do you Mummy?” and culminated with, “And then you send the book to your agent, and she says, ‘No! Make it more exciting! Use bigger letters!’”

Which, both the agent and I agreed, was pretty much true.

Sigh. Suppose I’d better go and use some bigger letters in the latest draft…

Unusually for us, we were at home for Easter this year, rather than up in Wales, because a very dear friend was getting married on Easter Saturday. We had  a wonderful, if chilly, day. A moving wedding service at a beautiful church, delicious food and better company at the reception, a flashmob style dance to Time Of My Life during which I managed to not actually fall over, and stunning fireworks. By the time we dragged the daughter off the dancefloor, we were all ready for bed.

The bride was beautiful, the groom looking very handsome, and yet the only photo I managed to take all day was of the husband and daughter. On the plus side, it’s the first photo in several months where she’s not scowling… 

Unfortunately, I was also on yet another book deadline this weekend, so have been alternating between edits and easter eggs for the last few days.

I handed the book in yesterday, just before sitting down to our Easter lunch – roast lamb, boulangerie potatoes, spring greens, all followed by banoffee pie. Then I collapsed, full, on the sofa and watched the latest episode of Doctor Who, thus making it feel far more like Christmas than Easter.

So today, I’m tidying up, catching up on admin (and this blog…) and starting work on a new project – the second of my contracted novels for Harlequin Romance. Which, I might add, is due in very, very soon indeed.

It’s going to be another busy month, but I’m going to take this afternoon off to relax, spend time with the husband and daughter, and possibly eat some chocolate.

The husband, by the way, did very well this Easter. After the utter present-fail of Christmas (when I ordered, collected, paid for and very almost wrapped my own present) he managed to buy me a ridiculously oversized chocolate egg without me noticing, or finding it hidden in the house. He also bought me a new mug, ready to start my new project, so he’s officially back in the good books.

Well, until my birthday, later this month, when we may need to reevaluate again…

As Easter Sunday drew to a close, I pottered upstairs last night to check if the daughter was asleep, only to find her sitting up in bed reading her book out loud to her Teddy. For the first – but almost certainly not last — time, I had to tell her “Ten more minutes reading then lights off,” just as my Mum did with me for years and years.

I texted Mum to tell her. I think she’s still laughing.

But it’s March 1st, St David’s Day, and surely it has to be spring by now, right?

Spring always makes me want to do things. Not clean, obviously, but other things. Start new projects, undertake new activities, make something.

In this spirit, the daughter is starting ballet class today – something she is beyond excited about. She’s been to a couple of taster classes with a friend and, while she might not have a natural genius for dance, she threw herself into it wholeheartedly. She’s been practicing her gallops ever since. It’s like taking a very small horse for a walk.

I, on the other hand, am in something of a holding pattern, unable to get going on all sorts of things. I’ve just finished up revisions on one book, and am now waiting for edits from my agent. I’m expecting content edits any day for Summer of Love, and copy edits for Stranded with the Tycoon. (There are a lot of edits in my future, it seems. Expect whining.) And then there’s my editor’s thoughts on my proposal for my next Mills and Boon novel, something I’m waiting very anxiously for!

So there’s a lot of hurry up and wait going on around here. On the plus side, we’re halfway through redecorating the study! The husband has painted and papered the walls, we’ve spent the obligatory five hours in IKEA choosing desks, shelves, lighting, desk chair and bookcase, and the very indulgent reading chair was delivered this morning… we’re just waiting for the carpet to arrive and get fitted before we can put it all together. Sigh.

If only I were a more patient person. Perhaps I’ll go outline another book while I wait…

Still, I wanted to update the blog with the latest dates and details for my upcoming releases…

Firstly, my debut Harlequin Mills and Boon novel! Titled Stranded with the Tycoon, this will be released as a Harlequin Romance novel in the US this September. It’ll also have a digital, hardback and large print release in the UK in the same month, although it won’t be available as a paperback over here. (Don’t worry! They promise my future releases will… And I’m really liking that assumed plural there!)

Secondly, the third part of my Love from Wales series, Summer of Love, is currently scheduled for release (digital only) from Lyrical Press on December 2nd. This is always subject to change until a couple of months out, but I’ll keep you updated on any shifts. I’m hoping that just as winter is beginning to bite, you’ll all be ready to read about a summer full of weddings, love and jewellery…

Right! Must get back to work. Many more books to write!

I didn’t argue with them.

Of course, when you have a small child and your family live hundreds of miles away, getting out to celebrate isn’t always the easiest thing. Fortunately for me, since we moved house I have met some very kind and lovely women, and the daughter has become great friends with their children. And one of them, Karen, was actually foolish enough to offer to take the daughter for the night.

And so started the daughter’s Very First Sleepover.

First there was the preparation. Not just packing, but checking with Karen exactly what she’d need to bring. Not me checking, you understand. The daughter.

“This is my lamb. I have it at bedtime and it plays music. Can I bring it?” Yes.

“This is Teddy and this is Cuddly. Can I bring them?” Yes.

“This is my panda bear onesie. Shall I bring it?” Yes.

Then there was the issue of activities. Karen had promised they could watch a film on their big screen before bed, which led to a whole raft of questions.

“What film are we going to watch?” (Arthur Christmas, even though it’s nearly Easter.) “I don’t like popcorn, though.” (Ice cream was offered instead.) “Can you paint my nails pink? What will we have for dinner? What about breakfast? Where will we sleep?”

She does like to have a plan, that girl.

To be honest, I’m not sure an awful lot of sleeping was actually done. They started out on the floor, moved to separate beds, the same bed, the floor again… and so on. But from the way the daughter refused to stop talking excitedly for 36 hours after her return, I think we can assume it was fun.

In the meantime, the husband and I, along with Uncle Mike and an assortment of friends, actually got to go out, together, and celebrate. (Since, on the day I got The Call, the husband had decided to go climbing instead of celebrate with me, this was a Very Good Thing.)

And, I got cake! The same very talented friend who made the daughter’s magnificent birthday cake, made me a special bookish cake to celebrate. The nice staff at the wine bar cut it up and served it for us.

(The husband, incidentally, ate the tea pot, and turned his tongue blue.)

So, I have now officially celebrated. Now all I have to do is write the second book…

Lemon Pie Research

I mentioned recently that the daughter had become somehow convinced that upon the moment of her turning four, she would suddenly be able to whistle. We tried to explain to her that this wasn’t quite how things worked, but to no avail. And, of course, she woke up on her birthday still unable to whistle.

She had, however, suddenly gained the ability to read.

This isn’t entirely unprecedented in my family. We were all quite unaware that my brother Kip had learned to read as a small child, until he sat down to breakfast one day and read out the back of a cereal box.

I am, of course, thrilled that she’s reading. I haven’t been exactly silent in my longing for the point when she’d be able to occupy herself with a book, instead of with asking me questions. But more than that, I know how much pleasure I got from reading as a child, and I’m excited for her to be able to experience that. Of course, right now she’s mostly reading sentences like, “A cat is a good pet,” and “A dog can run and walk and sit,” but it’s only a matter of time.

Several of my friends have asked me what I did to encourage such early reading. Sadly, I think this one is entirely the daughter’s doing. In fact, the first words she started to recognise, after her name, were signs for shops. Tesco, Marks and Spencer, B&Q, Hobbycraft, she knows them all. Once she got bored of those, she began to insist on having the subtitles on, whenever she watched her favourite programmes. It wasn’t until she started asking questions about why Dr has a capital D, or why know has a silent K at the front, that I realised she was teaching herself to read.

Then, on the morning of her fourth birthday, she sat in our bed and read out every one of her birthday cards. A week later, as we rushed around getting ready for school, she realised we hadn’t read her school library book that week, and it was due in that day. I sent her to fetch it, and told her to look through it while I finished emptying the dishwasher, then I’d read it to her.

By the time I’d put away all the dishes, she was ready to read it to me.

I mentioned it to her teacher, of course, who said, “Ah, yes. Actually, I put a sheet up on the whiteboard the other day about a polar bear, and she read it out before I could.”

So we procured some Stage 1 reading books from the Reception class, and yesterday we took them with us on an important Lemon Pie research trip to the coffee shop (it’s for a book! Honest!)

Once she’d finished her pie (pictured above) she pulled out the books and read them to me. Without pause, without difficulty. I was very proud. And a little terrified.

We’ve always read to the daughter, of course, and she’s always loved books. When she started getting interested in the alphabet, we picked up some phonics dvds that she’s watched so many times we can all recite them by heart. She has a couple of books designed to help develop reading, and we’ve done a bit with them, but not much.

Basically, I think she just got bored of not being able to decipher all the words around her, on signs, in buildings, in books, and decided it was time to learn.

She’ll be writing her own books before long. Just you wait and see.