New Novel News

 

Copy of UntitledI woke up today to discover we had no water. I’ve already used up our loo flushes. If lockdown wasn’t enough.

How are you coping during this crazy time? Does it all feel like a bad dream to you too?  I’ve started wearing the same cardigan day in and day out (who will know?) I did fiddle about with some make up one day. One must have standards. We only went to Poundstretcher but all the same. I got quite excited when I saw there were no queues. Who’d have thought it? Overwhelming excitement at going to Poundstretcher and buying some bargain yarns to crochet with. I came home and planted some seeds into pots. I’m rubbish though and managed to use topsoil instead of compost. Andrew pointed this out. I wondered why it looked like mud when I’d watered them. Oh well …

I watched the briefing by Boris Johnson. He’s our Prime Minister, I think. I only doubt this because we hardly ever see him. I’m sure you would see the Prime Minister a lot more in this national crisis so perhaps he isn’t. Maybe that guy Hancock is. We see a lot of him. I don’t think I have ever looked at so many graphs in my life. Still, they make no sense. It must be me. The government surely must know what they’re doing. It’s good to know we can now exercise as much as we like. Even go to work if we can. If we can’t then we don’t have to, it seems. I dream of normality when I sleep.

I’ve cleaned out all the drawers and I’m up to date with the washing. We’ve painted the kitchen and mowed the lawn within an inch of its life. I’ve baked, knitted, crocheted, read, and written novels. I ignore the state of my hair when I look in the mirror. I rather like the grey mixed in with the blonde. I suppose I ought to do something.

The worst thing about lockdown is the amount of food I’m consuming. When they finally say we can all go back to normal I won’t be able to get through the door.

It will be nice to go to the supermarket without someone shouting ‘2 metres apart’ or have the loud tanoy instructing me to only buy what’s necessary.

Yesterday Andrew had to go into the office. I became quite anxious at the thought of him going out and mixing with people again.

It’s odd isn’t it, how we’ve managed to cope? I’m even sleeping better which has surprised me. I feel calmer too. All the social pressure has left me. I don’t have to worry about saying no to someone’s invitation because no one is inviting me. I hope they remember me when this is over.

I miss going out for dinner and to the cinema. What do you miss the most?

So, the good news. At least it is good news for me. I had got to the point when I thought a new novel would never be forthcoming. It’s here and will be released on June 1st and readers are already saying how much they have loved it. You can pre-order it here.

 

THE DAY HENRY DIEDCopy of Untitled (3)

‘Suppose you wake up one morning to find yourself dead. You can see yourself clearly in the mirror, and feel the same as you did the day before. But today is the day of your funeral. What do you do?

This was Henry’s dilemma. Henry decides he can’t possibly be dead, so he sets out to prove he is alive. Then, he discovers that Rita, a product demonstrator at the supermarket, can see him.

Even with the help of Rita, proving you’re not dead was harder than Henry imagined, but when Henry discovered that he was murdered, the question was why and by whom?’

Stay safe and enjoy the novel.

Much love until next time

Lynda

xx

Lockdown with a smile

woman-bw-typewriter

Around the middle of January, I scrolled through the news app on my phone. I had my breakfast of Special K and coffee made with Hazelnut Milk and skimmed through a news report about a virus outbreak in China. That was a long way from me so I barely gave it a second thought. Life continued as normal. (I never imagined that several weeks later I’d be searching the shelves for Hazelnut Milk. We don’t drink cow’s milk.)

A few weeks later I went shopping in Oxford with my friend and we joked about the women we saw who covered their faces with scarfs when we got into the lift with them in Debenhams. Never imagining for one moment that in a matter of weeks Debenhams would be closed. That our shopping trips to Oxford would never be the same again.

‘It’s in China, not here,’ we said.

How naive we were.

So, life continued. I read about a few outbreaks in other countries but it still didn’t touch us.

Later, I read about people being stuck on cruise ships because of outbreaks of the Corona Virus. I remember feeling a small pang of anxiety and then quickly pushed my worries to one side. But then I started reading about Facebook friends who were stuck on these cruise ships. I checked the number of cases in the UK, saw it was very small and carried on as normal, albeit slightly nervous.

Then, in the middle of February, I became very unwell. I had a continuous dry cough. I would wake up in the middle of the night soaked in sweat and coughing. The next few days I felt like I had a really bad cold or mild flu. I ached and my legs felt heavy. There was mention of the Corona Virus in Europe so I stayed home, not in the least convinced I had it. I did, however, feel very unwell. The continuous dry cough drove me nuts. I developed a terrible headache with flashing lights in my right eye. I’d never had that before. My blood pressure went through the roof.

‘I must have the flu,’ I said.

But it didn’t feel quite like flu. I didn’t have a sore throat. I had a bit of sneezing but nothing excessive. But I was very tired.

Now, I wonder, did I have it? Shortly after, Andrew became unwell. He said it was the worst cold he’d ever had.

Now, here we are. Isolation for everyone.

Strange times. Andrew is on a 2 week holiday. We were going to York. We were going to have lunches out. Instead, today Andrew has to go into work to collect any important documents and laptops he needs to work from home.

Yesterday we sorted through the freezer. A long overdue job and found loads of meals we’d frozen and forgotten about. They’ll all have to be eaten now.

Today Andrew ordered a hair trimmer! I hope he doesn’t ask me to trim his hair.

My grandson is the only child in the village school. That seemed weird. I think there may have been one other child. The schools are closed except for front line worker’s children. My grandson’s parents are both nurses.

Day 1 lockdown

After Boris Johnson’s briefing last night 23/03/2020 I awoke this morning feeling strange. Last night Boris Johnson said all shops would be closed and to shop online if you could.  I’d spent last night looking online for cat food. I assure you that my cat will survive even if I don’t.  I was stunned to see online shopping websites closed due to the demand. Everything on the Wilko site was sold out. I then laid awake for over an hour working out what food we had in the freezer and how much cat food there was in the cupboard and whether we could spare some chicken breast for our boy (yes he’s spoilt), while feeling overwhelming anger, verging on murderous thoughts, towards those people whose homes are no doubt bulging with toilet roll, cat food, kitchen towel, hand sanitizer and god knows what! I woke up feeling I was in a Margaret Attwood novel.

We don’t have a television so we’re not being bombarded by the news. We watch it as and when we think it is important to do so.

I decided to plan my days. Keep busy. Lots of knitting, crochet, and writing. A walk every day, which is essential.

I’m thinking of those people who live in high rise flats. We have lovely weather. I’m lucky I can step out into my garden or walk through my village.

So much in our lives has changed already. I’m cleaning the house obsessively. What’s new?

I never thought I’d be disinfecting the doorbell on a regular basis or that I would almost choke rather than cough in public.  Or that my closest friends would become WhatsApp mates, only.

And I thought Brexit would be bad. Good practice for what is to come.

At least we have wine.IMG_6027

Day 2 of Lockdown

Andrew is to work from home once his holiday is over and to think I was dreading semi-retirement. So far so good. The knives are still in the drawer and I haven’t threatened to leave (where would I go ?) All is well. Just keep taking the HRT and hope there isn’t a shortage. Andrew went to the office to get his laptop and anything else he needed and then braved it to Lidl and Sainsbury on his way back. They were well stocked and there was me going into a massive panic because we were running out of kitchen towel.

So far we haven’t experienced the mass hysteria of panic buying. I can’t imagine battling it out for a pack of loo roll. I’m learning to be more economical with that! Although sometimes I forget and then feel terribly guilty that I used an extra sheet.

Day 3

The days are passing much quicker than I thought they would. Although, it has only been three. In fact, we seem to be getting nothing done.

I checked our toilet roll stash if you can call it a stash, compared to what some have. Where are they storing it is what I want to know?

Anyway, we’ll be all right for a while. I thought of buying serviettes, but the panic buyers were quicker. No flies on them. None to be had.

Everyone is very polite in our local Coop. If you accidentally bash them with your trolley they almost apologise for being in your way. All very civilised. No fighting over food. Of course, I imagine if you coughed anywhere near them, then they may well bash you to the death with their cucumber.

Andrew had a bit of a wobbly when he realised he couldn’t get to Homebase. I said, get it online. The problem is he wants the stuff like yesterday and can’t really wait until 2021.

Will this ever end? We’ve only been in lockdown for a short time and it feels like forever.

Lockdown Day 3 or is it 4 (I’m already getting confused)

Living in a Cotswold village during a virus outbreak is a blessing. Everyone helping everyone else with prescription collection and sharing their shopping delivery slots. We ventured to the Coop again. Not a million miles away. Odd to see the usual pharmacy queue at the doctors surgery now out into the street and halfway through the village, while people stay 6 feet from each other. I remember when they would squash right up to you to get you to move down the queue faster. How times quickly change.

The Coop shop was strange. People entering behind us and then stopping when we did. Always staying 6 feet behind. I felt stressed like I was holding them up while I looked at the grapes. The store was well stocked which was a relief to see. I spent most of the time in there dancing with people so we could shop at a reasonable distance. Had a few near misses but overall all very dignified. Odd to see the staff putting out stock with gloves on and people covering their faces with scarfs as I passed them. It was like being in a leprosy colony. Who’d ever have imagined it? We left the Coop and headed home passing the local garage as we did so. I saw all the pumps were ‘not in use’ apart from one.

‘Uh oh,’ I said.

So Andrew filled up. I couldn’t cope with queuing for petrol next.

I thought I’d look on the Boots pharmacy website for some of the things I couldn’t get in the supermarket. There was a six-hour virtual queue!  Six hours! By the time I got to the front they’d be nothing left. I aborted the mission. I will try again tomorrow.

Day 5 (I believe it was actually Day 4 Yesterday)

Andrew is painting everything in sight. It’s his new hobby. Portraiture is his favourite. He hasn’t asked me to pose nude for him yet. I don’t know why. I imagined I would be his favourite subject. He seems more interested in painting the cat. I’m hoping he’ll start on the kitchen walls but he reminds me there is nowhere to buy paint and anyway it’s not that kind of painting.

I’ve been writing and procrastinating and then more procrastinating.  My friend dropped in some Hazelnut milk for me. She and her husband stood at the front of my gate. Then my other neighbour came along and stopped six feet from them and then Andrew joined me.  I then panicked because there were now five of us and that constitutes a gathering, doesn’t it? We could have had a barbeque. Meanwhile, someone’s chimney caught fire and suddenly there were fire engines everywhere. It was becoming quite a large gathering, albeit six feet apart from each other. We were responsible though and all went back inside our houses and continued our lockdown.

 

Day 6 (surely it’s day 9 or 10, or perhaps it just feels like it.)

Instagram is full of celebrities sharing their fears, recipes, or thoughts. Make up free, hair a mess. We’re going to view these celebs in a whole other light after this. Perhaps the new craze will be reveal yourself as you are, warts and all. They’re  giving us an inside look into their lives. Showing us that they are the same as us, albeit a little bit richer and a little bit more famous and just a touch more influential. Of course, most of us knew that. Anyway, back to more serious things. I fell over. This is serious because Andrew, who was in the summer house, chatting to his brother, never heard me fall or the crash of the jug I dropped. I did wait for him to come hurrying out but to no avail. Eventually, I dragged myself up and into the house. I sprained my ankle and grazed my knee. It’s not the time to go to the x-ray walk-in department is it? Still it could have been worse. It could have been my neck. There’s always a silver lining.

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Day 7 and 8 of lockdown (they’re all merging into one another now. I’m still limping)

Foot is black and blue and three times its usual size. We’re trying to pretend all is well. It would be far bigger if it was broken wouldn’t it? We braved it to Lidl. Delighted to see from the car park there were no queues and then we turned the corner … Loads of people standing 2m apart with masks and gloves on.

‘Ah,’ I screeched. ‘I forgot gloves’

Andrew rolled his eyes and said nothing. I grasped the handle of the trolley with my coat sleeves and limped forward. Lidl was nicely stocked. I grabbed two plastic bags so I could distance my hands from the trolley and we were off. I tried not to get annoyed at those who didn’t observe the social distancing while Andrew kindly reminded me the place was full of germs anyway. He has this wonderful knack of cheering me up. I know I shouldn’t have but I did stockpile chocolate. I thought I’d make a chocolate cake. Whether I’ll get any further than just thinking about it, is anyone’s guess.

Not being able to go for walks is driving me a bit stir crazy.  I dreamt about the virus again last night. In this one things had really progressed and we weren’t allowed to leave our bedroom!  (sigh) I’m off to rest my poorly foot. More soon if you can bear it.

Much love

Lynda xx

 

More soon … if you can bear it.

Grief, Letting Go and A New Novel, of Course.

Putting on a brave front is not the thing to do. I’ve found this out the hard way. Loss is something we all experience. Grief shouldn’t be ignored. However, I just soldiered on, thinking, for some odd reason, that grieving wasn’t for me.

I lost my mum a year ago and a few other things happened around the same time. It taught me that not all people are like me and that others don’t empathise in the same way. I learnt that people are thoughtless at the most difficult times.

I became introspective and withdrew from social media because I felt I was often misunderstood. I found myself over thinking my status updates and suddenly felt inadequate and a failure. I was grieving also but didn’t really realise it.

Then we lost our little Bendy. Yes, he was just a cat but even typing his name has me in floods of tears. My doctor has explained that losing Bendy reawakened the feelings I had buried at not being able to have children. Suddenly my grief was compounded by this sudden loss being felt all over again. Bendy had been the child I could not have and now he was gone. I was devastated. All those thoughts of being alone in my old age resurfaced. Thoughts of no one coming to see me when I needed people the most began to really frighten me. Being childless hit me all over again. So, like I normally do, I tried to put it behind me. ‘These things happen and you have to get on,’ was my motto. It’s so wrong. You must grieve and you must cry. Burying your feelings will only cause them to erupt at a later date. I know because it happened to me.bendywed

On New Year’s Eve my mother in law died and I took this much harder than my husband. I was suddenly overwhelmed. My heart began to race so fast that there wasn’t a single moment in the day when it wasn’t pounding away. I was scared to move. I couldn’t even play in the garden with my two new cats because it would race even more. I was crying at the drop of a hat and felt like life had no meaning.  The smallest thing that normally I would shrug off had me in the depths of despair. I was affected by how people treated me. Facebook updates by others would have me feeling totally useless and I considered giving up writing because it seemed to me that I was an absolute failure at it.

I finally took myself to the doctors for a routine check. He immediately arranged an ECG as my heart was going too fast for his liking. Fortunately it was okay and after a few more tests he diagnosed extreme stress and delayed grief.

I do miss Mum.  I miss her terribly. I missed her when she had dementia. Even though she was never really mentally with us, I could still see her. I can’t do that anymore. Losing both parents has a profound effect on you as I’m sure many people reading this will agree. Losing a pet is no easier, especially when they have been part of your life for 16 years.

So, moving forward, I am looking into bereavement counselling.  I’ve also told myself that as a writer I am okay. I may not be J K Rowling but a lot of people enjoy my books and that’s what it is all about isn’t it?

On February 1st I have a new novel out titled ‘She Saw What he Did’ It’s a fast paced thriller.  Abby Millers’ life changes when she looks through the viewfinder of her camera and witnesses something terrible.

postershesaw

‘Abby Miller thought she had the perfect family; a good looking, loving husband and a beautiful daughter. Her life was complete. The shock discovery that her husband, Jared, had been having an affair rocked her world. So when Jared suggested a short break to the Cannard Islands, to heal their fractured marriage, Abby agreed. An idyllic holiday turns into a nightmare when Abby witnesses something terrible. Suddenly her life and the life of her daughter are in serious danger and no one seems able to help them.

I hope you will read it. You can pre-order today for 99p Here 

Meanwhile my romance ‘When Archie Met Rosie’ is doing well and has wonderful reviews. Thank you to everyone who bought it and reviewed it. Reviews make such a difference. If you want to read a love story with a difference. Then this is the one for you. Go herearchieoriginal

We have two new cats now. They are named Lytton and Schrody. They won’t replace Bendy. He was very special. But I am sure these will become very special in time too.

boys

Thanks so much for reading.

Much love

Lynda x

 

#authornotwriting. Is it time to step down?

 woman-bw-typewriter

 

I’m a writer. I love writing. I’ve been writing since I was seven. My first poem was published shortly after my seventh birthday. That was over thirty years ago. So, for me to consider not writing is a huge deal. But that’s what I’ve been considering the past year and most certainly in a big way the past few months.

Why, you ask? Are you running out of ideas?

No, in fact I have many ideas but no inclination to write them. The final straw came when I read on Facebook that Amazon have begun to remove reviews from author’s books; the reason seeming to be that the reviewer knows the author and therefore the review cannot be genuine. If you’re not aware of this and have written reviews for your favourite author, then do check to see that they are still there.

I interact with my readers. I have friended many of them on Facebook. It seems this may have to change and that upsets me beyond words. This is not the only reason I’m disillusioned. But let’s go back to where the disillusionment started.

Some time ago and I can’t put a finger on when it happened I got sucked into what I term ‘The Chart Race.’  I’m referring, of course, to the Amazon charts.

I use to sell books at £1.99. I never wanted to sell books at 99p. I was adamant when authors reduced their books to a low price that I never would. I also said that if it continued many of us would have no choice but to sell books at 99p. But low priced books continued to be seen on Amazon. Many authors sold their work for as little as 77p. You couldn’t buy a magazine for that. Readers then expect cheap books. Why wouldn’t they?

What does that say about an author’s work? It takes six months to a year to write a book, providing you are serious about it. It takes months to edit. Authors put their whole being into a story. To sell your work for less than a cappuccino in Costa coffee is degrading. It also under values your work, your time and commitment. I find it painful to say I’m only worth 99p. I’m worth a hell of a lot more. Why were books cheap to begin with? I believe it was so authors could race up the charts. The chart war began. Everyone wants to be in the charts. That’s clear because of the FB posts telling us where authors now are in this chart. Books are released at 99p every day. It is impossible to compete and I have decided I don’t want to. The prediction that 99p books would damage the book business has come true. The reason Amazon are now removing reviews is because the business of posting fake reviews is real. Sock puppeting is a term for the practice of faking favourable reviews on Amazon, in an attempt to inflate ratings of the author’s own work. It’s clearly unethical. But now it is almost impossible for Amazon to differentiate between genuine and fake reviews, so they are removing all that seem even slightly suspicious. So, a loyal reader who has enjoyed a relationship with their favourite author is now being penalised by having their reviews removed.

This is the fault of the ‘Chart Race’ A no holds barred quest to climb the Amazon chart.

Social media, of course, has the ability to make us all too aware of how well others are doing. It produces a sense of failure in many of us. We begin to question everything. Do we have a good family life? Are we successful? Do we have enough Facebook friends? Why doesn’t my husband buy me bouquets of flowers? Why hasn’t that celebrity followed me on Twitter too? Why is my hair not that gorgeous? Why can’t we afford to drink champagne on a Friday night? Why am I not that high in the Amazon chart? Why, why? Am I useless? Am I failure? And finally, if you’re an author, how can I get my book up in the chart? The answer: Drop my price.

I’ve seen authors fall out with other authors because of the chart race paranoia.  

Of course, I will be called bitchy. Or people will say ‘sour grapes’ No! I just want to write good books and sell them for a price I know they are worth. I’m worth more than 99p. I don’t need to post constantly about how well I’m doing. I don’t write for praise. I write because I love it and I love it when a reader tells me how much they enjoyed it. If they now are unable to do that, then it no longer feels like a business I want to be part of. I’m moving away from the chart race. It doesn’t interest me. I’m interested in writing good books. If readers only want 99p books then I guess they won’t have mine. I have to see it as their loss not mine.  

My latest book ‘When Archie Met Rosie’ is currently 99p on Amazon but that will go up in price soon. It’s worth far more than 99p.

I will link to my books below if you are interested. If you have bought read and reviewed my books, I thank you very much and I hope you will think £1.99 is a reasonable price to pay for a book.

https://goo.gl/PN9wcJ

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Blathering on about everything and nothing and what makes me sad.


Hello, it’s me …

How are you all? Okay I hope.

I’m hiding upstairs. Well, not hiding exactly. The Doctor has a meeting of the book group he’s in. So I’ve come upstairs with my crochet, except I decided to write a blog post instead.

It’s been a funny week. Well, it’s been a funny few weeks actually. I’ve not been entirely myself. I’ve not been anyone else, obviously. I’ve just felt a bit sad. Now, I wasn’t going to write about this, so I don’t know why I am now. I figure people want to read happy blog postings don’t they? Not that this is going to be a miserable one. I’m just digging a hole here aren’t I? I’m generally a happy person. Anyway … more on that later.

Did I tell you I’ve got builders next door? I probably have. I’ve become quite anal talking about builders. I’m going insane with them. They only seem able to bash things with a hammer and they’ve been seven months banging away with a hammer.  I’m sure they are doing a lot more than just bashing around with a hammer but from my perspective, it doesn’t seem so. Honestly, I’m really surprised more builders aren’t murdered by the neighbours. The owners of the house are coming over from America next week, so that will be fun, especially as they are supposedly going to camp in the garden. That’s what one of the builders told us. The house isn’t finished. How unfinished can a house be that you can’t actually camp in it, as opposed to the garden. Quite honestly our house has been unfinished for years but I can’t see us camping out in the garden.  Anyway, how can it not be finished after seven months of hammering?  I could have done loads in our house if I’d done all that hammering.

So, I’ve finished a novel as opposed to hammering about the house. I’ve probably rabbited on about this ad nausea. But I’m so excited because yesterday it went to number 2 in the Amazon chart in Canada. In case you don’t know about it, I’ve put all the details below. I’d like to celebrate with a glass of wine but I’m on another diet and that of course means no wine. Well, you can have wine but not if you want chocolate and if I have to choose then chocolate comes first every time. What would you choose? I need to diet. It’s unhealthy being overweight isn’t it and I hate it when I can’t squeeze into my clothes. I can’t keep buying a size larger as tempting as that is. I’ll be as big as a house soon. No, it’s time to take action. Otherwise I will outgrow everything they sell in ‘Evans’

Anyway, back to writing. It’s hard work writing. You spend all day, every day, alone, stuck in a little room having a weird relationship with people who don’t exist, at least not outside your head. Then you get confused and start calling people by your character’s name. I spent most of last year calling Andrew, Adam. If you’ve read ‘Secrets and Lies’ then you’ll know what character I’m talking about. Then your book is published and you spend days biting your nails worrying that no one will buy it and then when they do, you spend more days biting your nails worrying if they will like it. Then you spend more time worrying that your book won’t climb the charts and that you’ll be a total failure. Then it doesn’t sell as you’d hoped and you spend days crying in the loo.  It’s hellish and if that wasn’t enough, members of your own family don’t seem interested in your work. Hence the sadness I mentioned earlier. It’s odd how they just seem to make out that the books don’t exist. My own brother unfriended me on Facebook, I mean who unfriends their own family? I did think hard about writing about this on my blog. But I always seem to be hiding my feelings from everyone and I am human and it does hurt, especially when they turn their eyes away when someone else mentions your books, almost like it’s something to be ashamed of. This happened only the other day. It’s not just close family but extended family too. Am I tapping into something? Friends are very supportive but I’m cautious about people on Facebook who suddenly turn around out of the blue and accuse you of all sorts and then block you on Twitter. This happened shortly after my mum died and it was quite devastating. Their accusations were extremely hurtful. I’ve worked hard for my success, as little as it is, and I’m happy for anyone else who has success. Especially if they have huge success because it shows what is possible and that inspires me. But, just recently, I’ve wondered if it was worth all the work and the disappointment when certain people disregard it. Still, I’ll mull this one over. Meanwhile I’ve almost finished a romantic comedy. It’s an unexpected love story. I’ve really enjoyed writing about these characters and can’t wait to share the book with you. It’s a romance with a difference.

More news! ‘The Dog’s Bollocks’ has just had its cover reveal in Brazil. I love the cover. The title has changed to ‘Harriet’s Misadventures.’ It was difficult to translate ‘The Dog’s Bollocks’ apparently 🙂 I can well imagine it was!

Anyway back to the psychological thriller ‘WATCHING YOU’ Here’s the blurb.

‘When Libby receives a friend request from her dead uncle she knows it’s time to be afraid.’

Here’s what one reviewer said.

‘The book alternates between present day – after Ewan Galbraith’s release from prison, focusing on his promise that he will take revenge on everyone involved in his murder conviction – and the build up to the carnage of Millennium Eve, and the structure works really well. The writing is taut and just wonderfully edgy, and the characterisation is excellent: as well as the main characters, I particularly liked the police team – involved in the investigation of the earlier events, again handling Libby’s protection – and the light focus on their personal lives as the main story twists and turns around them. Doubts that you’re getting the full story start to creep in as the pages turn faster, the threat increasing and getting ever closer with every new text message and photo. But the “stunning twist” of the Amazon description took me totally by surprise – convincing, credible and a suitably shocking climax to a book that had me on the edge of my seat from its opening pages.’

I hope you’ll like this. Do let me know what you think. It’s currently 99p/99c to download. You can get it here

 Aw, this is so annoying. My laptop is doing the weirdest thing. It’s like it’s been taken over by a weird entity. It’s just doing its own thing and jumping all over the document. I think the cat is responsible for this. He sat on it earlier. That cat is so much trouble. Yesterday he forced himself into a hole at the back of the cupboard under the sink. He never goes into cupboards. I was quite calm at first and then when he didn’t return, well you can imagine.   He just disappeared. I was frantic and getting ready to call the fire brigade when the Doctor, all calm and collected said.

‘Shake his treats.’

Well, I thought that would get him more worked up. I mean, can you imagine being trapped somewhere and hearing your favourite sweet jar being rattled? How upsetting would that be? Anyway, in this case, it worked and he squeezed himself back through the hole much to my relief. This cat! When I was writing my thrillers I would play really scary music to get me into a tense mood. I’d be really into the novel. The music would get scarier and scarier and then suddenly the door would open and in walks the cat. I’d jump out of my skin which in turn caused him to jump out of his skin. What a pair!

Anyway I’ve been ‘blathering on’ as the character from my new comedy would say. I think you will like her. I hope you do anyway. There I go worrying again.

I’m going to make a cup of tea. I’m crazy about Angel Grey tea at the moment by The Tea Experience. They make fab teas. What’s your favourite? I’m a touch obsessed with tea. I have lots of teacups and boxes and boxes of tea. Right now I’m addicted to ‘Fikka’ by The Tea Experience.

I’ll say bye for now, until next time. I will put the links below to the books.

Much love

Lynda

x

Easter, Novels, Stress and Building Work

AVAILABLE TO DOWNLOAD ON 5TH APRIL.

YOU CAN PRE-ORDER TODAY. ONLY 99P/99C

Hi Everyone,

I can’t believe how long it has been since I last chatted to you on here. I do mean to post but things have been so hectic with writing that there just hasn’t been the time. I’ve also been contending with building work but more about that later. Not my building work, I hasten to add. I would hire decent builders to do my work. (Note to self. Calm down before blood pressure rises … again.

The exciting news and that most certainly isn’t about the builders but about my new book. It isn’t about me murdering a builder, in case you were wondering. That’s for my next novel. You see, I can’t seem to stop talking about builders. It’s like I’m suffering from builder overload. There must be a medical name for this. BST, I imagine. Builder stress disorder. Anyway enough of this, I digress and that’s no good.

So, my exciting news.

 I have a new book out. It is the third thriller. You may know me for my romantic comedy novels. Then again you may not know me at all,which is fair enough.

I was in the middle of a romance when this thriller came to me and the characters Libby and Ewan just wouldn’t leave my brain so I knew I had to write their story. I’m so pleased I did. I enjoyed writing it so much and I so hope you enjoy it.

I’m giving you a little taste of the novel in with this blog post. I hope you enjoy that.

Here’s the blurb.

Ewan Galbreith is out of prison. Libby Owen is scared. Fifteen years earlier she saw Ewan murder her aunt and uncle with their own shotgun, and now he’s coming for her.’

The novel is currently available for Pre Order at the promotional price of 99p/99c so get yours before the price goes up. The audio book will be out later in the year and the paperback is out on the 20th April. BUT the kindle version is released this coming Thursday 5th April. Hurrah. I can’t wait for you to read it.

There will be a romance out in the summer so keep your eyes peeled for that.

So, it’s been a difficult book to write as the cottage next door ‘has had a few repairs’ Those are the words of my neighbour, not mine. I have a word for those few repairs. it’s Gutting.’ I have a word for the builders too but I won’t use it here.

This whole episode has been very disappointing to me. I had a wonderful neighbour. She was American, highly intelligent. She had a doctorate and could debate any subject. I miss her terribly. They loved their old cottage which was originally an old pub. The cottage still had the old doors with lounge and saloon printed on them. There was beautiful oak panelling in one of the rooms and there is still the old pub sign outside. I live in a very quintessential English village and it’s in a conservation area which means there is a limit to what you can do so as not to ruin the beautiful aesthetics of the village. My neighbour died and left the house to her American relatives. They love it (they say) they love the history (they say) So with this in mind they proceeded to remove the lovely panelling and knock down walls. They neglected the old pub sign and knocked down an outhouse that was an old urinal from way back when. Heaven knows what else they are doing as the builders are now boarding up the windows so no one can see. Meanwhile my little cottage trembles with the thuds and the drilling as they break up floors, knock down walls, install a modern kitchen and plastic windows The builders are often rude when we ask questions. They block off the road outside our cottages, even though no one owns the road, so no one else can park there. They’ve been working on this cottage for six months. I’ve written a whole novel in that time and am halfway through another. How have I written it with the constant drilling and hammering? By putting in earplugs and then headphones on top of those. Madness!! I think perhaps I work better under stress. I remember I wrote Pink Wellies and Flat Caps when we were having our own extension. Which I have to say was much quieter by comparison. Still, on a positive note, let’s hope we get lovely new neighbours when the house is sold.

Phew … end of building work chat. Except to say it has had a detrimental effect on me and I have had to watch my blood pressure which has a tendency to go up. Onto nicer things. I hope you have a fabulous Easter with lots of chocolate. I’m attending Slimming World so no goodies for me. An Easter goodie for you. ‘Remember Me’ is 99p as a special Easter promotion. So two novels for £1.99 which can’t be bad.

REMEMBER ME https://goo.gl/Y6jSJQ

WATCHING YOU  https://goo.gl/JYytX9

HERE’S YOUR SAMPLE

‘WATCHING YOU’

Prologue

1st January 2000, 1 A.M.

 

Her bare feet pounded the gravel, the sharp stones cutting mercilessly into her skin. The wind whipped cruelly at her hair and played with her new chiffon dress until her legs became entangled within it. She pulled herself free from the material without once slowing her pace, her heart drumming in her chest. She could hear the blood pulsating in her ears like a wild war dance. Her scalp tingled. Something had touched her. She fought back a scream. It was a branch, just a tree in the blackness of the night. Keep going. She couldn’t stop. A firework boomed and lit up the night sky. She tripped, scattering the detestable gravel. A small sob escaped her lips before she dragged herself up and continued on. He’d seen her. He’d seen her. That’s all she knew.  Keep running. Don’t look back. An orchestra of colours exploded in the sky and lit up the tall iron gates of Greystone Hall ahead of her. She thought back to the house and nausea rose up in her gut. Soon she would smell the pungent odour of seaweed. Her heart beat a steady rhythm now. She knew the beach wasn’t far away. Excited voices and the sound of drunken laughter broke through her pulsating eardrums. People were partying on the beach. It was the beginning of something new, something exciting, a new start.

‘Happy Millennium,’ someone shouted.

She tripped in her haste to reach them. Her mouth connected with cold sand, it scratched her skin.

‘Help me,’ she choked. ‘Please.’

‘Had too much?’ said a voice.

There was laughter from a small group huddled around a camp fire.

‘Hold on,’ said another. The voice concerned.

She felt someone touch her.

‘Fuck, she’s bleeding.’

‘Call the police,’ yelled another.

There was scuffling and someone wrapped a coat around her. It was warm and comforting.

‘Christ, what happened?’ he said.

‘Someone shot my Aunt and Uncle,’ she moaned, trying to get up. She couldn’t. She was exhausted.

‘I think they’re dead.’