A new neighbour moves next door. They seem nice enough. You go to their house for dinner. It’s a nice house. And then things start to change. The vase in your house is suddenly on their landing. The colour of your kitchen becomes the colour of their kitchen. How much of your life will SHE take? ‘Remember Me’ is an unsettling and on the edge of your seat thriller. Clare is glad when the new neighbours move in. It’s nice to have a new friend. But as time moves on Clare begins to fear for her baby and her own sanity. As a writer the thought of changing the genre that I normally write was a bit nerve-wracking but I decided to go for it because I had such great ideas in my head and after all, a writer is a writer. We surely can’t be expected to write the same things over and over. So, my new release is a psychological thriller. The next book will be a romantic comedy again. It’s quite nice to chop and change a bit. I’m very much hoping my readers will enjoy this new book. You can buy it at the promotional price of 99p or if you’re part of Amazon’s prime subscription then you can borrow it for FREE. Go here to purchase
Enjoy Lynda xx
I’m really excited to reveal the cover of my new novel titled Remember Me. I so hope you enjoy it. It’s a psychological thriller so a move away from my normal romantic comedy. Please let me know what you think.
Remember Me will be available to pre-order at the end of March
Just a little post to tell you that my novel Coconuts and Wonderbras is now free on Amazon,
I’m a bit late telling you this but there is still time to get your freebie. You can pop to Amazon or the daily deal as linked below and … enjoy.
Get yours here
In the meantime check out my new novel cover reveal. The novel will be released in April. Let me know what you think?
Gosh, I can’t believe I haven’t written in here since November 2016. What have I been doing with myself, aside from eating Kit Kats untill I look like one? It’s been so long that even WordPress has changed. What’s worse, I forgot my password to get in. Let me tell you getting back into WordPress was harder than breaking into the Bank of England. Not that I’ve tried to break into the Bank of England, I should hasten to add. The important thing is that I’m back. I was thinking about this blog in bed the other night and thought if only I had the time like I used to. I then realised that I actually have more time now than I ever had. When I worked part-time I seemed to find the time to write in this blog, write novels, cook dinner and keep on top of the housework. Now, I work at home full-time and get nothing but books written. The less said about housework and the dinner, the better. That’s great, but how is it I have more time but get less done? Time management, I hear you say. Quite right too. Less procrastination and more work. So, today I am editing and I thought why not take a break and write a post for the blog while listening to the soundtrack from ‘La La Land’
So what’s been happening. Do I have news? Yes I do. I have a new novel coming out soon. It doesn’t seem that long ago that my last little baby came out. Here it is just in case you had forgotten. You may remember that ‘Phoebe’s Smith Private Blog’ had two different covers. I’d love to know which one you preferred. Leave a comment. Anyway back to novels. ‘Phoebe Smith’ is £1.99 on Amazon. Better still you can borrow it for free if you are with Amazon Prime. Take a look. You can get it here All my books apart from a few can be borrowed for free on Amazon. Check it out. I’m also delighted that ‘The Dog’s Bollocks’ popped back into the charts this month. Borrow that for free too. Check it out here
My new novel is due to be released early April. I’ve gone for a change in genre this time and it is a psychological thriller. I do hope you like those. It’s very gripping and I’ve just got the cover. I love it. I’ll be sharing it soon on Facebook and Twitter and there will be the usual competitions on my Facebook page so do join us here if you haven’t already. I’ve been holed up here in my writing room working hard on the new one. I so hope you like it. There will be lots of lead up on my Facebook page so keep your eyes peeled. My little companion in my writing room is my lovely cat ‘Bendy’
About six months ago we almost lost him. One Sunday morning he just collapsed. There was no warning. He couldn’t move or do anything other than sleep. I even had to pick him up from the garden after he had a pee. Not ideal! Me being me, I went into a massive panic, while my husband, AKA as the doctor, kept remarkably calm. we drove to the vet. That is the doctor did. I was shaking so much I could barely hold onto the cat basket. The vet diagnosed heart failure and gave little Bendy a week to live (ooh deep breaths at the memory) So we brough him home with his meds. I needed some Valium for myself at this point. Oddly he bucked up the next day, although he was still cautious going up and down the stairs and slept more than usual. But the next day he bucked up even more and the doctor and I started to get a bit suspicious about the flea preparation we had used on him a few days previous to his collapse. I then Googled, which I’m prone to do about any illness, only to discover other pet owners having had a similar problem with their pet after giving them flea treatment. I’m now dead against flea products. I think they’re too toxic for little cats. Does anyone know an alternative treatment for dealing with fleas? Please let me know.
So, that’s it for the this post. I hope it wasn’t too boring. I’m now going to edit and then write another post about our holiday. That will be a more humourous one, so hold onto your hats 🙂
Lots of love
Life is certainly never static is it? After months and months of chronic knee I finally went private to find out what was going on. This only after being told that my appointment to see a consultant would take eighteen months. Eighteen months, I don’t know about you but that seemed a lifetime away to me. I love the NHS but it certainly doesn’t seem to like me. Or maybe my GP doesn’t like me. I discovered my flat feet were crippling me. Who’d have thought such a simple thing could cause so much pain? Insteps and a few months later and I feel like a new woman. Well, leg wise anyway. A woman I am beginning to detest being.
So, I thought I’d share the ongoing saga I am having with my GP. I’m attempting to see the funny side of things as I’m sure there must be one. I’m also hoping someone going through a similar thing may contact me to share. God knows I’m in need of sharing.
Before you read on, be aware this post does mention female bits. Okay, brace yourself for the ride. Ready? Here we go then.
About three months ago I began to feel just a touch uncomfortable ‘down there’ My mum always referred to it as ‘down there’ and oddly enough so did a very young gynaecologist I saw. There was me trying to be all technical and knowledgeable by saying, ‘The sore area is on the right labia, high up by the vagina.’ We finally just referred to it as ‘down below.’ I must admit it is far simpler. I also worry I’m saying the names wrong. I probably know the parts of a car better than I do ‘down there’
Anyway, I’m waffling as usual. So, the first thing I do is go to my GP. Sensible I thought. I phone for an appointment. I’m then triaged as I say I really can’t wait three weeks! I’m told my doctor will phone me. She does. She then tells me they are too overcome and I’d have to go to another surgery in the town closest to me. Off I trot. I see a nice doctor there who says she can’t see anything ‘down there.’ Asks me if sex is painful and then suggests something to numb the soreness. I’m not over the top happy but take her prescription. A week later I’m still the same. I phone my GP again and it’s arranged for me to see a female doctor at my own surgery. Off I pop. I explain the soreness and she has a look.
‘Ooh,’ she says surprised, ‘I can see a lesion.’
‘Oh really, I guess that must be the problem,’ I reply.
‘It looks like an ulcer.’
‘Right, what do you do for that?’
A sensible question I thought.
‘I think we should take swabs.’
Great, this was what I wanted to hear.
‘Shall I test for everything?’ she asks.
Now, not being a doctor, I have no idea what everything is. Clearly she doesn’t need to check me for Syphilis or any other STD. I’m happily married to my second husband. He is happily married to me. I was previously married for a long period to another man who wasn’t the type to put it about either. You know your men better than the doctors’ right?
‘Not the things I’m unlikely to have,’ I say.
‘I think we should test for Herpes,’ she says.
I’m a bit open-mouthed for a second and then stupidly find myself wondering if you can get Herpes any other way. I’ve not even worn a tampon in over a year, besides you can’t catch it from them can you? I try not to be insulted.
‘There’s no way I have Herpes,’ I say, trying not to sound affronted.
‘You could have had it from the age of nineteen,’ she says confidently.
‘Without symptoms? I ask.
I’m seriously distrustful of her judgements now.
‘It would be odd that you’ve had no symptoms,’ she says.
So here I am at the age when the only thing I should be worried about is the menopause and this twenty something woman is telling me I’ve been walking around with Herpes for over thirty years without any symptoms and now wham bam here they are. Yes, right, you don’t trust her judgement either do you?
She takes the swabs and I hit the ceiling. She tests for thrush and Herpes. I tell her I have neither. She doesn’t listen to me. I have no voice.
I trot back home and phone for the results a few days later. The receptionist isn’t allowed to give me the results so I wait for the doctor to phone. She doesn’t. It’s on her list but she doesn’t phone. I call the next day and ask could she phone as I’m still in discomfort and need something to ease the soreness. I’m now struggling to pee. And let me tell you, I pee a lot.
‘She’s the duty doctor today,’ I’m told. ‘So she’s very busy.’
Excuse me, but am I not a patient?
I patiently explain she was supposed to have phoned me yesterday and didn’t. It’s a Friday and I don’t know what to do now the tests have come back. It gets to five and still no phone call. The phones shut down at six at the surgery. I phone The Doc (Andrew my husband) in tears. He phones them and says how dissatisfied we are. They promise to phone. They still haven’t by six. He goes in on his way home and says he won’t leave until they call me. She finally does and tells me I will need to be referred and it will take six weeks but as they saw a lesion she thinks I should be referred to the cancer clinic using the two-week wait. I question whether it could be a hormonal thing as my breasts are also sore. She doesn’t know. I ask if she thinks it could be serious and she says ‘The other doctor saw a lesion so best to be sure.’ I agree and wait for the appointment. At least I know I don’t have thrush or Herpes. It’s a start.
A week or so later and off I pop again to see a lovely gynaecologist. We chat about ‘down there’ and finally he has a look ‘down there.’ He then asks if I’d like to know what is wrong with me? Dumb question, but still.
‘Nothing,’ he says.
‘Right,’ I say. ‘So is it Atrophy then?’ I ask pulling up my knickers. I’d worn my best frilly pair. Well, last time I got caught out with a hole at the back. Very embarrassing.
‘Ah, how do you know these things?’ he asks.
‘Ah, I like to know what’s going on with my body,’ I say.
‘Right,’ he says, ‘You need some local Oestrogen for ‘down there’
‘Oh, I say, ‘I take HRT, wouldn’t that have been enough?’
‘Some women need both.’
‘So it’s okay to use both?’
You can’t say I don’t ask questions.
Off I pop. A few days later I phone my GP and ask them if I can have the medication. They say they will get the doctor to phone. She doesn’t phone. I’m tearful. I phone again the next day and she finally calls back and tells me I can’t have it if I’m on HRT and that she needs the letter to come back first and will also contact the menopausal clinic to speak to my consultant there. I tell her the gynaecologist said it was okay. No one believes me. I contact the menopausal clinic. They send an email saying I can have the medication. The gynaecologist writes and says I can have the medication. My doctor still doesn’t give it. I phone again to be told she is very busy and that she needs the letter first. I tell them it is on their system as I can see it. That day I get no medication. The next day I phone again. I wait until six, no phone call, no medication. Finally it gets to Thursday and I phone again. This time no reply. I jump in my car and go there. I’m seething, in pain and totally fed up. I demand the medication and tell the woman at the pharmacy at the surgery that I’m not going without it. She then tells me my doctor has gone home. She had messages to contact me. She ignored them.
I stand my ground and a doctor gives me the medication as soon as he hears what is happening.
Your opinion? I’d like to hear it.
Meanwhile happy news. While all that has been going on ‘down there’ ‘up here’ a new book has been released and I’m so excited. It’s already getting rave reviews and it’s only **99p** at least for a short time. Don’t miss out.
I’ve loved writing this book and I so hope you enjoy reading it. It’s a fab read for Christmas. Well, I would think so, wouldn’t I?
Lots of love
Ten years ago or more I created a group named Childless Support. I created the group to support women, like myself, who could not have children. I’m known for my activism in this subject as there are many articles written by, or about me, concerning my childlessness and the fact that I founded the group, which now has over 1,000 members. I have spoken on radio and to the media on the subject. However, seven years ago I stepped back from the group after feeling I had given all I could. I did stay in the group but kept a low profile. The past year I have been saddened at how the group has declined. The bitterness and division within it is not something I ever encouraged. I have now been driven to publicly distance myself from the group, as I do not want to be connected in any way with the group it has become. I created a group that supported women who could not have children. It was for women who were childless not by choice. There are women who choose to be childless (childless by choice) and it was always clear that Childless Support was not a group for them. However, I never encouraged bitterness or negativity towards women who could have children or towards women who chose not to have children. The group I ran was happy for a woman if she finally managed to conceive. The group was a positive one, helping women to cope with their isolation of being childless in a positive way. It discouraged bitterness and bad feeling towards women who could have children and focused on moving forward and finding ways of living a life without children. We also accepted that for many this was an extremely difficult thing to do and supported them as much as possible in their struggle. We never ever excluded a woman who was still trying to conceive. I only requested that if a woman should become pregnant that she kindly left and that we wished her all the best. Many of these women I stayed in contact with.
Not anymore it seems. The groups’ admins have changed all that and seem very threatened by me. So much so that as soon as I state an opinion I am shot down. I have now been blocked from the group I once founded, supposedly, for being negative and rude. I was actually voicing valid points and emphasising what a support group is supposed to do. The admins had changed the criteria and were now saying that women who were TTC (Trying to conceive) were now no longer welcome. I’m not sure how these criteria can be enforced. Does this mean the woman should not have unprotected sex or does it mean she should not be having fertility treatment? My argument was that to change a group’s ethos in this way, clearly to please some, (I was informed it was for the masses) would mean excluding women who were already members. That didn’t seem fair to me. While some women were rude to TTC women during this discussion, it seemed I was the only one who was blocked. The administrator who was clearly threatened by me, made comments to me and then blocked me before I could respond. She did the same again when I attempted to email her to explain my points and to also remind her that I had offered to help with the group but that she had not responded to my message. She responded rudely by telling me how rude and negative I was and before I could respond, again blocked me. I previously argued that members posting Memes with nasty comments about women with children was offensive and that as a member I was distressed to see it. Again I was told if I was not happy with the group I could leave. Does this sound like a support group or a ‘I hate women trying for babies and women who have babies’ group’?
I have since had numerous emails from members telling me how upset they are with the group. So, I have now taken the sad step of publicly distancing myself from it. This is NOT the group I created but something completely different. If it is the group for you then fair enough. I just need to state clearly I am not connected with it at all!
I hope to start a new group in the near future.
So, as I couldn’t argue the criteria on Facebook I thought I would argue it on my blog. If you think it makes sense then I take my hat off to you. I did not write the following. The guidelines that I wrote for this group were removed, which I have no argument with. Like I said, I’m not connected with this group at all.
Here are their guidelines with my thoughts in brackets.
The pain of being childless is Un-explainable. (Strange wording. I would have said unbearable. I certainly can explain my feelings) This is a support group to help people get through the pain of being childless. To help support, listen and vent to each other as we journey through our lives being Childless.
This is not a group for people that have had biological children. ( I would think that was obvious)
This is not a group for those who chose to not have children. (Correct wording is childless by choice)
Please respect this group is for those of us who cannot have children, without making a choice. (Correct phrasing is childless not by choice)
Our group is not a fertility group.
This is also NOT a TTC Trying to Conceive Group (Terribly unfair. A high percentage of childless not by choice women never give up hope of having a child. Why should they be excluded?)
Please do not request to join unless you cannot have children & need support coping with that. If this isn’t the case, or you get it by mistake, you will be removed. (Get what by mistake?) This is an exclusive group for childless not by choice individuals/couples. Male and female welcome.
****Wanting to join us? (why are there stars?) Send us a request! (Why is there an exclamation mark) You’ll receive an email from Mel Gray who is an Admin once we receive your reply, we’ll approve your request :)Please check for email in your others folder. If I do not receive a response from the email within 14 days I will delete your request. (What if you go on holiday and don’t have access to the internet. Your bad luck I guess)
The good thing about this response is that this time if anyone from the group wants to respond then I have the power to allow their comments to be published or as the admins seem to enjoy doing, blocking them.
I’m really excited to release the second in my Little Perran country romances. ‘A Village Romance’ This one is slighter racier than ‘A Christmas Romance’ and somewhat funnier. I thought I would give you a free sample of the first chapter. It was such fun and a little departure from my normal comedies and I do love writing romance, especially with a touch of erotica. And this one certainly had me fanning myself. It wasn’t quite Lady Chatterley but more Poldark, so I’m told. I rather think it is a bit Lady Chatterley-ish. Get the book and meet the sexy Rafe Wylde and decide for yourself. It’s only 99p. Get away from the referendum for a while.
You can buy your copy here
And hitting Amazon, Kobo and all other good bookshop on Saturday is ‘A Summer Romance’ the sequel to ‘A Village Romance’ and it goes tits up in that one. Lot’s of racy stuff in this one. If you love the country and you love romance then you’ll enjoy this.
I’m now back to writing my next comedy. Talking of which ‘Perfect Weddings’ is still 99p but not for much longer. So pop over quickly. Meanwhile below is Chapter One of ‘A Village Romance’ ENJOY!
Chapter One of a Village Romance
‘Move to the country?’ protested Billy Baxter. ‘Why the hell would I want to move to the country? It’s all tractors and cow dung out there. Anyway, I don’t speak the lingo. I’ve got a nice little pad here thank you very much.’
‘I thought, a little break, you know, might get the old creative juices going again,’ he said, and gave a false laugh. Old was the operative word, he thought, but didn’t say it. The fact was he had no idea what to do with Billy Baxter these days.
Billy stopped strumming his guitar, shook his shoulder-length hair back and grinned.
‘What are you talking about? The creative juices have never stopped flowing. I tell you, this new one is my best yet.’
Ian took a swig of his lager and said,
‘The trouble is Billy, no one else has heard your new one yet to decide if it’s your best. I can’t get anyone to play it. Radio 1 just doesn’t air your kind of stuff any more, and Radio 2 …’
‘Radio 2,’ scoffed Billy. ‘That’s for old has-beens. I’m not Val bloody Doonican. You won’t get me in a bleeding rocking chair.’
Ian was silent. Billy whipped off his guitar and grabbed a lager.
‘So you want to farm me out to the country?’ he said sulkily. ‘And what does that achieve? Everyone rediscovers me when I’m not around is that it?’
‘The last time the press discovered you, you were on a boat with some bird half your age sitting on your …’
‘Yeah, I remember it well,’ Billy smiled.
‘Not the image you need Billy. Anyway, you could do with a rest. You’re burnt out,’ said Ian with faked sympathy.
‘Everyone else goes to The Priory and I go to the bloody country,’ said Billy sourly.
‘I don’t think you can afford The Priory. You’ve got to be doing really well to enjoy the privilege of having a meltdown there.’
‘But the bloody country, come on Ian. It’s all barn dances and Women’s Institutes. It’s not me,’ Billy said as he picked up his guitar again.
‘I think it will be good for your image. It suits Elton John and that lot,’ said Ian, resting his hands on his beer belly.
‘It suits Elton John to be a poof. I suppose you want me to become one of them too. Anyway, they play Elton John on Radio 1 …’
‘You’re not exactly in Elton John’s league and …’
‘What about Graham whatsisface? I thought you were getting me on his show.’
‘They’ve got a lot of celebs lined up …’
‘I’m a celeb for Christ’s sake.’
‘New celebs Billy, like Finn Morrison and …’
‘Huh,’ scoffed Billy. ‘Have you heard his record, it’s …’
‘No one calls them records any more Billy,’ sighed Ian. ‘Anyway they turned you down for the Graham Norton show.’
Billy shook his head in despair.
‘What about Desert Island Discs?’
‘That’s Radio 4,’ Ian reminded him. ‘You hate Radio 4.’
‘That’s true. I do,’ agreed Billy thoughtfully.
They sat in silence for a few moments and sipped their lagers.
‘How about one of those reality programmes?’ Billy said finally. ‘I can do that. I can cope in the jungle. That will give the record a boost.’
‘Forget about the jungle, Billy. You just said you wouldn’t cope in the country.’
‘You’re my manager and the best you can come up with is that I retire to the country. I’m only fifty-six. Surely you can set me up with some gigs.’
‘I’ve tried Billy, I’ve tried. There’s a lot of competition …’
‘Huh, you call this new crap ‘music’? If that’s competition then I’ll eat my arse,’ he scoffed.
‘I’m thinking we could build a new image for you. You know, like Paul O’Grady and Julian Clary. They went to the country and then …’
‘One ended up on Strictly Come Dancing and the other’s doing a bloody animal show. Christ, I hate animals and I can’t dance for toffees. Why do you keep lumping me in with bum bandits?’
‘Gays, Billy. People call them gays these days. It’s image building mate. If you look like a country gent we may have a chance of getting you on I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here!’
Billy’s eyes sparkled.
‘I do wish you would stop talking like you’re stuck in the eighties,’ Ian sighed.
‘And you think moving to the country will be good for my image?’ Billy asked doubtfully.
‘I’ll put it out to the media. We may even get a story.’
Billy punched the air.
‘We can say I’m going there to meditate and stuff. That I’m into tantric sex like Sting. They like all that. We can do some photo shoots of me in those yoga positions. Isn’t there some charity in Nepal I can support? How about if we give Richard Gere a bell, he’s into all that stuff isn’t he?’
Ian closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
‘Let’s keep it a bit more low key shall we?’ he said patiently. ‘Keep the press guessing for a bit and then we’ll give them a story. I know the break up with Clara was tough but you’ve got to stop knocking off twenty-five-year-olds. It looks a bit, you know …’
‘It looks a bit what?’
‘Immature. You look like you’re going through a midlife crisis. Give yourself a nice break. A good bit of image building is what we need. The press will be crying out to know what’s happened to you.’
Not that they could really give a shit, he thought, but didn’t say that to Billy. There was a lot Ian thought but never said.
‘You know Clara’s asking for dog bloody maintenance?’ scoffed Billy. ‘That bleeding dog is better groomed than I am.’
‘That’s not hard, Billy.’
‘She feeds it caviar. I bloody ask you. It nearly bit my whatsit off once. All I was trying to do was get into my own bed. It was my bed of course. Comes to something when the only threesome you have with your tart is with her bloody poodle.’
‘And you really should stop calling her a tart in interviews, Billy. It doesn’t look good. That’s partly why she’s taking you to the cleaners.’
‘So where in the country do you think I should go?’ he asked. He pulled open two more cans and gave one to Ian.
‘Here,’ said Ian, and handed him an estate agent’s leaflet. ‘There’s a nice little place for rent. Higgledy Piggledy Cottage in a Cotswold village, you can’t get more country than that.’
Billy looked at the leaflet and shook his head.
‘Who’d have thought it, me, Billy Baxter in the country. I’ll be herding chickens next.’
‘It looks peaceful. It will do you the world of good,’ smiled Ian.
Billy studied the leaflet and then picked up his guitar.
‘Sounds a real drag but if you think it will improve my image …’
Ian lifted his can in celebration.
‘Here’s to your new life in Little Perran,’ he said, barely able to hide the relief from his voice.