That's Life!

I'm just sorting myself out after a mysterious heart problem - where did that come from!  Then on Tuesday I broke my little toe, so I'm hobbling about on a very bruised and painful foot - can't get my shoes on so had to cancel my art group session for this week.  Yesterday I broke a tooth, would you believe.  Aie, aie!  It must be the age thing.  Bits are starting to wilt and drop off like the petals of an old rose.  However, I am back to writing and am well into Chapter Five of The Last Monsoon.  With a bit of luck and good management I might get the whole novel finished this time, though I'm not promising when.  Life does tend to get in the way more and more frequently these days, bless it.  But I'd hate to be without it, wouldn't you?  Alors, onward and upward!

"The Last Monsoon" - New Book by June Gadsby

I've been talking about it long enough - the new novel - it's time to pull out the finger and get it off the shelf where it's been for too long.  "The Last Monsoon" is going to be written. I'm getting my life back together after a long period of family and health problems and this book, my biggest challenge ever, is crying out to be finished.  I can't wait.  "The Last Monsoon"  is much more of a suspense novel than any I have written so far.  Inspired by real life, the drama revolves around colour prejudice and murder. Of course, there has to be a love story going on in there somewhere. And this time it's what I call a proper 'saga' - spanning 100 years. Here's the prologue to whet your appetite... 

"...and there you shall be hanged by the neck until you are dead..."

            The woman in the dock showed no feeling except for the slightest twitch of her dark brows.  She had shown no emotion, no remorse during the whole length of the trial that was the talk of the decade.  She remained static, facing forward, her eyes glazed as if she were in a world apart from the mass of people watching her, waiting for some response on her part.

            One man sat in silence, ignoring the tumult of applause and vulgar jeers at the passing of the death sentence.  Silent tears washed over his face that was locked in an expression of total anguish.  As people started to rush out of the courtroom to spread the news the man was jostled this way and that. He stayed, his feet rooted to the ground, his gaze fixed on the woman who did not seem to know of his presence.

            As she was led away with stumbling footsteps and head lowered, her name caught in his throat.

            "Anna!"

            But Anna, his beautiful, beloved Anna, was already gone from him forever.

First E-book available

Well, it's happened!  My readers can now download my very first e-book from Smashwords - and it will soon be available on Kindle too.  Precious Moments is my most successful novella to date and was inspired by the BBC2 radio programme Sunday Love Songs.  Despite never considering myself a writer of love stories, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this one and I hope that many more people will enjoy reading it.  Precious Moments is only the first of many of my books scheduled to appear as e-books, so please watch this space.

New Publication

Well, it's arrived!  The Large Print version of The Raging Spirit appeared in my post box yesterday.  I love the new cover.  The publishers [Thorpe] have always done me proud and the same goes for Robert Hale, the publishers of the original version.  They are all such nice people to work with.

Here's a taster:  For a woman in 1890 the journey to the wild archipelago of St. Kilda, off the coast of Scotland, is hazardous.  Untroubled and undeterred, Meredith accompanies her naturalist father on his expedition, knowing she may have to endure a long stay.  But then she meets the renowned Professor Fergus Macaulay and soon has cause to fear him.  As their boat flounders in savage seas, Meredith is jettisoned overboard.  However, she is saved by a young man called Logan, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Macaulay...and Logan's dark and terrible past is slowly revealed - at great cost to them all.

A Novel Dream

I've been having nightmares lately - due, I think, to some tablets I'm taking.  But hey, the dream I had last night, although frightening, has given me a great idea for a thriller and I couldn't wait to get to the computer this morning to record the action!  This isn't the first novel I've dreamed.  People often ask writers where they get their ideas from.  It's not always easy to describe how I get my ideas - they tend just to pop into my head, which I don't think everybody believes.  I wonder how these unbelievers would react hearing that the stories come to me in dreams!  And this time, I not only got the storyline, but the title too - and that is very good news.  No, I'm not revealing storyline or title for the moment.  Not until I get round to writing it up, so you'll just have to keep watching this space.

Fancy Dress

Last night was a hoot! It was the village carnival and I went as a French artist intent on enjoying myself - and enjoy myself I did. It was great fun and amazing how many people failed to recognise me under the berret, the long black wig tied in a pony tail and the black facial hair - all false I hasten to admit. In fact, it was so false I gradually lost bits of the beard and stuck them back on with the glue I had thought to bring with me. However, when the mustache dropped off into my dessert, giving everybody a good laugh, I decided that enough was enough and ended the evening dancing bare-faced. This was the first time in two years that I was able to dance due to crippling sciatica and arthritis and I was SO happy to do so. Mind you, this morning I'm hobbling a bit, but feeling very satisfied with my achievement.

NEW INSPIRATION

I never thought I'd be writing this post. I mean, the last thing I'd ever thought of writing was stuff for children. I write sagas and romantic suspense and thrillers for adults. Writing for children was never in the script. However, here I am three-quarters of the way through a children's book and enjoying it. What's more, this morning I woke up in the early hours with another exciting storyline for children running through my head. I just had to get up and make some notes, which upset my dogs because they are always ready for breakfast whatever the time. My rattling around in my office did not, fortunately, upset my husband, who continued snoring his way through the dawn and into the sunlight at the other end.

The book I'm writing, which is really only a practice run for whatever might follow, is a light suspense novel called The Mystery of the Strawberry House and I'm aiming it at a reading age of 8 and upwards. My two step-grandchildren, Sophie and Lottie, inspired me to write this because they keep asking their mum when they can read my books. I thought I'd better get my finger out and get one written especially for them. I had great difficulty choosing the title, but a writer friend's six-year-old grandson, Baresh, came to my rescue on that score - and now he, too, is waiting to read the finished book.

The new book idea that came to me in my sleep is a much darker storyline. Set in historic London, there's quite a bit of hardship and horror. However, since I'm the one writing it, there will also be a goodly amount of humour. Can't write anything without my humorous side showing through - often quite by accident. But that's me, in writing and in my real life.

And for those of you who are asking what's happened to my latest [and hopefully greatest] saga The Last Monsoon, I can assure you that it will soon be flowing from brain to fingers to keyboard and will be finished before Christmas - long before, hopefully. So for that event, it's still a case of "watch this space"!