Saturday, 21 May 2011


Goodness me, is it that time again? Doesn't time fly and to think we all made it through the week. Either the Rapture didn't take place or none of us made the grade. Oh well, c'est la vie.
So, back to my six. Once again, I am posting from my up and coming MuseItHot Publishing June release, Cold Cold Heart. In this scene, Rachel Warner sets eyes on the famous singer-song writer, Daniel Haines, for the first time.

He wore almost black hair closely cropped, drawing attention to a well-sculptured profile. He was good-looking but not in a male model almost-too-perfect way nor did he possess a boy band laugh-you-into-bed cheekiness. Daniel Haynes was more the boy-next-door type; the kind of boy whose mother dressed him in Thomas the Tank Engine jumpers until age twelve.
He turned from Mai to look at her and her breath caught. Daniel Haines had the most beautiful, luminous, deep blue eyes; eyes big and soulful, fringed by the longest lashes Rachel had ever seen on a man but it was the way he looked at her that sent her heart fluttering. His gaze seemed to penetrate deep into her soul—as if he could read her innermost thoughts, feel her every mood.

Want to read more about this wee honey of a man? Here is a short excerpt...

The lights dimmed again and a crescendo of noise crashed over her head as fifty thousand people leapt to their feet and Daniel’s band ran out on stage.
“Come on!” Grabbing her by the hand, Lynn dragged Rachel from the comfort and security of her seat and plunged her into the screaming multitudes already surging up against the metal barrier. It was okay for Lynn. Years of rugby scrumming with her huge Belfast shipyard brothers and cousins stood her in good stead. She pushed and clawed her way to the front with Rachel clinging to her hand for dear life. Before she could scream an angry protest, a massive tsunami roar erupted and Daniel stepped out on stage.
In the midst of the Brazilian wave of fans, Rachel found she could not move. This man who strutted and danced from one end of the stage to the other, working the crowd, playing and teasing the girls into a frenzy as he smiled down, flirting, seducing the adoring audience into a state of near-hysteria—this was not the same man who, hours before, had been in her office, sitting at her desk, drinking coffee and listening to her trials and tribulations. As she watched him now, the worshipped idol of thousands, it all seemed like a dream.
He approached the edge of the stage and for one heart-stopping moment he seemed to stare right at her. A warm flush spread up from her toes to the roots of her hair. At her side, Lynn, in a state of near collapse, jumped up and down, screaming and twisting Rachel's arm. “Did you see that?”
Above the pounding beat of drums and guitars, Rachel just about made out her ravings.
“He looked at me! Oh, I think I'm going to have an orgasm.”
For the next hour, Rachel was pushed prodded and kicked (more often than not by Lynn). She was desperate to get back to her seat. It was impossible. Wedged tight against the barrier, hordes of screaming girls hemmed them in. With hands stretched up, they cried out for their god to touch them.
By now the Golden Boy had removed his leather jacket—much to the collective joy of thirty thousand or more females—displaying a toned torso beneath a tight-fitting, V-neck T-shirt that didn't quite meet hipster jeans: black naturally! Lynn retrieved a pair of her weeniest knickers from her pocket.
“You dare, Lynn Hudson!” Rachel shrieked in her ear. Grabbing the scrap of black lace, she stuffed it back where it came from.
“You are so not fun! Everyone does it. Oh, I can't believe it!” She dug her nails into Rachel's by now black and blue arm. “This is my favorite.”
So far every song had been her ‘favorite.’ Lynn could still do groupie with the best of them.
Slowly Rachel relaxed, caught up in the magic of Daniel Haines. The lights dimmed and when he moved to sit at a magnificent grand piano, her enjoyment turned to rapture. He mesmerized her. His fingers flew over the keys and the cacophony of noise abated. Hushed silence filled the auditorium. He held the crowd spellbound as his beautiful but powerful voice delivered a haunting ballad. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted when the pure notes soared up into the roof. She wanted to cry. She wanted to stay in the moment forever.

See you next week for more of the delectable Daniel. Meanwhile, check out some more posting at Six Sentence Sunday

Thursday, 19 May 2011


I have been asked to describe my typical writing day. Oh dear, must I? Okay, confession time. I haul myself out of bed between 10am-10.30 {hey - I watch dvds til 2am}. First chore - on goes the coffee machine. I cannot function without my morning dose of good strong caffeine, all washed down wwith a lovely warm croissant straight from the bakers across the road.

While coffee is brewing, I release my agent from his cage and top up his food bowl. Next, follows the ritual dance where by Sir Maximus runs circles around my feet before settling down on the sofa with he best mates, his cuddly dog and yellow duck. There he will sit and watch CNN for hours.

Time to boot up pc and, with coffee and croissant in hand, I trawl through the mound of emails. Then - its facebook time! No day is complete without checking out the frivolous but often informative world of FB. Mr. Zucherman, I salute you.

That out the way, I will settle down to write any blog posts needed doing before attacking any edits. If I have a completed ms I then get cracking on transfering my illegible notes to Word. A time-consuming task as I am not a red-hot typist. Somewhere between now and 2pm, I release I have a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, a mound of laundry falling out of the washing machine and I haven't even considered what to cook - thus earning me, for the fifth year running Crap Mother of the Year award.
{ME - NOT}

When do you actually write, I hear you all ask, as in create? Can you believe when I am work, sitting behind the reception front desk? In those blissful couple of hours when most guests are either siesting or out by the pool, I revel in silence and I can really concentrate.
I suppose, one day, I will have to do some work and give out hotel keys to guests and probably answer the phone from time to time but, until then, I sit back in my chair, pen and pad in hand, create masterpieces
and hang up my Genius at Work sign.
P.S I do hope my boss does not subscribe to my blog.


Monday, 16 May 2011

Monday Muser's Mad Question Time Myself - Secret Girl Crush

Good morning, folks. It seems I have misplaced my guest again or, perhaps my question this week has her running for cover. I have to admit it is a tad naughty. It all stems from a tongue in cheek conversation I had with a friend a couple of years back. We were playing trivial pursuit and, quite calmly, she stated , if she was a lesbian, then Angelina Jolie woould be her chosen partner. You can imagine the hilarious debate that followed. So, that was the question I posed to my guest. I shall now pose it to myself. If I were to have a girl crush, who would it be?I must be clear; when I say crush, I don't mean in a sexual context but, rather, a woman with whom we are attracted to for what ever reason. I am greedy. I have picked three.

My first and long time girl crush is Uma Thurman. When I saw her kick ass in Kill Bill, I was hooked. I love the fact that she is not pretty pretty but is so attractive, not to mention a great actress.

Second - has to be Lady Gaga. How how I would love to hang out with her. What fun we would have. I admire her talent, her style but, above all, I love her sense of humour and tongue n cheek approach to life and herself.

Last but not least - Stevie Nicks. My favouite female artist of all time and writer and singer of many amazing songs. Sixty two years old and still so gorgeous and still making wonderful music. Stevie - I salute you.

So come on, folks; own up. Who is your secret girl crush? This question is also open to any of you lovely gay men out there. If you had one day to be staright - who would you want to be straight with? I am so looking forward to the answers on this one.