This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Anna will be awarding a $50 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Thank you for having me on your blog today!
You asked me to describe my writing space or the view from outside my window, so what I thought I would do is give you an idea of how I work and the inspirational views that I use to keep my imagination fired up.
I don’t have a specific writing space, so I can’t show you my office or anything of the like. I do have a desk, of course. It’s beautiful. My husband bought it for me last year from an antiques shop and it’s a bureau style piece of furniture, where you pull down the front to write. Every time I sit at it I think of its previous owners who more than likely used it to keep up to date with correspondence and household affairs, not to write long manuscripts on. The desk has huge sentimental value because it was bought for me the day before my dear Nan passed away and on the day she died I visited her in the hospice and very proudly showed her a picture. Every time I sit at it, I remind myself to write a book that she would be proud of. She was an avid reader and instilled a love of books in me from a very young age.
I don’t always sit at my desk though, and I move it around the house. It’s currently in my bedroom but I haven’t written at it in ages; I’ve been propped on my bed, or sat at the dining room table so I can stay with my family while I write.
Enjoy an excerpt:
For the first time in a long time I want to do more than just graze my lips against another shoulder.
I can’t though.
While she is technically not a holiday maker and therefore hasn’t fallen in my ‘Not to be Approached’ criteria, I know she is not staying. And if she is not staying I know we will never do more than walk down a beach holding hands. I don’t do goodbyes of any description.
,br> Last night as we sat on the moonlight flooded beach we told each other everything, but at the same time nothing. She is eighteen, to my twenty. Her family have moved here so her sister can have a life not in the middle of London.
The girl who looks like she is made of the sun is leaving in two weeks to go to university. But that’s not all I found out. Without knowing it, she hinted at all the stuff she doesn’t want anyone to know. As we sat on the dark sand I found all the answers to the things she wasn’t telling me. They were hiding in every moment of silence that hung between us in the night air. She is lonely, frustrated, confused, all of these things and something else. There is something else there. It’s in the way she holds her body, and it’s in the way her fingers absentmindedly graze over the bangles adorning her wrists.
Something, or someone.
Something that she thinks defines her. She does not want anyone to know it. She does not want me to know it. And to be honest I’m not sure if I want to know either. Well at least I thought I didn’t until we reached her gate last night, and instead of giving her a good bye wave I stepped right into her space, holding myself back from kissing her and asked instead if she would like a surf lesson.
About the Author:
Buy the book at Amazon or Amazon UK.
a Rafflecopter giveaway