Fact versus fiction: Real life is always more mental...

Hurrah, today's the day. A Merry Little Christmas is finally published. Some books have easy births and some more traumatic ones. This one, my friends, as you've probably gathered from my other posts on the subject has had a particularly traumatic birth as this time last year when I was writing it (or supposed to be, I was in fact getting bugger all writing done) my lovely mil was dying of leukaemia and had just moved in with us. A Merry Little Christmas being very much a book about families, some of that experience has inevitably found it's way into the book. In fact, when no 4 read the blurb, she wanted to know if it was about us. You'll no doubt be relieved to know that, no it isn't about us, because the truth is however much I make things up, real life is way more mental then anything I could put on the page. And to demonstrate I'd show you a snippet from the book about the craziness of life in Cat's household. (Cat if you have read Last Christmas is a mother of four, and has a mother with alzheimer's who becomes seriously ill in the course of the new book).

Cat and her husband Noel have just come back from visiting Cat's mother, and this is the scene which they encounter when they get home...

Having established there was no more they could do for Louise, and encountering Alfie in the corridor with a bunch of flowers heading her way, Cat and Noel headed home, where they found World War III raging, as Paige had accidentally ‘borrowed’ Mel’s straighteners, and Mel was letting her have it in no uncertain terms. Meanwhile Ruby was wailing because she’d caught her finger in the mousetrap, and James was teasing her that there was a rat living under the stairs. It took a while to quieten Ruby’s wails, and get James to apologise to her, and Paige to Mel, but eventually things calmed down. Mel meanwhile had disappeared grumpily into her bedroom, so Cat gave it ten minutes before deciding to risk a chat. It was unlike Mel to be so mean to Paige. She usually reserved her fury for Cat and Noel. 

In my real world, this was the kind of thing that was happening on a near daily basis, last year...


Rosemarie had been suffering badly from constipation, so the district nurse came out to give her an enema. The moment she arrived, the engineers arrived to set up Rosemarie's emergency alarm . Just as they left, and long after the nurse had gone, and before a carer was due to arrive there was a  yelp from the front room and the inevitable was occurring...

A little while later I had to go out to an appointment. As I came out, I realised I'd missed an urgent an important call from school. I spent the next half an hour unsuccessfully trying to reach the teacher, and was feeling fairly stressed by the time I got to school. While I was standing in the playground, a kind friend pointed out that I didn't in fact, need to be there, as no 4 had an after school club.

I dashed back home to discover Rosemarie needed the loo. We could still just about manage to get her there, but she had difficulty standing and her feet kept slipping on the floor. She was also rather large, so managing her alone was pretty tricky. I'd just got her sat on the loo, when the doorbell rang and one of children came home and our decorator announced he was packing up for the evening. Said child was desperate for the loo, so I shooed her upstairs, and sent the decorator discreetly away. Ten minutes later, when I had got her sat down a new carer arrived. At that point all hell broke loose as there was an almighty yell from the back garden. No 2 had been holding the guinea pig when it jumped out of her hands and got lost in the garden. No 3 ran round to the neighbour's to see if it had gone next door, and was wailing loudly when said neighbour was out.

Ignoring the carer and mil I was trying to calm two hysterical children down, when I looked at my watch and realised now I really did have to go and fetch no 4...

As luck would have it, the GP turned out to be hiding under a nearby bush, so amazingly is still with us, but needless to say that night I was a gibbering wreck.

I have tried to put some of that chaos into Cat's life,but I don't really think I could throw as much as her as happened to me, because quite frankly I don't think anyone would believe it!

But like I say, A Merry Little Christmas isn't all about me and my family, but it is about friendship,family, marriage, motherhood and more besides. If you are kind enough to pick it up, I do hope you enjoy it!

And if you're a fan of Christmas stories, may I point you to the very lovely Carole Matthews, Milly Johnson and Scarlett Bailey who also have Christmas books out today? It's a privilege and a pleasure to be in their illustrious company!

And if you missed it last week, I did this on google hangout. Isn't the interweb marvellous?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8V5tFPt08k

And me talking about A Merry Little Christmas!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYbtxhBGikE&feature=youtu.be

Partayyy!!!

I know, I know. It's been FAR too long. All I can say in my defence is that I have been wading through rewrites of the new oeuvre, now to be called A Merry Little Christmas, and winging it's way to bookshops near you in October. I have put my poor editor under untold stress by being horrendously late, but she has been very patient about it, and so I was relieved to finally deliver on Monday, as last night was the Harper Collins author party, and it's so much more relaxed if you don't have to grovel...

The HC party is one of the highlights of my year. (What can I say? I don't get out much.) It is also a stonkingly good event. For the last two years it's been held in the Orangery at Kensington Palace (there's posh), and it's such a lot of fun. For a start there's the obligatory celeb spotting (last year Dan Stevens & David Walliams), this year David Nobbs on the way in - I actually spoke to him but didn't realise till afterwards, and  a couple of famous looking women who it was on the tip of my tongue to say hello to, then I realised I only knew them off the telly, but better then that, is meeting up with lots and lots of author mates. Last night did not disappoint, and I was delighted to catch up with my lovely friends Caroline Smailes, Miranda Dickinson, Victoria Connelly, and meet Laura Ziepe, Erin Kaye, Fiona Gibson and Nik Perring. We were all looked after immensely well by the attentive (and devilishly handsome) young waiters, who had the knack of appearing with more champagne, just as soon as your glass was empty...And we were also thoroughly spoilt by the fabulous brilliant team at Avon, who made sure glasses were never empty and we were fed sushi (which I've never had before) and cake. Thank you ladies, I had a blast.

Sadly I never know when to call it a day, and suddenly realising it was 10.20, had to hot foot it for a cab (again, the wonderful staff calmly walked into the road and hailed me a cab, obviously aware I wasn't quite up to the task) to get me to Victoria. The cab took FOREVER. And I ended up getting to Victoria after 11.30, having just missed the last train home. Stupidly I queued for a burger and didn't take the wise advice of the guys in the queue behind me who were going my way and discovered that if they left burgerless and headed for Clapham Junction they'd pick up the Waterloo train. Apart from sushi and champagne I hadn't had much in the way of sustenance...

So thanks to my greed, I decided to just get on trains and keep going south as far as I could. Always a good plan. Which is how I ended up in West Croydon some time after midnight, suddenly the last person in the carriage. I then had to hot foot it over the bridge to catch a train to Sutton, where I also ended up the last person in the carriage, but miraculously all the other carriages were full as I still had to wait for a cab. I then spent a small fortune on getting home, but I had a very chatty and helpful cab driver and I was ringing Spouse with updates on my whereabouts (oh how times change - in my salad days I once fell asleep on the train and ended up at Dorking, with no money and no means of communication. I BEGGED the driver to stop at my station, where I then had to climb over an eight foot high fence to escape), so I made it home by 1am. A slightly more epic journey home then intended, but champagne will see you through a lot of travel trauma.

It is also exceptionally good for ensuring your head isn't too bad in the morning. An entirely higher class of hangover all together.

Like I say, I don't get out much, but it's always a blast to be with like minded people, talking bollocks (or not) about books, and best of all getting to be a grown up and an author for the night. Even if I don't always behave in an entirely grown up fashion....

The Summer Season

Woohoo! Here is the cover for my new book, The Summer Season. ISN'T it lovely? Hats off once again to the wonderful designers at Avon. They really do a fabulous job.

I know Joanna Trollope last year, made a very sensible and rational plea for cover designers not to always go pink and girly on romantic fiction covers, but... there is a disconnect with what the sales team says the market wants, what in an ideal world we'd like to see, and what people will actually go and buy. I know this is a very commercial cover, and I love it, so there.

(Am particularly pleased with the pansies aka heartsease round the borders, as heartsease has an important part to play in the story)