Cover Reveal Day…

I don’t know which I find more exciting. That lovely feeling you get when there is an acceptance letter in your inbox, which I can only describe as being almost like a shiver running down your spine before you get that kick of adrenaline in your stomach, or seeing the front cover of your book for the very first time.

Both moments are special, to be honest. Both moments are wonderful. But for me, seeing my book in its actual book form, instead of just as a word document I’ve laughed and cried over for nearly a year, is pretty amazing. Suddenly, with a cover and an ISBN number and that lovely copyright page with my name on it… suddenly, my book seems more real. Suddenly, it seems like a book in the flesh, rather than just the book in my mind.

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I have to say, I love the cover that was chosen for my book (thankfully I don’t have to choose the cover or the title of the novel- writing it was hard enough without that stress to add to it). It’s dark and atmospheric and harks back to the romance paperbacks I consumed in my teenage years. But more than that, I love the fact that the couple on the cover aren’t caught in an embrace or a moment of passion. They stand away from each other, as they do in the beginning of the book. This cover is just as I pictured Sophy and Fitz in an early scene of the novel, before they start on the path to falling in love. I adore it. I even love the fact that Sophy has been dressed in blue, which is my favourite colour, and one I wear often.

So there’s something spectacular about seeing this cover for me, in knowing something that was only in my head has been captured and bound in this image. And I’m so glad I get to share it with you.

(author logs off, begins internet search for a replica of the dress on the cover with matching sash).

Baby steps…

Here it is. My long promised blog site.

And yes, I know.

It’s somewhat… delayed.

I do have reasons for this, my own ineptitude where ‘website design’ is concerned being the primary. Strange how I can shop brilliantly on the internet while discussing Star Wars meta and feminist issues on Twitter, all the while uploading images to Instagram, and yet the thought of actually having my own website leaves me terrified. I thought I was technology savvy, but there you go. Even now I’m sitting here with my grape smoothie (I’m in the café of my gym wearing yoga leggings, yet to decide if I will actually be doing any yoga today) wondering if I am getting this right.

And then there are the secondary reasons for this delay, the things I will simply list under a wide heading of ‘life’. My children, my work, my obligations, and the desire to be more than a passing acquaintance to my husband. You know what I mean. ‘Life’.

When I was younger, I had this image in my mind of what being an author would be. I always wanted to be a romance novelist, and even now, if I sit down to write something ‘non-romantic’ a love story will creep in anyway. So I thought I would be like Barbara Cartland, dressed head to toe in baby-pink and sipping a chilled white wine while writing at my desk, my handwriting a beautiful cursive.

Well, I’m no Barbara Cartland, and my handwriting is a terrible scrawl that even my son’s year 2 teacher frowns at. I tend to write in long stretches either very early in the morning or late at night, typing furiously on my laptop, surrounded by either piles of washing or children’s toys or school projects. Sometimes I’ll write with a child under the crook of one arm, while Teen Titans Go! or Scooby-Doo or Frozen or Little Einstein’s plays in the background. I’ll have a mug of lukewarm decaf coffee or Liquorice Tea in hand, because I’m not a great drinker, and can only have one or two glasses before I feel fuzzy-headed and lose all productivity.

So I’m not the image of what I thought an author would be. And one night, while I was lamenting this fact, one of my friends reminded me that no one really knows what a romance ‘author’ looks like because there is no definitive image of one. Cartland, Hibbert, Muskett, Quinn, Laurens, Mathers, McNaught and all the other great names of romance were or are very different people with very different lives.

So this blog, I hope, will let you see a little of mine.

I’m hoping to share something fairly lovely with you all tomorrow… so hope to see you then.

 

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

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