I've been having a play around with designs for bookmarks for my new book (if/when it finally gets finished). Below is mock up number 1, a simple double sided design. I'm quite pleased with it!
Just need to sort out getting it printed off now. Designs two and three will be secret (I'm rubbish at those!) until the book is released. Bookmarks will be available to purchase separately or free with every copy of Pieces of Me purchased directly from me. This week I have been invited to take part in a blog tour called Meet My Character, where you get to find out more about the main character in my latest book! Thank you to Shannon Pemrick for the invitation to take part! Shannon is the author of the epic Experimental Heart series, the first book 'Pieces' is available on Amazon. Click here to go to the UK Amazon site. Almost 800 pages of pure escapism for just £2.45! For this blog tour I have been asked to answer several questions about a character in my current work in progress, I have chosen what will be my next release - Pieces of Me.
Is there a working title for this novel, and can we read more about it? The novel will be called Pieces of Me and you can view regular updates both here on this website and on my Facebook fan page. I hope to have the book ready for publication by Winter 2014. Below is the 'blurb' and the unedited Prologue from the book for you to check out. About Pieces of Me...Celeste was just five years old when she 'appeared'; she had no memory of where she came from or who she was. After a missing persons campaign failed to offer any answers, Celeste went to live with Mrs Potts, the kind lady who first came across her. Mrs Potts named her Celeste, meaning 'heavenly', because Celeste simply appeared as if fallen from the heavens themselves with no explanation. At sixteen Celeste leaves in the middle of the night, ready to move on in her life. Before she leaves, Celeste passes a piece of herself to Mrs Potts by way of a simple kiss. Here lies the first piece of her. During her lifetime, Celeste leaves other 'pieces' of herself with others she learns to love. But at what price? By leaving parts of herself behind, can she ever remain complete? Prologue (Unedited)...HUSH now. Just a little further. Keep moving, it’s all okay. This – here – is where you begin again... Bright light blinds me as I open my eyes; blinking, I try to make out where I am. The gentle voice that had been guiding me was now gone and the busy hustle and bustle of the street takes its place. I hold my hands out in front of me and turn them slowly, taking in the smallness of them. Resting my arms back at my side I begin to look around where I stood; I didn’t recognise the scene around me. In fact, it occurs to me that I didn’t even know who I am. My lip quivers and tears begin to roll down my cheeks as pitiful sobs escape from my lips. People rush around, not noticing me in their haste to reach their destinations. I stood there for what felt like an age, the crowds begin to disperse and the pace of people slows down. My sobs become laboured and my nose is blocked now from crying so I try breathing from my mouth instead, which is difficult since I ‘m still crying. An older lady approaches me through the thinned crowd of people; she has a concerned look on her face and is pulling a small fabric shopping trolley behind her. “Oh dear, are you lost?” She leans down to look me in the face and pulls a clean tissue from her pocket. She wipes my tears and nose in a well-practised motion. “I don’t know,” I pout as fresh tears well up. My bottom lip sticks out as the lady stands back to look at me properly. Taking my hand she looks around, searching for anyone who might be looking for this pitiful little girl beside her. There is no one. “My name is Mrs Potts,” she tells me in a gentle voice. “Can you tell me your name dear?” I think hard about this; if I have a name I don’t remember it. I don’t know how I got here or where I am from.”I – I don’t know.” She purses her lips; trying to decide if I am being deliberately difficult or if I have simply been traumatised in to some temporary amnesia. “Were you here with your mummy or daddy?” She tries again. I shrug and sniffle some more as my nose begins to unblock. “I’m sorry,” is all I can manage. Mrs Potts squeezes my hand and smiles gently at me. “That’s okay dear. We do need to get you back to your rightful place though young lady. Would you come with me?” I look up at her friendly face and the around us. I don’t know where else to go so I look back at her and nod my head. The policeman is visibly irritated as I shake my head in response to his latest question. So far I haven’t been able to tell him anything at all. I don’t recall my name or how I came to be standing in the middle of the busy street this morning and I don’t know where my mummy is. Or if I even have a mummy. “Well, how old are you?” his annoyance shows now as he slaps his pen down on the desk, not even bothering to wait for a response. “Five,” the word pops out of my mouth from nowhere; I don’t know how but I am certain that this is true. The policeman looks up at me in surprise and Mrs Potts pats my back gently in encouragement and I grin, pleased with myself for giving the right answer at last. He is about to ask another question when he is interrupted by another policeman who opens the door to the small interview room we are sat in. “Ted, social worker’s here,” the new policeman says. They nod at Mrs Potts and disappear for a moment. When he reappears a lady is with him. She is wearing a grey trouser suit and her blonde hair is tied into a high ponytail. She smells of strong perfume that makes me sneeze. “Bless you,” she smiles, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes and she seems to be weary. She holds her hand out to Mrs Potts and they shake hands in greeting. “Mrs Potts? My name is Rachel.” “Hello,” Mrs Potts responds. I watch them size each other up. Ted breaks the silence. “We’ve taken a statement from the lady and a picture of the girl is being processed for the MisPer appeal.” Mrs Potts looks at him blankly. “Missing Persons,” he explains as he passes a brown paper file to Rachel. Rachel flips through the folder and holds a sheet of paper up to Ted and raises an eyebrow at him. “Kid couldn’t answer a single question,” he shrugs. “I’m five,” I remind him of my one small victory just a few moments ago when I remembered this thing about myself. “We’ll have to get a doctor to check her over, memory loss could mean a bump to the head,” Rachel ignores me and I pull a pout at Mrs Potts. “Excuse me dear,” Mrs Potts places her hand on my shoulder protectively as she addresses Rachel. “Perhaps you might care to explain to the little girl what is happening. Also I would imagine that she would like something to eat and drink. Are you hungry dear?” She leans down and smoothes my red hair back in to the slide behind my ear. “Yes Mrs Potts,” I reply and my tummy grumbles in agreement. We turn to look at the policeman and the social worker. Ted clears his throat. “I’ll go and get something from the canteen while you fill them in,” he tells Rachel. With that he leaves the room and Rachel now stands alone facing us. “Perhaps we can all take a seat?” She gestures to the small table and plastic chairs at the side of the room. Mrs Potts and I take the seats on the nearest side and she holds my hand reassuringly and offers me a small smile as Rachel takes seat and opens the file again. My face has been in newspapers across the country in several television appeals now. There have been some false leads from calls received on the back of the nationwide missing person appeal. Which puzzles me since I have been found rather than lost. I have lost my first tooth and I have run away from the home they put me in five times and another four times from different foster families. Each time I find myself on Mrs Potts’ door step. I don’t know how I found my way here the first time since I had not known her before she found me that day in the town. It’s been raining so my usually bright red hair is dark and I can see my breath in misty clouds. I am standing on her door step once more and before my hand reaches the letterbox to knock the door swings open and Mrs Potts stands back as I rush in and climb on to the sofa in her living room. “Shoes,” She reminds me. I kick my shoes off quickly and they land haphazardly on the floor. She tuts playfully and holds her hand out as I pass her my damp coat.. We have a routine now, Mrs Potts and I. She makes me a hot chocolate to warm me up and a ham sandwich; I know that there will be two chocolate digestives to follow, but not until I finish my sandwich – even the crust. I tried to tell her one time that my hair is already curly but I didn’t get chocolate biscuits that time so I didn’t say it again. Then she switches the television on to a cartoon channel and calls the social worker to let her know I’m here... Again. Rachel is getting increasingly frustrated with my knack of finding my way back here no matter how far away the foster homes that she places me in are. I’m usually here by the time anyone even realises I’ve ‘escaped’. “I don’t know what to do with you” has become her catch phrase now and she says it as she enters the living room, hands on her hips and a cross look on her face. I’m lying on the sofa with a knitted blanket over me and I lift my eyes from the large television set to look at her. “Madam,” she shakes her head at me as she speaks. “What is it going to take to stop you from running away all the time?” An idea has been growing in my mind for some weeks now and I decide to say it out loud. “I could live here,” I answer, “with Mrs Potts.” Mrs Potts’ mouth opens in surprise but I notice that she doesn’t try to argue with my suggestion. Rachel turns to face her, she has an exasperated look on her face and moves her lips to speak a couple of times but apparently she can’t think of an argument against it either. “Mrs Potts?” She asks finally. “Well, if the child would like to stay with me until we find her family then I suppose that would be okay,” Mrs Potts says carefully. “She’ll have to stay with a foster family while I look in to the possibility,” Rachel turns to look at me once more. Mrs Potts copies her. “We’ll have to give the child a name of course,” Mrs Potts muses. She tips her head to one side, taking me in with her light blue eyes. “I suppose ‘her’ and ‘she’ aren’t particularly healthy labels,” Rachel agrees. “Do you have any suggestions?” Mrs Potts motions for me to come to her so I sit up and put the blanket to one side before making my way over to her. She cups her hand under my chin and turns my head this way and that. “Celeste,” she says softly. I like the sound of the name on her lips, it makes me smile. “Celeste?” Rachel questions. “If I recall correctly, it means ‘heavenly’, and it seems to me right now that this little girl as good as fell from the heavens,” Mrs Potts responds, not taking her eyes off me. I don’t know what Rachel and Mrs Potts had to do to manage it, but a couple of weeks later I was back in the little cottage. This time I was dropped there by Rachel with a bag of second hand clothes and a rag doll that my most recent foster mother had given me. Mrs Potts opened the front door with a smile, her crinkled eyes showing me that the joy at seeing me was genuine. Rachel handed my things to her and I made my way through the small hallway and into the living room on the left hand side of the house. I pulled my shoes off and placed them neatly on one side then sat quietly on the sofa waiting for Mrs Potts to join me. Within a few moments the front door clicked shut and she appeared in the living room doorway. This was to be my home now and I was glad. I felt safe with Mrs Potts and I had a sense that this was supposed to be, although I could never explain it. Some nights I dreamed of a voice, so quiet I could barely make out what it said. HUSH now. Just a little further. Keep moving, it’s all okay. This – here – is where you begin again... And then there is a blinding white light... Next week's Blog Tour...And now I would like you to meet next week's authors who will be taking part in the next 'leg' of this blog tour...
Today I played with Lego with my little nephew, Sam. We (I) built a garage, a house, a shop, a car wash and lots of cars!
It was such fun and Sam said he likes me 'today', ha! He has such a fantastic imagination, and found lots of 'extras' in the Lego box such as oranges for the workers in the garage to snack on, lights and cameras for the roof of the garage and 'tools to fix the cars with. I can certainly see what Mum always said about 'you can never be miserable when Sam is about', it's certainly true! I eventually found the words to say for my tribute today. I don't know if they managed even to begin to explain how much this wonderful woman meant to me, but this is what I said:
"I have had a wonderful, caring mum who I have been lucky enough to call my best friend as well. Our ups and downs only served to bring us closer and I could tell her anything. We saw or spoke to each other every day. When Mum found out she had cancer, her first instinct was not to be angry or feel sorry for herself, it was to fight. That stubborn streak is something she passed on to my sisters and I but I know now that it is actually a good trait because it has gotten us through some really difficult times. Mum taught me lots of things, particularly over the last 9 months. She taught me that it’s okay to cry, but not to wallow in self pity. She would let you cry a little and then say ‘come on, that’s enough now’ and then it was time to get on with things. She taught me to surround myself with good friends and family, and I am lucky to have both. And over the last 9 months I've become quite good at pedicures, since Mum often lifted up a leg and said to me ‘go on then’, meaning it was time to massage her feet with cream and paint her toenails. Mum was a real family woman. Nothing made her happier that a house full of children and grandchildren. She loved Derek. They have had a happy marriage and were like newly-weds every day that they were together. In the last 9 months Derek cared for Mum so brilliantly, and he was constantly up and down as she said ‘get this, fetch that’. Mum taught Derek a lot over these few months too… he’s a brilliant housekeeper now. We have all been blessed to have Mum in our lives. She has left us with a hole in our hearts but a head full of happy memories. I will love and miss her every single day for the rest of my life. I know that I will see you again one day Mum, sweet dreams." ... And I'll cry if I want to! And probably shall!
Today is my birthday and I am 31 years young! It's a sad day though; my first birthday without seeing/speaking to my Mum. The first one where I won't get a card written by her. And it breaks my heart all over again. It's also the day before her funeral, where I will be paying tribute to her with words that don't feel enough to explain what a huge part she has been in my life; how huge a part of me has gone with her. But my lovely partner has invited my dad and two of my nieces over for dinner and he is cooking (from scratch) one of my favourite dinners - Chinese yuk sung, crispy shredded beef with rice... and there will be pudding too, yum. I did ask him if I could just sleep through today but his answer was a most definite "no". So I will keep my chin(s) up and make the most of the day, as I know Mum would want me too. But I shall miss her all the same. Love you Mum xxxx The first delivery of Telling Tales arrived today, and they have all sold! Even the copy I had reserved for myself. A new delivery will be with me in July and I already have some of those reserved. Copies have been signed and delivered, with the rest to be posted out tomorrow. This part is my favourite I think! I make myself 'to do' lists all the time! For my writing, work, everything really. I've not been able to tick much off my most recent writing lists because I have had so much on my mind and motivation has become an issue. So I am giving myself a kick up the backside so that I can get back on track.
That's where you all come in! I am making my monthly 'to do' lists public in the hope that I will get motivated again!
We're half way through the month and I only have two items ticked off the list so far so I have a lot of work to do before the end of the month. The first 7 points are for my first children's book, Adventures of Sam & Ted - Where is Ted?! The actual story is complete, I need to arrange for the illustration of it now which I am hoping will be quick and painless since I am doing this one myself. I'll need to pin down my nephew and his Ted, who the stories will be based on, first!
And so, to me! I have been asked four questions to help you get to know me, so here goes:
Now here are the authors I have invited to take part! Their blogs will be up on Monday 23rd June 2014.
You may have noticed a few 'Things My Mother...' posts on my blog. I thought I might make them a regular feature. Well, as regular as I can; when I remember stories she told me or lessons she taught me.
You are probably also aware that I am currently writing a book called 'Pieces of Me', where the main character - Celeste - shares a piece of herself with those she loves. That has inspired me to leave a little piece of Mum in all of my work by way of 'scenes' created from memories of Mum and the stories she told me of both her own past as well as my childhood. Then Mum will be part of all of my work even though she's no longer here to read it. I quite like the idea of sharing her stories and my memories, giving a piece of myself to my readers in a slightly different way. It will be up to you though as the reader to decide which is memory and which is fiction! |