Amy Andrews's Blog - Posts Tagged "amy-andrews"

After 30 Harlequins am proud to announce my first Entangled romance -
Taming the Tycoon. I will be kicking off the blog tour next week with some giveaways so keep an eye out for dates and details!

How To Mend A Broken Heart has caused some chatter about the purpose of romance novels and suggestions that maybe its just a bit too dark and gritty. So I thought I'd post the Dear Reader letter that appears in the front of the book here so you can judge for yourselves before you buy and read whether it is the right book for you.

Sometimes, as writers, there are just stories we have to tell. And this was one of them. I thank everyone for their thought provoking reviews - they mean more to me than the easily celebrated five star ones because I know how difficult the book is for some people.

Amy


Dear Reader,
The opening scene of How To Mend A Broken Heart came to me in this perfectly formed picture in my mind. I knew little about the woman kneeling over the grave at the time other than she was grieving for her child and that she was very, very broken. I didn’t even know her name! But I knew, after many years of sadness, I wanted her to be happy. To start functioning again.

The book deals with some heavy issues. Issues that, sadly, I have come across in my other life as a paediatric intensive care nurse. Issues that, no matter how hard you try to keep an emotional distance, still touch you on a personal level.

I often wonder what becomes of couples after their child has passed away. When they leave hospital for the last time without their little loved one in their arms. How do they cope with the grief? How do they ever lead a normal life when something so precious and integral to their happiness and identity as a couple has been wrenched away? And in particular how much worse is it when the death is accidental. When for a split section of distraction, a blip of inattention that marks us all as human beings, everything changes. How badly must they want to be able to go back in time, to do over that one moment, to make it all okay?

I also wanted to write a romance that didn’t have a “riding off into the sunset” ending. Re-uniting two broken people was never going to be easy and to give them an everything-is-okay-now future didn’t seem true to life. I wanted to show Tess and Fletch’s love was true but I needed to acknowledge that to make their marriage a success the second time round, they were going to need help. That they were going to have to work at it.

I loved giving these two people their lives back and whilst their story is wrenching at times, I hope I’ve been true to them and their love.
I hope you think so too.

This blog first appeared on Passionate Book Diva's http://passionatebookdivas.com/?p=5143I

I had a conversation on twitter recently about Kenny Rogers. This is the part where I admit I am a total country music tragic (except for yodelling – just can’t go there) so for those of you who aren’t, you might like to leave now.

Okay…..still got some of you? Cool. I’ll press on.

I guess there’s no real hope for me is there? Not only do I admit to reading and actually writing romance novels, I also love country music. Yes, I’m sorry, I have sinned. Two terrible transgressions against the great world of “culture”.
But you know what?
Culture can go take a flying leap off the nearest cliff.

I’m a country music fan and proud!

As a romance writer, I have a real affinity for country music because I feel like we’re both lumped into the same category – trash. Yes, like romance, country music has the dubious distinction of belonging to a rarefied sub-section of artistic culture – the one where NO-ONE admits to listening to it but EVERYBODY has an opinion about how bad it is.

“Oh yes, that Achy Breaky Heart is awful “- ergo ALL country music is awful.

“Oh yes, I read one of my grandmother’s Mills and Boon once back in 1962 and it was laughable” - ergo ALL romance is laughable.

When really what is awful and laughable is that so many people are willing to dismiss and judge on the basis of so little personal data.

Because, you know, anyone who’s ever listened to the lyrics of a good country song or read the pages of an excellent romance novel can tell you this – it’s all about the story. Because that’s what we both do so well – story. We’re story tellers. We spin tales of love and redemption and emotional triumph. And while I get to do it in 50-90k, country song writers have to do it in a few verses and a chorus and that is pretty damn amazing.

I have to say that no genre of music makes me laugh or cry as much as country.

And maybe that’s why I like this music most of all – because, as with reading, I like emotion. I don’t mind a bit of a cry and I really love a good laugh as I’m singing along. Anyone who’s ever heard Brad Paisley sing “You Need A Man Around Here” or “I’m Still a Guy” or “Online” will know what I’m talking about. Hell, Google “That’s What You Get When You Play A Country Song Backwards” and I guarantee it’ll make you smile!

Sure there is a swathe of terrible country music out there. And a bunch of terrible romance. But there is also a swathe of terrible, rap, hip hop, electronica, thrash and pop. As well as terrible crime, fantasy, YA and literary novels. But none of those are judged and found wanting as a whole because of the example of a few, as is country and romance.

So, what the hell has this got to do with Taming the Tycoon and the delightful Addie and uptight Nathaniel who live in London where country music is practically unheard of? Absolutely nothing :-)

But if you’ve liked this blog, I’m guessing you’ll like the book which also has humour and a few teary moments and heart and soul and STORY so might I suggest you go to my website and check out my blog tour dates where you can maybe win a copy or just buy a copy for 2.99 on Amazon or B&N and see for yourself.

Oh and stay tuned for a future Amy Andrews with a country music heroine. Who sees dead people… Don’t ask. Paranormal – eep! Damn muse…..

This blog first appeared at Smexy Books
http://smexybooks.com/2012/09/guest-a...

One of the scenes from Taming the Tycoon I loved writing the most involved Nate and Addie, posing as a couple, being manipulated by his meddling old granny into sharing the same room. With only one bed.

“You want Addie in the rose bedroom?” he asked.
“Oh no darling,” his grandmother interjected. “She’ll be in with you, of course.”
Nathaniel felt time screech to halt around him. His heart pounded in his chest and his pulse roared through his ears. He looked at Addie, who blinked at him uncertainly through her big round sunglasses.
“What about the rules?” he inquired through gritted teeth. “You’ve never let me share my room with a woman before.”
“Yes but...” his grandmother smiled at him the way she always had – like he hung the moon. “We didn’t like any of the others, darling.”

And it’s not just any bed – it’s an utterly debauched creation!

....They both looked at the bed. Big and large and white.
“They don’t make them like that anymore,” Addie mused.
Nathaniel nodded. “Nope,” he agreed staring some more. It was the same bed he always slept in. He’d just never noticed how decadent it was before.
“The pillows down the middle idea doesn’t seem so crazy now, does it?” she asked.
He looked at her, all big gray eyes and lovely mouth and that stretchy T-shirt molding her breasts to perfection.
She so wasn’t his type.
And he still wanted her.
How on earth was he going to lie next to her all night and not wind up reaching for her when his body was telling him that was exactly what he should do?
He couldn’t control his subconscious. His five a.m. wake-up call was a classic example of that.
He looked at her across acres of mattress. They were going to need a bigger bed....

Addie is quite upbeat about the situation, or trying to be, anyway. But Nate knows its spells trouble with a capital T.

....Addie rolled her eyes. “Methinks you doth protest too much.” She tossed her hair. “We’re both adults, Nate. I’m sure we can control ourselves.”
He folded his arms and leaned his butt against the back of the chair. “Do you have any idea what happens to an adult man around five o’clock in the morning?”
Addie swallowed at the silky enquiry. His voice seemed to have dropped some more as she became entranced with his long fingers drumming against his bicep.
“While the rest of the world sleeps, a certain part of our anatomy is very, very awake. And it’s really not that picky at that time of the morning, either. In fact, it’s probably going to consider a warm, sleepy woman, no matter how crazy she is, fair game. Are you prepared for that? Because I’m almost thirty-five years old and I’ve never been able to control my early morning wake up call.”
Addie felt skewered to the spot by the scenario he just painted. Him and her. A set of snowy white sheets. Some morning glory. She glanced at the bed, a vision of him tumbling her over and over in it clouding the issue.
She looked back at him primly. “I’m assuming you can control what you do with it?”
His gaze didn’t waver as his fingers stopped their drumming. “But what if I don’t want to?"....

This was the first time I’ve written this kind of a story line – well actually it’s the second but the other couple had been married in the past so it doesn’t count – which is surprising considering I’ve written 30 books! Especially when it’s a story line that I absolutely adore. I love the enforced intimacy set up. I love the sexual tension, the must not touch push and pull, the anticipation, the lengths the couple go to in denying their attraction. I think it offers a lot of scope for humour, sexiness and a chance to get to really know a character.
It also offers lots of opportunities for snuggling.

...She eased slightly away but Nate shifted in his sleep, pulling her closer.
She lay still for a moment, her heart pounding, her breath sounding like a tornado in the pre-dawn silence, trying not to think about his erection snuggled against her bottom.
Although snuggled was far too passive a word for the rigid length of him.
Potent. Rampant. They were good words.
Ready was another.
Heat flared to life at the juncture of her thighs. How long had it been since she’d been in bed with a man. Five, six months?
She shifted her hips slightly, angling herself against him as the slow burn picked up pace. His girth pressed against the crutch of her underwear and it felt heavenly, the delicious friction licking flames higher to where his hand rested on her belly and furling along muscles and nerves.
She rocked - just a little. Just to relieve the ache.
She felt a faint movement of his hand on her belly and she stopped, her breath husky in the breaking light, her pulse tripping like a faulty switch. She bit into her lip, her senses straining to detect any signs of his waking.
She barely breathed for a full minute but her brain was busy castigating. What was she doing? Had she temporarily lost control of her senses? Rubbing herself against a sleeping man just wasn’t on. It was morally questionable.
Probably illegal.
Definitely icky.
But why oh why did bad things always feel so damn good?
Just once more, she promised herself as she pushed back into him again.
“Addie, I am not made of stone.”
The rumble in her ear, the firm press of his hand on her belly, the slight rock of his hips both shocked and tantalized.
He sure as hell felt hard as stone right this minute.
“Stop now,” he warned, low and husky, “or forever hold your peace.”
Addie froze, mortified. “I’m...”
What? I’m what? Depraved? Disturbed? Disgusting? How long had he been awake? How badly had she humiliated herself?
“Go to sleep, Addie.”
His lips brushed her neck, the rough buzz of his whiskers beading her nipples. She shut her eyes tight then moved to ease away from him. “No, I really think I need to explain – ”
His arm tightened around her halting her words. “Stop thinking,” he murmured. “It won’t be so bad in the cold light of day and at least I know your underwear is satiny now.”
In the cold light of day it would be ten times more embarrassing. She already wanted to sneak away before it got any lighter and never see him again. But damn it, if he could be nonchalant about a woman rubbing herself against his giant erection like it was a stripper’s pole, then so could she.
“Life’s too short for boring underwear,” she said defensively.
She swore she felt his lips smile against her neck. “I agree.”....

And even more opportunities for teasing.

...“I want to thank you for not...taking advantage of the situation this morning. I seriously do not know what came over me.”
Nathaniel took a decent slug of wine himself as his body took a walk down memory lane. “I don’t take advantage of women who are half asleep, Addie. I’m assuming you were half asleep?”
Addie nodded vigorously. “Yes...of course.”
He hid his smile behind his own glass as Addie took another swig of her wine. She’d been awake as he had. “Okay then. No harm, no foul.”
She seemed to sag a little at his words. “Thank you,” she said, and the relief in her smile was palpable. “Now, do you think we could never talk of it again?”
Nathaniel laughed. “Sure. Although I should give you fair warning. I can’t promise to be so gentlemanly again should you get horny at five a.m. tomorrow morning.”...

And if you’re really lucky, some hot, steamy sex when the temptation becomes too much!

...“Addie?”
She opened her eyes to his husky question, gratified to see the clench of his jaw, the strain in his neck muscles, his hands gripping the sheet beside him.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
She rocked into him, meshing her gaze with his and smiled. “Just drunk enough to be very, very easy.”
Nathaniel gave a half laugh. “Having sex with a fake girlfriend would be very...” She watched his eyes shut as she ground down hard. “Very bad,” he muttered, opening his eyes again.
Addie nodded as the image of them entwined and naked on this sinful bed exploded inside her head. “But this isn’t sex,” she said, stroking her hand higher on his thigh as she angled her pelvis where the pressure was best. She hit the right spot and it sucked the breath right from her lungs.
“Oh, I think it is,” he muttered.
Addie stopped abruptly. “Really?” She eyed him thoughtfully as she throbbed against his knee. “Well in that case...”
She slid up his thigh, grabbed him by the shirt, and yanked him upright. “Let’s go all the way.”....

What about you? Do you like enforced intimacy scenarios? Or is it an eye-rolling, wall banger for you? Have you ever read a really good one that you’d like to share? Or, scandalously, have you ever been in that situation yourself? In which case, do tell :-)

This post originally appeared on I'm A Book Shark http://www.imabookshark.com/2012/10/b...


Yes, ick words. We all have them. You know the ones that make you shudder when you read them. They’re different for all of us and its no reflection on the author – they’re just words that, for some reason, usually unknown, set your ick-o-meter twitching. For example, I love the word “chuckle”. I think it’s a wonderfully descriptive word for a particular kind of laughter. It says warm and deep and rich and I use it a lot. But I have writer friends who hate it. Who wouldn’t even use it if it was the last word left in the English language. Again, they can’t articulate why its icks them out – it just does.
And I get that. I truly do.

So, here are my current top ten ick words. I say current because I think it’s also pertinent to establish a caveat and that is that ick words can change over time. Words that icked me out years ago, don’t necessarily do so today. And vice versa. Ick is a state of mind! I’d also like to add that no doubt I’ve probably used most of my ick words at some stage in my career and that someone will diligently search through 30+ books looking for them and then write to me about it. All I can say to that is, please refer to the caveat. It also may come as no surprise that most of my ick words come out when characters are getting it on so if you’re a little squeamish or I don’t know, eating breakfast, you may want to keep clicking.

10) Womanhood. Seriously, what is that?

9) Manhood. Yeh, you probably guessed that already, right? Can we please, for the love of God, just call it a penis already??

8) Member. Again, what the hell? If you’re talking about being part of a club well and good. If you’re prefixing it with male – ick!

7) Rod. I understand that for many years, as writers, we’ve had to find euphemisms because no-one would print the word penis. But, seriously, rod? Ouch!

6) Cock. Okay, I realise I may be beginning to sound like a prude. But trust me, I’m not. I’m not really sure why this one hits my ick-o-metre, it just does. I actually don’t mind reading it, nor am I put off when people say it, I just can’t bring myself to use it in my own writing. And I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just that I’m a penis/dick/erection kind of girl. These are words I can use, no problems. But that C word….

5) Button. Whether it’s referring to nipples or the clitoris, it really icks me out. If it’s sewn on a shirt or it’s a big, round, plastic, knobby thing that can be pushed to make a machine go ping, I’m good.

4) Cleft. This kind of sounds too crevice-like for me. Too dark and deep and dangerous. A place that should, I don’t know, kind of be avoided.

3) Moist. Ugh! It’s kind of the thing you expect to find in clefts, don’t you think? It conjures up dark and dank and things like yeast infections. But maybe that’s just the nurse in me.

2) Giggle. Yes, giggle. Hah! See they’re not all about sex. Giggle drives me nuts because too often they have women giggling in books and I just want to slap them. Little girls giggle - grown women do not. Now, to be fair, the occasional woman does giggle – I’ve known 2 myself - and I think the word can be used very effectively if you want to give an annoying character trait to someone. But use it wisely I say, because the minute a woman is giggling I’m wondering when she’s going to break her ankle and then the book is kind of ruined.

No doubt this is how some people feel about chuckle….

1) Panties. This is my current number one ick word. And it’s a hard one because as I read mostly romance novels it’s a word that gets used a lot. Writers love it, they love it like I love chuckle – so I get it, I do. But for me, it’s a word that a paedophile would say and that really gets my ick-o-meter twitching. The only time I’ve ever hit the roof professionally was when a copy editor changed knickers to panties in one of my earlier books. I think there’s now a red flag on my file in the London office somewhere. Possibly also at Scotland Yard. Maybe Interpol.

So, there you have it. What about you out there. What are your ick words? And I’ll tell you if I’ve ever used them….

This blog and giveaway is still running at Confessions from Romaholics if you want to head over there to go in the draw for a free e-copy of Taming the Tycoon and a cute keychain.

The subject matter was how my job as a nurse affects my writing and do I use my medical knowledge in my books.

Well, the simple answer is yes! I’ve been a nurse for the last 25 years and I’ve loved every single one of them. How could that not spill over into my writing? Of course, writing for the HMB Medical line (full of McDreamies and McSteamies so if you haven’t tried one I really, really urge you to!) it’s practically a pre-requisite.

Most of my heroines are nurses and, as such, I can slip into their shoes incredibly easily. I can colour the heroine’s world with deft touches from personal experience.

In How To Mend A Broken Heart I was able to bleed emotion all over the page when writing about the tragedy of a drowned toddler because, sadly, I have seen it too often.

In Top Notch Surgeon, Pregnant Nurse I was able to depict accurately and sensitively the separation of conjoined twins because I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have looked after two sets and witnessed the highs and lows of their complex care.

In A Doctor, A Nurse: A Christmas Baby I could describe the utter desolation and exhaustion a truly terrible, high-adrenaline shift can wreak on the doctors and nurses who work it and how it forms a bond that very few people could understand.

And of course being intimately acquainted with medical terms and procedures, knowing what someone would say or do in any given medical situation, also helps to lend authenticity to my writing.

What’s been interesting, though, is how I’ve used it in my non-medical romances. My nursing background was particularly useful when I was writing Addie in Taming the Tycoon. Addie has survived Leukaemia and not only has it caused her to reassess and take stock and, in a strange twist, propelled her into the path of the Nate, it’s injected a renewed vigour into her life.

I’ve known people like Addie, I’ve nursed them. They’ve stared death in the face and won and been determined to live every day to the fullest.

My nursing experience was also handy in a couple of pivotal scenes. The first is where Nate realises how sick Addie had been -

He reached for the milk and shut the door. His gaze fell on the items she had clipped with magnetic flowers to the outside. A couple of receipts, a Thames tide table, some magnetic poetry words, and a photo.

He pulled it off to look more closely. A very pale, very skinny, bald woman stared back at him with dark smudges under her big gray eyes. She had a tube in her nose, her lips were dry and cracked, her shirt had slipped off her bony shoulder, and he could see she had some kind of drip line running in under the skin just below her coat-hanger collar bone.

She wasn’t smiling. She was just looking at the camera as if even breathing took a monumental effort.

His gut felt like someone had shoved a red, hot poker right into the middle of it. “This is you?”

Addie looked up from her chopping. She went very still as she nodded. “It was the day after I came out of intensive care.”

Nathaniel felt ill just looking at it. The woman in the picture was Addie. Not the vibrant, infuriating pain in the butt who stood before him right now, but a ravaged ghost. He didn’t know what to say.

“Jesus, Addie. You look - it’s - why do you keep it?”

It was a graphic photo that was almost too painful to look at, and yet she had it in a place of pride on her fridge. His hand shook as he stared at it. What if she got sick again like this? Hadn’t she said she wasn’t in the clear just yet?

“Doesn’t it bring back awful memories?”

Addie shrugged. “I keep it so I remember every day how lucky I am. How fragile life is. And every time my parents ring to harangue me about getting a proper job and a proper place to live, or some head-hunter drops by offering me the world on a platter, I look at it and know what’s really important.”


Unfortunately, I’m familiar with the skeletal exhaustion described in this scene. Where even the slightest of movements is physically draining. Where patients are just so damn weary all they want is to shut their eyes and never wake up.

The second scene takes place at the hospital where Addie is waiting to have some blood drawn and Nate, Mr Impatient, walks in and starts throwing his weight around -

He stood and said, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

He felt Addie’s hand on his arm and turned. “Where are you going?” she asked.

“Just going to see if I can’t speed the process up a little.” He pulled away and approached the window.

The woman behind the glass looked his mother’s age and not someone who suffered fools gladly. He shot her his best smile.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “My -” God, what did he call her? Lover, bonk buddy, tour guide? “Friend over there has been waiting for over ninety minutes and I’m afraid she’s not going to make the four o’clock cut off. But,” he smiled again as he reached for his wallet. “I was hoping she could slip in next?”

He felt Addie near his shoulder as he removed four fifty pound notes and pushed them across the counter. She gasped and said, “Nathaniel!”

The woman ignored the money as she looked at him, her gaze unwavering, her expression steely.

“You want to jump the line? Ahead of the bald kid who’s been waiting just as long as your...friend?”

Nathaniel looked behind him. The kid was the one having the test? Guilt tore at him as the child chose that moment to pull his beanie off to reveal he was as bald as a badger. The same tube he’d seen on Addie’s fridge picture was in his nose. Big black circles colored the huge hollows occupied by the boy’s eyes and he stared straight ahead like a concentration camp victim.

His mother looked gutted—like someone had punched her in the stomach.

I’ve looked into eyes like that. Little kids ravaged by a disease they’re far too young to comprehend. And parents who look like their whole world is collapsing but trying to keep it together for the sake of their child, trying to be positive and upbeat while all the time they’re utterly terrified.

I think my nursing background enabled me to infuse a reality into those scenes that makes them deeply emotional, poignant and gut-wrenching and hopefully leads to a deeper understanding of character. I personally think Taming the Tycoon is much stronger for these scenes.

But maybe that’s just the nurse in me? What do you guys think out there in reader land? Do you want this kind of reality in your romance novels? Is there such a thing as too real?

I received an email a few weeks ago - a truly horrible, vile email from a reader who obviously hadn't liked Waking Up With Dr Off-Limits. I mean REALLY hadn't liked it. It was insulting and made me feel dreadful all night. Seriously, why would a person write such an awful email - just throw the book agasint the wall already....

But that's for another blog.

Her main issue seemed to be that I had written a 24 year old virgin.

Shock, horror, scandal!!!

Yes, apparently 24 was way too old for a virgin in her opinion and that by making my heroine so "old" I was being sexist. That women are sexual beings too and why is it okay for men to have sex and not women. That I was sending a message to women telling them they should be ashamed of having sex.

This took me aback for a couple of reasons (apart from the appallingly aggressive language) The main one is that in 30+ books I've written 1 virgin.

One. And that was my 25th book.

Its really not my modus operandi, you know? Not that I have anything against writing virgins, its just that my heroines tend to be in their 30's so it's never been an issue. This heroine was 24 so I didnt feel it was all that unrealistic.

Secondly, she was no pure flower sitting around keeping her legs crossed for her knight in shining armour. She'd dated and made out with guys, she just hadn't gone all the way because she'd been in love with the hero since she was 20 and deep down she wanted him to be "the one". She had some sexual experience - enough to know what she wanted and the balls to go for it when it finally looked like the hero was interested.

So, I guess my question is this - is 24 seriously too young?

Is there no such thing as being a virgin in your 20's any more?? Am I hopelessly out of touch?

The opening scene of Taming the Tycoon involves Addie, the heroine, performing a citizen’s arrest on Nathaniel , the hero, using a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs.

He raised a haughty eyebrow at her. “Pink fluffy handcuffs? Seriously?”

Addie could hear the derision lacing his voice despite the noise around them. She stood her ground. “Worried pink trim will ruin your image?”

“Not at all.” He shook his head. “Are they yours?”

The suggestive note in his voice slipped down her spine like a bead of warm water. She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant and pretend she wasn’t locked into a set of sex-shop handcuffs with the devil personified.

I must start off this blog with a point of clarification. I often get asked how much of my life is in my books and since Taming hit the virtual shelves I see my friends looking at me sideways with a faint enquiring look on their faces – does she or doesn’t she?

So let’s get it out in the open.

I don’t own a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs. Hell, I’ve never even seen a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs in real life. I’ve been in a sex-shop precisely twice and I was much too busy giggling like a school girl at the giant phalluses to check out their bondage items.

I know it’s the height of fashion in this post 50 Shades world to be into a little BDSM but sadly, despite my rep for hawt raunchy sex scenes, I am boringly middle-class.

And so is Addie. Despite the alternate lifestyle and her revolutionary bravado she’s definitely quite straight and more than a little flustered when she first claps eyes on the enigmatic Nathaniel.
And what a way to meet!

I had a lot of fun writing that scene :-)Taking uptight Nate and literally binding him to hippy chick Addie was a fun and cute way for them to get together.

I love these types of “meet cutes”, don’t you? Somehow they seem so much more romantic, more pre-destined, than a blind date or being introduced through mutual friends.

What's your favourite meet cute?




This blog first appeared at Romance Book Paradise http://nas-dean.blogspot.com.au/2012/...

I had such a great time writing Taming the Tycoon and bringing Addie and Nathaniel’s story to life. I had particular fun with Addie being a maths genius. It led to some amusing scenes especially when Nate first finds out he’s been judging a book by its rather unconventional cover!

Poor Nate – she has him bamboozled right from the getgo!

“That’s not a challenge,” she said. “Working them out in your head is a challenge. I’m pretty good at math. I can help if you like? Throw me a sum.”

Nathaniel chuckled at her offer. He was learning not to underestimate her but she’d need to be a bloody genius to work this stuff out without some kind of electronic aid or at least a paper and pen. “I’m good.”

“No, really,” she insisted.

Nathaniel sighed. He didn’t want her help, but he was beginning to recognize that determined little jut to her chin. “I’m pretty damn good at math, too, but multiplying and dividing eight figured numbers off the top off my head with any sort of accuracy is not something to mess with.”

Her gaze didn’t waver as she said, “Try me.”

Nathaniel met it for a long moment then returned his attention to the sums he’d been working on and prattled off four seven-figured numbers that had to be multiplied and then divided by a five-figured number with two decimal points.

It took her less than ten seconds to shoot him an answer. “Okay,” he said, amused at her dead pan delivery as he wrote the number down. “And how do I know it’s right?”

She didn’t even blink. “It’s right.”

“If you say so.”

“Get your phone and check.”

Nathaniel reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled to the calculator application and did the sum, hitting the equals button. The answer blinked back at him and he stared dumbfounded as it matched the one she’d given him.

He looked up and shot her another sum, doing it on the calculator as he dictated it to her. A dozen sums later, he was staring at her, completely gobsmacked.

She was a genius.

Who owned a crystal shop.

And lived on a boat.

“Addie, Addie, Addie...” he murmured. “When are you going to stop surprising me?”

Another scene I had fun writing was the reaction when Nate’s mother and grandmother are exposed to Addie’s talent.

“I’m not sure we’ll have enough fairy lights,” Delphine fretted.

“How many have you got?” Nathaniel asked.

“Heavens, I don’t know. Thirty-two strings of twelve point eight meters each-”

“Four hundred and nine point six meters,” Addie interrupted. “There’s usually five lights per meter, which will give you two thousand and forty-eight lights. Oodles, I’d say.”

Silence descended upon the table as three sets of eyes blinked at her.

“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel murmured, forgetting for a moment that he was going to spend all day stringing almost half a kilometer of lights. “She does that.”

“Wow,” Eunice murmured.

“Impressive,” Delphine agreed.

Addie shrugged. “Sorry, I forget how much it freaks people out.”

“Not at all,” Eunice said, patting her hand. “Just remind me not to play cards with you.”

As you can see, Addie has everyone transfixed. Nate seriously does not know what’s about to hit him!

Doncha just love it when a big powerful man is bought to his knees by a woman?


This blog first appeared on Stitch Read Cook http://www.stitchreadcook.com/

Up until recently I exclusively wrote medical romance for HMB which is a fairly niche market so my name wasn’t well known and hence I didn’t often get fan mail. Since branching out into RIVA/Presents Extra/KISS I’ve become a bit more mainstream and with my Entangled release, Taming the Tycoon, I’ve probably reached my biggest readership yet with some really great emails from readers.

About 18 months ago I received my first Dear Amy You Suck email. It was awful and confronting but I’m fairly pragmatic so I ignored and got on with it. Recently I received another not very nice email which, I have to say, made the first one look like an invitation to tea from the Queen by comparison.

I was going to share both letters here but decided not to. Suffice to say they’re not very nice. To be honest, they left me feeling horrible, unsettled and flat for quite a few days after. And it really doesn’t matter that both these emails say a lot more about the person writing them than about me and my books, I am still a human being and they rattled me.

I guess, in a way, it’s our fault. As writers we invite readers in via our websites and blogs and on public forums all the time. Writers are more accessible now than ever before. I can’t talk for anyone else but I know I personally enjoy interacting with readers on social media. They don’t need to kiss my arse. I have a thick skin and a healthy ego - I’ll survive negative reviews and snarky comments because that’s all part of the game.

But a personal email is different. It’s like these two readers knocked on my door and when I opened it, they spat in my face.

So what did I do, I hear you ask? Did I delete them? No. I didn’t. I kept them as a reminder that not every person who reads your book is going to get it. And that’s an important lesson to learn early as a writer.

And then, after much hesitation and careful contemplation, I wrote this blog :-)

So, in an effort to perhaps save another author the horrible sinking feeling of an awful letter, I’d like to suggest some other things readers can do if they don’t like a book.

Suggestion #1 Stop Reading.
This is the most important AND the easiest thing to do.
Stop. Reading. The. Book.
Put it down. Walk away. The power is in your hands.
I’ve read many a book I didn’t like. Years ago I would have persisted to the bitter end (as my two lovely readers obviously did) but now if they don’t hook me in the first three or so chapters, I just put it down. And hope to God I don’t suddenly drop dead and have that book be the last one in my head when I pop off my mortal coil.

Suggestion #2 - Throw it against the wall.
There’s is nothing quite so satisfying than the thunk a book makes as it hits a wall. It’s almost as good as book smell and those of you who are true book lovers will understand what I mean.
Granted, this level of satisfaction is much easier to achieve with a paperback than a digital version. In my experience Kindles/Nooks/iPads don’t fare so well with meeting hard surfaces at great speed. But they do have handy delete buttons which is the electronic equivalent of the wall banger. Without the noise.
Now if someone invented an app for that, it would be very cool!

Suggestion # 3 - Tell all your friends how bad it is.
Don’t hang back. Ring them. Email them. Whisper about it at the school gate. Slander it at the local book club. Hell, take it to social media. Facebook , Tumblr, Twitter. I’m not going to butt in. I recently followed a live twitter feed between two people who were patently obviously talking about one of my books, not in a particularly flattering light, and I didn’t say a word. I gritted my teeth and went and popped some popcorn and settled in for all the grizzly details. It’s okay. My books are out there in a public forum and people are going to talk about them and they are entitled to their opinions.

Suggestion #4 - Give it a one star review on Amazon/Goodreads/Review Site/Personal Blog.
In fact you should post one of those reviews that say how much you wish you could give zero stars because that’s three hours of your life you’re never going to get back. Or even better you could lament that there weren’t negative stars because there just wasn’t one single positive, redeeming factor whatsoever.
You could even include animations and funny cartoons.
Really, don’t hold back. One particularly memorable reviewer of Innocent Til Proven Otherwise certainly didn’t when she called me “crude” and “mysogynistic” and the book “appalling” and “extra awful”.
But bravo to her for stopping after the first chapter.

So there you are – four great alternatives to hitting the send button on a downer email.

My best suggestion? Save your letters for authors you love and books that blew your mind. Authors live for those kind of letters, it makes our day/week/month or, if you’re like me who rarely gets anything, year.

Fan letters are one of the joys of the job. Spread joy.