Well, gosh, it’s been a wild weekend for writing news, I can tell you! Where do I start?? First off, I have a brand-new web page for my upcoming short story, A Stranger’s Touch, plus an extract from the beginning. It’s due out in eBook version on 24 January 2010, so should warm the chilly New Year, I hope. Here’s the glorious cover art provided by Amber Quill Press:
Ain’t it grand? I am soooo pleased with it I am virtually frothing at the mouth (hell, what an unpleasant image …). Huge thanks to Trace Edward Zaber who produced it! Here’s the blurb:
Male prostitute, Red, is given an assignment by his pimp and lover, Robbie, with a very unusual client. Red meets the stranger in a darkened house in London and, during their sessions, he learns more than he ever knew about lust, love and his own personal history. How will his curious and life-enhancing encounters with the stranger affect his relationship with Robbie and his clients, and can love ever be part of a hooker’s life at all?
Equally fabulous news is that Amber Quill Press have accepted The Hit List for eBook and paperback publication in Spring 2010, hurrah! Still frothing at the mouth then – sorry … So I’ve updated my web page here. No cover art as yet, but I’m very much looking forward to what Trace will come up with.
Finally, on the writing front, I’ve added in a new web page for The Executioner’s Cane, together with an extract, so I’m on the way with that one at last. Hurrah!
Phew! Can the weekend actually get any better? All I really need is for someone to say yes to The Gifting, for Waterstone’s to ring me up begging me to do a signing for them (as if …), and for Mondays to be cancelled everywhere, and my happiness would be complete. Keep wishing, eh.
Earlier in the week, Lord H and I also popped over to the dreaded Car Parking Hell that is Woking and saw Matthew Bourne’s latest ballet, Dorian Gray. Hmm. All very clever, but not a patch on the joys and heartfelt emotions of the male Swan Lake, which has to be Bourne’s best ballet yet. Heck, I could watch that one loads of times and never get bored. For this one, I thought there wasn’t enough colour on the stage or indeed plot, though the dancing was magnificent. You can’t ever emulate Wilde’s magnificent prose in a non-writing format really. If you see what I mean. And I actually did find myself wishing the menfolk would put some clothes on and stop simulating sex on stage quite so much – they must have been freezing, poor things, and it was putting me off my mint choc ice. The aircon in the theatre packs one hell of a punch. Am I turning into my grandmother after all?? God forbid.
And, mixing religion with sex (as ever), Lord H and I have had great fun sorting out the post-church coffees this morning. Ah, if only they knew what I’d been up to during the week in terms of literary and dramatic eroticism, perhaps they wouldn’t be quite so keen on having us smiling like little devils at the back, eh. Oh well.