Merry Christmas!

OK, my last blog post before the big old celebrations begin...I am bought, wrapped, stocked and ready to roll!!!!
I am home this year with my own little family, my parents and brother - looking forward to it in a 'have I got everything?' sort of way. The wine rack is fully stocked so what can go wrong???
With regard to news, The Sharp Points of a Triangle is due for release on Jan 7th so if you want an e-copy you can go straight to my publisher's website, www.eternalpress.ca or buy a paperback from me a couple of weeks later. To tickle your tastebuds, here's an excerpt...See you in 2010!!!!!
Turning away from the window, I exhale a long breath. Jamie. Jamie
Young. How can he be here? The shock of seeing the boy who took my
virginity in the back of his canary-yellow Mini, is slowly giving way to
outright panic. He’d left Bristol without as much as a goodbye kiss,
leaving eighteen-year-old me heartbroken and changed forever.
But then, seeing him again now, gives me the chance to show him
that very little of the woman he left behind exists today. I can show him
how I’ve changed, how strong, and focused and sexy I am.
I lower myself onto the cushioned window seat and swallow hard.
The chemistry between us in the Oak Suite had been crackling so loudly,
it had been on the tip of my tongue to ask Mr. Baxter if he’d heard it too.
Am I really strong enough to resist acting on it? With a quick, clearing
shake of my head, I pick up my bag and take out my mobile.
Punching in my best friend’s number, I wait for her to answer.
“Hello?”
“Sam, it’s me.”
“Hey, you! How’s it going? Baxter tried to seduce you yet?”
“Will you stop that? It wasn’t funny the first time and it isn’t funny
now.”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” she giggles. “How’s it going then?”
I close my eyes and press the phone to my ear. “Okay.”
“That’s it, just okay?”
I take a deep breath. “No, I mean, okay, as in here goes.”
“Oooh, sounds exciting. What is it? Have you seen someone
famous?”
“Nope. Listen. Who is the one person I always say I never want to see
again as long as I live?”
“Male or female?”
“Male.” My teeth are clamped together and my eyes screwed into
slits.
There’s a long pause. “Jamie?”
My breath comes out in a rush. “The one and only.”
“But what’s Jamie got to do…? He’s there?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wow, you haven’t seen him in…”
“Six years!” I finish for her. “I don’t know what to do.”
I hear her draw in a breath. “I’ll tell you what you do, you make sure
you look bloody fantastic and then you make him beg.”
“But I’m not sure I can,” I say, pressing a hand to the wave of
queasiness gliding through my intestines. “He looks so...”
“Yes, you can. When he pissed off to make his fucking fortune in
Edinburgh or wherever it was, you were a desperate, spotty, lovesick…”
“God, keep going, why don’t you?” I say, miserably.
“But now look at you,” she exclaims. “You’re gorgeous, single, fancyfree
and just happen to be the youngest IFA in the country.”
“The South West.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. The point is you are going to drive him insane
with the desire to have you.”
Despite the nervous tremors taking over my body, I find myself
grinning. Sam is the best friend any girl could ask for. “Do you really
think I can?”
“What? Make him want to bend you over a hay bale? Hell, yes!”
“Sam!”
She laughs. “You’ll have him begging for mercy in no time.”
“But who says I want him?”
“Has he lost his looks then? Is he all hairy and fat and built like
Homer Simpson?”
I close my eyes and bring Jamie’s face to my mind’s eye. Six foot two
with sandy-blonde hair, eyes of the deepest green which either dance
with humour or seduce with attentive admiration. Shoulders broad and
strong, hands that could steady a girl with a mere press to the small of
her back.
“Hannah? Are you still there?”
I sit bolt upright. What the hell am I doing? Jamie Young told me he
loved me and then as soon as the opportunity came to leave, he took it.
The man has been obsessed with money since I was fifteen and he was
seventeen. Well, by the look of him now, he’s got exactly what he wants.
His entire demeanour screams of success.
Well, he can piss off because all I’m interested in now is my own
success, and I don’t need him distracting me from that goal. In fact, he
can keep those damn bedroom eyes and shoulders as wide as a tow
truck far away from me and my career.
“Hello? Earth calling Hannah.”
“I’ve got to go,” I say.
“What? We were talking about Jamie. Is he…”
“Look, there’s someone at the door,” I lie. “I’ll ring you tomorrow.”
I turn off the phone and throw it on to the bed as though it’s scalding
me. Reel yourself in, Hannah. Reel yourself in right now. You, my girl,
have got a job to do.