Countdown: ready to meet the Liddell sisters?

Thursday is the big day. Like most authors I’m filled with excitement and trepidation. Will anyone notice it, read it? Like my new book? It’s a voyage into the unknown.

Writing a book is often similar to a journey. You have a bunch of characters whom you pick to take with you, a landscape you’re going to explore with them and a plot that keeps them engaged with each other. Along the way, your characters evolve, the scenery decides to alter and the plot deviates from the original structure. Fortunately, the end point of my book remained the same, I always knew the destination, and there’s nothing more satisfying then having everything reach that point safely.

How does The Last Thing She Said begin? With three sisters – Leia and Rebecca, who are twins, and Naomi, their younger sister. Each woman is on the verge of making a big decision in her life. But first a family tradition …

 

Every June the first, Naomi’s eldest sister visited their grandmother, insisting whoever was available on the day be towed along to watch Gran blow out a candle on her birthday cake and fall asleep with feigned exhaustion.

‘I’ve baked a cake,’ Rebecca announced over the telephone to Naomi. ‘You’re coming, and we’ll pick up Leia on the way to the house.’

Naomi behaved exactly as Rebecca would expect – like a grumpy teenager impatiently waiting to turn twenty. ‘Oh, God, do we have to take her? You know Leia hates all the mumbo jumbo that Gran spouts. She’d have her in one of those sheltered housing places.’

‘Gran’s not that old. If it wasn’t for Granddad passing away, she’d still be sprightly and full of beans.’

‘And in her right mind. Why do we put up with all this nonsense? Her clairvoyance? This “I can see the future” business?’

‘She doesn’t see it. She hears it,’ Rebecca corrected with infuriating precision. ‘It doesn’t do anyone any harm, so leave her to it.’

‘Harm? No, I suppose not.’ Naomi hung up and closed her bedroom door, blocking out the scrape of bow against string. She’d taken up residence with an ambitious violinist who preferred to practise in the hallway, sandwiched between the front door and the bottom of the stairs, where she claimed the acoustics were good. The budding Nicola Benedetti was in full flight of the bumble bee mode and unlikely to stop practising for a few days due to her impending recital. Naomi preferred the hallowed practice rooms of the university.

A trip to Gran’s cosy house wasn’t a bad idea.

 

The Last Thing She Said is available on pre-order at Amazon, and will be released on Kindle Unlimited and in print.

 

“Beware of a man named Frederick and his offer of marriage.”

Rose’s granddaughters, Rebecca, Leia and Naomi, have never taken her prophecies seriously. But now that Rose is dead, and Naomi has a new man in her life, should they take heed of this mysterious warning?

Naomi needs to master the art of performing. Rebecca rarely ventures out of her house. She’s afraid of what she might see. As for Rebecca’s twin, everyone admires Leia’s giant brain, but now the genius is on the verge of a breakdown.

Rebecca suspects Naomi’s new boyfriend is hiding something. She begs Leia, now living in the US, to investigate.

Leia’s search takes her to a remote farm in Ohio on the trail of the truth behind a tragic death.

Just who is Ethan? And what isn’t he telling Naomi?

In a story full of drama and mystery, the sisters discover there is more that connects them than they realise, and that only together can they discover exactly what’s behind Rose’s prophecy.

 

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Sh – don’t tell anyone!

The biggest challenge I face in publishing The Women of Heachley Hall is keeping quiet. When you want to sell your book, have it read by countless millions (or realistically a few thousand!), then they want to know what they’re getting, don’t they?

When I sought feedback on the draft manuscripts, my friendly readers fell into two camps: those whom I gave some indication of the story, others, including my editor, to whom I gave next to nothing away. The outcome was quite clear. The less said the better!

So, shush, don’t tell anyone Heachley’s secret. Let everyone else find out for themselves.

hush