Alice in Wonderland themed cafe – Publication day celebration at Kitty’s Cake Emporium

When my local paper reported that an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ themed coffee shop was opening up locally I was super excited. I was obsessed with Alice when I was a child, and looking around my study with the amount of quotes and memorabilia I have, perhaps I still am… I immediately contacted Kitty on Facebook to arrange to come and meet her and take some photos and then, before they could properly open, the first lockdown hit.

With one thing and another since then I hadn’t got around to visiting but publication day for my second ‘Amelia Henley’ novel ‘The Art of Loving You’ (my eight published book) rolled around and I wanted to do something to celebrate Jack and Libby’s love story being out in the world. Tea and cake sounded perfect.

Kitty’s Cake Emporium is wondrous, from the minute you arrive outside with the quirky signpost, the entrance hall with the playing cards stuck to the ceiling. This place is small but all my favourite ‘Alice’ scenes are here. Everywhere you turn there is something to look at. The two small rooms downstairs are overflowing with references to the book. Upstairs is mad hatter tea party themed with furniture stuck onto the walls and ceiling. I cannot imagine how long it took to pull this place together but I’m very grateful it exists. It’s very special.

The menu is extensive. Lots of cake and desserts which suited me fine. It was a celebration for my publication day so I felt entitled skip the savoury course and order both rhubarb and ginger crumble and a scone while the rest of my family opted for sundaes. We sat in the back garden which was filled with toadstools and plastic flamingos.

Even the toilets are worth a visit!

The food was homemade and wonderful. Just when we thought our experience was over the bill was brought over in this fabulous box with a lolly with an ‘eat me’ label.

If you love ‘Alice in Wonderland’ or even if you don’t but want a decent lunch at a reasonable price with great service, I’d highly recommend Kitty’s and if you fancy reading a book while you eat, ‘The Art of Loving You’ is available to download for just 99p for August only (also available as a paperback and audio book). Find it via Amazon, Waterstones, Kobo, Google Books, Apple.

Kitty’s website & facebook page & Instagram

The Art of Loving You prologue & why I love prologue – novel writing

Anyone who reads either my Louise Jensen psychological thrillers, or my contemporary Amelia Henley fiction knows I love a prologue. Here I’m sharing the opening of my brand new release, ‘The Art of Loving You’ which you can download for just 99p on any digital platform during August. (Amazon link here).

PROLOGUE

Four phone calls. 

It took four phone calls to tip my world off its axis. I remember them all with sharp clarity; the things I wanted to know, the things I wished I’d never been told. The disbelief, the fear, the hope. The impossible, impossible choice I am faced with. I want everything to slow down. 

Stop.

‘I can’t …’ What I can’t do is look my sister, Alice, in the eye. It’s too much. All of it. 

‘Say yes, Libby.’ She’s crouching before me, reaching for my hand. I snatch mine away. As vivid as the memories of the calls are, it’s the time in between each one I am struggling to recall. Alice says shock has the power to whisk memories behind a hazy curtain, sometimes replacing them with a better, shinier version – the way we wished things were. The way we wished they could have happened – and she’s probably right. Right about that at least, but the rest? I have to remember if I’m to make the right decision. Again, I try to summon a slide show in my mind but the images are as fuzzy as an out-of-focus photo, nothing quite making sense. ‘I think …’ I tail off, unsure what I think. What I know. Alice has been telling me a new life, a better life is what I need. What I deserve. 

That word plucks a hollow laugh deep from my belly. Deserve. Do I deserve … this? 

‘You know what you have to do, Libby.’ Her voice is thick with tears. ‘For your sake. For Jack’s.’ She adds softly, ‘For mine.’ 

Sometimes I hate her. 

Should I do what she is asking? If I agree, it’s an admission that my life has been built on a lie and the childish part of me taunts; why should I give her what she wants when I can’t have what I want? 

‘Please, Libby, please,’ she pleads. ‘I know it’s a big ask. I know you weren’t expecting this – none of us saw it coming but …’ One whispered word. ‘Please.’

Neither of us speak. The clock ticks. In the distance the thrum of a tractor. Alice’s perfume fills my throat, something light and floral.

‘Jack—’

‘Don’t speak his name,’ I snap. 

She flinches but still she doesn’t leave. She’s waiting for an answer as she tucks her long blonde hair behind her ears. My eyes flicker towards the nicotine-yellow ceiling we never did get round to painting bright white, as though I might find the right response written there. 

Yes or no? 

Yes or no? 

Yes or no?

The words are loud. I raise my hands to my head, fingertips digging hard into my scalp. I can’t decide. I won’t.

Jack.

I have to.

Think.

‘You know if I could change things, I would,’ Alice says softly. She places her palm against my cheek; it’s cool and I lean against it, allowing her to take the weight of my head which is heavy with thought. With doubt. For the first time I look at her properly. Her eyes, the same green as mine, are rimmed red. The whites streaked with tiny blood vessels from where she’s been crying. She is no more together than I am. This is a torturous for her as it is for me. ‘If I could go back …’ She falls silent before she can blame herself again. I can’t bear her guilt. Her shame. I have enough of my own.

I shift my gaze around the room which was once warmed with love but now feels as chilly as my cold, cold heart. If we could go back, I would return to the exact moment everything changed. It was the day Jack and I moved in here. I allow my mind to travel, tumbling down the rabbit hole to that ordinary Thursday when it all began. 

The point which had led to this. 

The memories bring me pleasure. 

Pain.

Think.

I have to make my choice.

Yes or no?

I have to give Alice my answer.

Yes or no?

I have to tell her now.

Before it’s too late for her, for me.

For Jack. 

Think.

Choose.

Time is running out. 

Yes or no?

In the opening to ‘The Art of Loving You’ my hope is that I’ve intrigued readers enough to want to read on. To wonder what has happened between Libby, Alice and Jack. Not all of my books have prologues but I do enjoy them as a reader and a writer and you can read more about why I find them so valuable and whether your novel needs one on an earlier blog post here.

If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read you can download ‘The Art of Loving You’ for 99p or order the paperback or audio book via Amazon, Waterstones, Kobo, Google Books, Apple.

New paperbacks & giveaways!

I am THRILLED that the paperbacks for my forthcoming release ‘The Art of Loving You‘ have arrived and they look GORGEOUS. Huge thanks to my editor, Manpreet, and my publisher, HQ Stories for pulling them together.

I can’t quite believe that in just one month my second love story publishes under my pen name ‘Amelia Henley‘. My first, ‘The Life We Almost Had‘ was so well received I’m hoping that Libby and Jack’s story lives up to expectations.

They were so in love . . .
And then life changed forever . . .
Will they find happiness again?
 
Libby and Jack are the happiest they’ve ever been. Thanks to their dear friend, eighty-year-old Sid, they’ve just bought their first house together, and it’s the beginning of the life they’ve always dreamed of.

But the universe has other plans for Libby and Jack and a devastating twist of fate shatters their world.
 
All of a sudden life is looking very different, and unlikely though it seems, might Sid be the one person who can help Libby and Jack move forward when what they loved the most has been lost?

I am so grateful to these authors who have provided such lovely quotes: –

‘An ode to finding the meaning in grief, in our life’s purpose, and in deciding to live and love fully, The Art of Loving You broke my heart and then rebuilt it again. Just gorgeous’ Laura Jane Williams, bestselling author of Our Stop

‘A heart achingly beautiful story of love, grief and hope that reflects on the power of love, family and friendship’ Jules Wake, bestselling author of The Spark

‘Wistfully uplifting, with a sprinkling of the extraordinary – Libby and Jack’s story is a testament to the power of love and the comfort of hope. I loved it!’ Holly Hepburn, author of Coming Home to Brightwater Bay

If you’d like to read this before its publication I’m currently running giveaways to win four signed proof copies. Check out either Instagram or Facebook to enter and for the Ts&Cs.

The Art of Loving You will be released on 22nd July and is available to preorder now via Amazon, Waterstones, Kobo, Google Books, Apple.

Pen Names – Pros & Cons & WHY?

After publishing 6 psychological thrillers under Louise Jensen which is my real name, last year I published my first contemporary fiction book under the pen name Amelia Henley. Since then I’ve been asked so many questions about why I used a different name I thought I’d write a blog post about it.

My publisher told me to.

Shortest post ever? 

Let me expand it then, there are many reasons to use a pen name and multiple pros and cons.

When I first signed a deal for my debut, ‘The Sister‘, it didn’t even cross my mind to use a pseudonym. I was super excited to finally see my name on the cover of a book. It was such a special moment for me, and my family. My son took his friends into Waterstones and showed them and I felt a glow of pride I’d never felt before.  Of course, then, I didn’t realise it would quickly sell over half a million copies and be translated into twenty-five languages and that a LOT of people would read it. This was really only an issue for me during a smear test when the nurse asked me if I’d written ‘The Sister’ and then proceeded to tell me how much she loved Grace and Charlie which was very nice but probably not the time or the place.  Having a disability and subsequently a lot of medical appointments there are times when I’ve wondered whether I’d have been more comfortable using a pseudonym. Not that I assume people have read my books or know my name but, as the smear test palaver demonstrated, you really never know.

If you want to retain anonymity or have some separation between your writing life and another career a pen name can be really useful.  Particularly if you have a name too similar to an established author. Being called Stephen King may not create any confusion in day-to-day life but in publishing…

There are many other reasons authors use pen names. Reinvention is one of them. An author who hasn’t had the best sales and wants to begin again, or, as in my case, an author who wants to try a different genre.

My publisher (HQ/Harper Collins) loved my debut love story but wanted a separation from my thriller brand (I’m very uncomfortable with the word brand btw). This was liberating in that I could bring something out with no reader expectations and no fear of judgement because although ‘The Life We Almost Had’ is ultimately a tear-jerking love story there is a sci-fi element to it and I wasn’t sure how it would be received. The downside being I had to set up social media accounts in a new name and running two of everything is quite time consuming. In the end my publisher suggested we use ‘Amelia’ as an open pseudonym which was a relief, some publishers have it written into contracts you can’t tell anyone for a stipulated period of time and I am rubbish at keep secrets.

So, who choses the pen name?

My editor wanted me to come up with suggestions I was happy with but then these needed to be run past the marketing department for their approval.

Amelia Henley is the only name I put forward and I’m thankful they approved it because it is very personal. I have three children and for ‘Amelia’ I took two letters from each of their names. ‘Henley’ is an extremely special name to our family.

It’s worked out really well for me having two names (which is just as well as I have a second Amelia book – ‘The Art of Loving You‘ – publishing this July and a new thriller coming in October). One of my career highs and a completely ‘mind blown’ moment was last autumn when both ‘The Life We Almost Had‘ and ‘The Stolen Sisters‘ were published in paperback and I walked into Tesco and saw them both on a shelf together.

If you’re a writer and thinking of using or have a pen name I’d love to hear of your experience and how you chose yours.

The Life We Almost Had’ is currently in its 3rd week at No.1 in Germany and UK readers can currently download the kindle book for just 99p for a limited time from Amazon here.

If thrillers are more your thing both ‘The Surrogate‘ and ‘The Date‘ are also 99p for a short time.

Cover Reveal! My brand new book!

I am absolutely THRILLED to share the gorgeous cover from my forthcoming ‘Amelia Henley’ novel – ‘The Art of Loving You‘.

The response to my debut contemporary fiction novel ‘The Life We Almost Had’ was so positive I feel excited rather than nervous to be publishing my second standalone love story this summer, although I expect that to change on the lead up to the big day…

For those of you who fell in love with Adam and Anna, prepare to meet Libby and Jack. My editor says this story broke her heart and then put it back together again.

I can’t wait to share more details over the next few months, particularly when it comes to Sid, the eighty year old man who was meant to feature briefly in the story but had such a huge personality he kind of took over (although he was such a joy to write I didn’t mind).

The Art of Loving You will be available as a paperback, ebook and audiobook and you can pre order right now. Find it on Amazon here, Waterstones here, or any other digital or indie bookshop.  

For now, I’ll leave you with the blurb: – 

They were so in love . . .
And then life changed forever . . .
Will they find happiness again?
 
Libby and Jack are the happiest they’ve ever been. Thanks to their dear friend, eighty-year-old Sid, they’ve just bought their first house together, and it’s the beginning of the life they’ve always dreamed of.

But the universe has other plans for Libby and Jack and a devastating twist of fate shatters their world.
 
All of a sudden life is looking very different, and unlikely though it seems, might Sid be the one person who can help Libby and Jack move forward when what they loved the most has been lost?
 
The Art of Loving You is a beautiful love story for our times. Romantic and uplifting, it will break your heart and then put it back together again.

* * * *

Praise for Amelia Henley:

‘A love story with a definite difference . . . intensely emotional’
Best

‘Beautifully written and plotted. Get ready for the final chapter – you have been warned’
Candis

‘Intriguing, unusual and intensely romantic’
Sunday Mirror

An inadequate thank you to book bloggers

I didn’t blog much in 2020 –I didn’t feel I had much to say, if I’m honest I still don’t.  We all know how terrible the year was. As a family, we’ve faced challenges the same as everybody else; illness, hospital admissions, bereavement, an accident, a decline in health, the list is endless. My creativity was non-existent, my productivity poor.

During the first lockdown I spent weeks wondering how I could write alongside home schooling and my husband working from home. This morphed into what I should write, my mind was too cluttered to think clearly. Pre-pandemic I’d been writing psychological thrillers in the morning and contemporary fiction in the afternoons but I knew I no longer had the mental capacity to do this. I had an idea for an Amelia Henley book but publishing my debut love story during a pandemic had been hugely challenging and I wasn’t certain there was a future for Amelia.

Finally I spent the last few months of the year contemplating whether I should write at all. Had I lost my love for it? 2020 was the longest stretch I hadn’t written anything in years. Perhaps it was time to do something else entirely. 

Then came the end of year blogs, the ‘Best Books of 2020’. It’s always so rewarding to see my books featured on these lists and to see multiple entries for ‘The Stolen Sisters’ was hugely gratifying.

But then came something unexpected. I checked my ‘Amelia Henley’ social media channels not expecting any notifications but there was. I was overwhelmed to see ‘The Life We Almost Had’ featured on numerous ‘Top Ten’ book blogs and even voted book of the year.

I cried and then I replied to the posts I’d been tagged in on to say thank you but thank you doesn’t quite convey just how life affirming and life changing these blog posts have been. 

Today, I sat at my computer for the first time what feels like forever and wrote two small words I wasn’t sure I’d ever write again, ‘Chapter One’ and I feel nervous, excited and above all hopeful, to begin a fresh Amelia Henley story, to have new characters to get to know.

In this post I wanted to try and express, but fear I am failing the importance of book bloggers. How they have allowed me to regroup, refocus.

To try.

Thank you doesn’t quite cut it but I don’t know what else to say.

You really do make a difference. 

Prologue – The Stolen Sisters & does your novel need one?

I began writing my debut, ‘The Sister‘, for fun. It was meant to be a short story. I hadn’t written any fiction as an adult and I hadn’t any qualifications other than a clutch of GCSE’s. I never believed I could write a book. I had always thought that to be a published novelist you needed a wealth of experience and a degree in creative writing.

When it got to the point that my ‘short story’ had reached 90k words I began to tentatively hope I could edit it to a high enough standard where I’d dare to submit it. Out of my depth, I was so grateful when a writer I met at an event offered to read the opening 3 chapters for me. I didn’t check where she was published, or how she was published. The fact she was in print led me to believe she knew absolutely everything.

Her overriding feedback was that my prologue was a huge mistake, ‘”readers hate them, agents hate them and publishers hate them. If you submit something with a prologue it won’t be read.”

I felt my face burn with embarrassment. I didn’t know the rules and I’d been found out for the imposter that I was.

Immediately I deleted my prologue, but now, several books on and with over a million copies sold I’m familiar with most of the rules and (whispers) here’s the thing. There aren’t any.

That writer, as it turned out, was right that ‘The Sister‘ shouldn’t have a prologue, but not for the reasons she said.Her overriding feedback was that my prologue was a huge mistake, ‘”readers hate them, agents hate them and publishers hate them. If you submit something with a prologue it won’t be read.”That writer, as it turned out, was right that ‘The Sister‘ shouldn’t have a prologue, but not for the reasons she said.

The prologue wasn’t needed. It didn’t serve a purpose and in a novel, every single scene, every single word needs to earn its place, prologue included. After The Sister spent two months at No. 1 I found the confidence to include a prologue in my second psychological thriller, ‘The Gift‘, because no matter what that writer said about people hating prologues, I don’t and first and foremost I’m a reader. I don’t write one for every book because not every story warrants one.

So how do I decide when to use one? ‘The Stolen Sisters’ (currently 99p in the Amazon Kindle Deal) is my latest thriller and I’ll use it as an example, I’ve included the prologue below.

Prologue

When Carly looked back at that day the memory was in shades of grey; the trauma had sucked the blue from the sky, the green from the freshly mown grass. She had sat on the back doorstep, the coolness of the concrete permeating through her school skirt, the late-afternoon sun warming her bare arms. Carly remembers now the blackness of a beetle scurrying down the path before it disappeared into the soil under the rose bush. The stark white of the twins’ socks, bunched below their knees.

Inconsequential details that later the police would jot in their notebooks as though Carly was somehow being a great help but she knew she wasn’t, and worse than that, she knew it was entirely her fault.

It had all been so frustratingly normal. Leah and Marie had shrieked in mock disgust as Bruno, their boxer, bounded towards them, drool spilling from his jowls. But their screams then still carried an undercurrent of happiness, not like later when their cries were full of fear and there was nowhere to run to.

The things that have stayed with Carly are this. 

The way her fingers gripped the cumbersome Nokia in her hand as though she was clutching a secret. Her annoyance as she angled her screen to avoid the glare, never dreaming that soon she would be craving daylight. 

Fresh air. 

Space. 

The pounding in her head increasing as the girls bounced a tennis ball between them across the patio. The way she had snapped at the twins as though it was their fault Dean Malden hadn’t text her. Of all the things that she could, that she should, feel guilty about, she had never forgiven herself that the last words she spoke to her sisters before they were all irrevocably damaged was in anger rather than kindness.

Although in truth, she had never forgiven herself for any of it.

‘Shut up!’ She had roared out her frustration that the first boy she loved had shattered her thirteen-year-old heart. Crazy now to recall that she once thought the absence of a text was the end of the world. There were far worse things. Far worse people than the floppy-haired blond boy who had let her down. 

Her younger sisters turned to her, identical green eyes wide. Marie’s sight trained on Carly’s face as she chucked the ball for Bruno. Carly’s irritation grew as she watched it fly over the fence.

‘For God’s sake.’ She stood, brushing the dust from the back of her sensible pleated skirt. ‘It’s time to come in.’

‘But that’s not fair.’ Marie looked stricken as her gaze flickered towards the fence.

‘Life isn’t fair,’ Carly said feeling a bubbling resentment that at eight years old the twins had it easy.

‘Can you fetch our ball, please, Carly?’ Marie pleaded.

‘Fetch it yourself,’ Carly snapped.

‘You know we’re not allowed out of the garden on our own until we’re ten,’ Marie said. 

‘Yeah, well I’m in charge today and I’m saying you can. It’s not like we live in a city. Nothing ever happens in this dump.’ Carly was sick of living somewhere so small where everyone knew everyone else’s business. Where everyone would know by tomorrow that Dean Malden had rejected her. ‘Be quick and shut the gate properly.’ 

She turned and pushed open the back door, stepping into the vast kitchen that never smelled of cakes or bread. It never smelled of anything except freshly roasted coffee. Carly clattered her phone onto the marble island and yanked open the fridge door. The shelves that were once stocked with stilton and steak and that had groaned under the weight of fresh fruit and vegetables, were woefully bare. There was nothing except a shrivelled cucumber and some out-of-date hummus. It was all right for her mum and stepdad out for the evening at yet another corporate function. They spent more time on the business than with their children nowadays, although Mum had assured her it wouldn’t be for much longer. She’d soon be at home more but in the meantime it was left to Carly to sort out tea again. She had loved her half-sisters fiercely since the day they were born but sometimes she wished mum still paid the retired lady down the road to babysit but since Carly had turned thirteen mum felt that she was responsible enough. 

She sighed as she crossed to the shelf above the Aga and lifted the lid from the teapot. Inside was a £10 note. Chips for tea. She wondered whether the money would stretch to three sausages or if they should split a battered cod.

Minutes later the twins tumbled into the kitchen.

‘Yuck.’ Leah dropped the tennis ball coated with slobber into the wicker basket where Bruno kept his toys.

‘Wash your hands,’ Carly snapped as she checked her phone again.

Nothing.

What had she done wrong? She had thought Dean liked her.

Marie perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, swinging her legs, the toes of her shoes thudding against the kick board. How was Carly supposed to hear her text alert over that? Marie had her chin in her hands, her mouth downturned; she hated being in trouble. Carly could see the way her lip trembled with upset but she couldn’t help yelling again.

‘Shut. Up.’

Marie slid off the stool. ‘I . . . I left my fleece in the garden.’

Carly jerked her head towards the door in a go-and-get-it-gesture before she clicked on the radio. The sound of Steps flooded the room. Marie paused and momentarily their sisterly bond tugged at them all. ‘5, 6, 7, 8’ was one of their favourite songs. Usually they’d fall into line and dance in synchronicity.

‘Let’s do this!’ Marie flicked her red hair over her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips.

‘It’s childish,’ Carly snapped although inside her shoes, her toes were tapping.

‘It doesn’t work unless we all do it.’ Marie’s voice cracked. ‘We have to be together.’ 

Carly pulled the scrunchie she’d been wearing like a bracelet from her wrist and smoothed her long fair hair back into a ponytail. The twins got into position. Waited. Carly reached for her phone and tried to ignore the pang of meanness that flitted through her as the smile slipped from Leah’s face. Marie’s small shoulders rounded as she headed back outside.

Minutes later she raced back in, socked feet skidding across the tiles, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. ‘Bruno’s got out. The gate was open.’

‘For God’s sake.’ Carly could feel the anger in her chest form a cold, hard ball. It was one of the last times she ever allowed herself to truly feel. ‘Who shut the gate?’

Marie bit her lower lip. 

‘I did,’ said Leah, slipping her shoes back on. 

‘You’re supposed to bang it until it latches, you idiot. You know it’s broken. Three times. You bang it three times.’

The girls pelted into the garden, calling the dog’s name. 

Marie hesitated at the gate. ‘Perhaps we should wait—’ Under her freckles, her skin was pale. She’d been off school yesterday with a stomach-ache and although she’d gone back today, she didn’t look well. Carly knew she should ask if she was feeling okay but instead she shoved her roughly into the street. ‘It’s your fault, Marie. You search that way.’ She pointed down the avenue lined with beech trees. 

Marie grabbed Leah’s hand.

‘No,’ Carly snapped. ‘Leah can come with me.’ The twins could be silly where they were together and she had enough to worry about without them getting into trouble.

‘But I want . . .’ Marie began.

‘I don’t care what you want. Move.’ Carly grabbed Leah’s arm and led her in the opposite direction, towards the cut-through at the side of their house which led to the park.

It all happened so quickly that afterwards Carly couldn’t remember which order it all came in. The balaclava-clad face looming towards hers. The forearm around her neck, the gloved hand clamped over her mouth. The sight of Leah struggling against arms that restrained her. The scraping sound of her shoe as she was dragged towards the van at the other end of the alley. The sight of Marie, almost a blur, flying towards the second man also clad in black, who held her twin, pummelling him with her small fists. 

‘Stop! You can’t do this! Don’t take her. I don’t want you to take her!’

The soft flesh compacting against hard bone as Carly bit down hard on the fingers that had covered her mouth.

‘Run!’ she had screamed at Marie as the man who held Leah grabbled to find something of Marie’s he could hold onto, clutching at her collar, her ginger pigtails, as she dodged his grasp.

‘Run!’

I decided to use a prologue for this story, not only because it’s an instant hook, but because I wanted to begin twenty years before I started the story proper. There was vital information I wanted the reader to know. The girls are snatched in the prologue but Chapter One immediately move on to the girls as adults and we learn they were returned without any abuse. As a mother the only way I could write about missing children was if we know straight away that the girls were safe and the prologue enabled me to do this. We do, as the novel prgoresses, delve back into the past where we see, not how the girls were taken, but why and in the present it’s all about what happens when their abductor reappears on the twenty year anniversary of their abduction.

To read more of the Sinclair sisters’ story download the digital version of the book for just 99p for a limited time only across all digital platforms. You can find The Stolen Sisters on Amazon, iBooks, Kobo, Google books & Waterstones.

It’s also a Fern Britton book club pick and a special edition with extra content is available at Tesco. You can also find ‘The Stolen Sisters’ at Asda, shortly at Sainsbury’s and as an audiobook on Audible.

Two of my other books (with prologues!) are also in Amazon’s October sale. Download ‘The Gift‘ or my Amelia Henley debut love story with a twist ‘The Life We Almost Had.‘ (you can read the prologue for this here.)

Giveaways! Live Launch – The Stolen Sisters! Free Books!

Next week – next week!! I can’t believe it’s almost publication day for my 6th psychological thriller – The Stolen Sisters.  The early reviews have been AMAZING with readers calling it my best book so far. The Sinclair sisters, Leah, Marie and Carly really hold a special place in my heart and I can’t wait to share more about them over the next few weeks, as well as the creepy real life location the story is set in.

For now I’d like to invite you to my Facebook and IG online launch, next Wednesday at 8pm GMT. My wonderful publisher, HQ Stories/Harper Collins, have donated some brilliant prizes which I’ll be giving away during the launch. If you’re a Facebook user pop over to the event here and enter the draws or you can also find them on Insta here. I’ll also be giving away something extra on the night.

Fortnum & Masons have generously donated one of their fabulous hampers which you can be in with a chance to win if you pre-order (or have already pre-ordered) the book. Check out their competition here.

While I’m here I’ll mention that my debut love story with a big twist ‘The Life We Almost Had’ (written under my pen name Amelia Henley) is currently 99p on Amazon and across all digital platforms.

I’m so touched by the love readers have shown Adam & Anna and by the press coverage.

‘Intriguing, unusual & intensely romantic’ Sunday Mirror

‘A love story with a definite difference . . . intensely emotional’ Best

‘Beautifully written & plotted. Get ready for the final chapter – you have been warned’ Candis

It was a dream come true to spot in on a shelf in Tesco while I was doing my shopping. Trust me, there was a HUGE smile behind my mask.

If you want to read about the unimaginable lengths Anna has to go to in order to have a second chance at first love with Adam  download “The Life We Almost Had’ from Amazon, iBooks, Kobo or Google. It is NOT a typical love story.

A second chance at novel writing – What would you wish for?

In my debut love story with a twist, Adam and Anna can’t envisage life without each other but the universe has entirely different plans for them. After a tragedy forces them apart they long to be together once more and fix their damaged relationship. ‘The Life We Almost Had’ is a story of hope, regret, courage and loyalty and explores the immeasurable lengths the couple will go to for a second chance at first love, even when the consequences of finding each other once more are potentially life shattering. This is not a typical love story but sometimes, just sometimes, the seemingly impossible can become possible in the most unexpected way.

Publishing this book is a dream come. As a child I longed to be an author. I was obsessed with mysteries, devouring Enid Blyton’s Famous Five and Secret Seven books, writing my own series called ‘The Fantastic Five’ (**not copied at all**) and illustrating them with stick men drawings. It was when I read Little Women though that my vague hope to be published transmuted into a fierce desire. I wanted to take readers through the spectrum of emotions I had felt when reading Louisa May Alcott’s classic. I wanted readers to root for my characters, to celebrate their highs but more than any of that, I wanted to make them cry. My reviews so far have been stunning. Readers have really fallen for Adam and Anna in a big way, loving them as much as I do, and have thankfully been fascinated by the unusual concept.

It almost didn’t happen.

I remember with clarity, sitting in front of my careers advisor at school, holding out my dreams, hoping she’d help me make them come true.

She didn’t, and worse than that she laughed. People like me didn’t become writers apparently. I had no higher education. No contacts in publishing. It would be impossible for me to break into the world I longed to be part of and even if I did, she told me I would never be able to earn a living from it.

I carried my shattered dreams and my shattered heart outside and although I didn’t initially just give up, I was at a loss to know how to fulfil my ambition. There wasn’t the internet then to research the steps I could take. I asked in libraries, bookshops, colleges. I did everything I could… except actually write a book which seemed fruitless.

It was over twenty years later that my life changed in an instant. A car accident exacerbated a pre-existing health condition, as well as causing new damage, and I could no longer weight bear, reliant on a wheelchair and crutches to move around. Chronic pain was my constant companion and it didn’t take long for clinical depression to set in too. As well as losing my mobility I lost my identity, I wasn’t sure who I was, what I could do. I had spent years building a career which had fallen apart.

It was my spinal consultant who suggested I get a hobby. Try to forge a new life. Initially I couldn’t think of what I could do, my previous pastimes of horse riding and running no longer possible but then I remembered how much I used to love writing and tentatively I put pen to paper.

Writing Adam and Anna has been cathartic. It’s a hugely emotional story and through the characters, I’ve worked through many of my own complicated feelings – letting go of the life I almost had, and embracing the one I have.

My mobility will never be the same as it was, second chances sometimes come at a price, as Adam and Anna discover during the story, but I’m so glad I got one, being a full time author really is a dream come true.

If you could have a second chance at something, what would it be?

The Life We Almost Had‘ is currently 99p across all digital platforms. Download it from Amazon, iBooks, Kobo or Google.

As well as on Amazon, you can find the paperback in Tesco, or Waterstones or support your local bookstore. Book stores are always happy to order in a title they don’t have in stock.

Book Clubs – The good, the bad & the boring… #reading

I love discussing books. All of my novels have book club questions at the back and writing questions that I know will spark interesting discussions is such a joy.

I’ve always been an avid reader. As a child I was the only one in my family who read, my friends didn’t seem to share the same intense love of books that I did and subsequently I always felt a little… odd.

After having children, some of the other mums at the school gate suggested forming a book club and I was overjoyed. Every fortnight, for three hours I’d be able to talk about plot, characters, twists. I couldn’t wait.

What actually happened was we met in a bar. Whoever chose the book would say ‘it was ok,’ most people hadn’t read it and then we’d drink and talk about our kids. We had some good nights but…

When I moved to a new area I googled ‘book clubs’ and much to my joy I found one. I emailed the organiser who, after asking me a lot of questions, invited me along to the next session. I immediately bought their current read and when it came curled up in an armchair determined to finish it before the meeting.

It. Was. A. Slog.

I’m all for broadening my horizons and reading outside my usual genres but on the first page alone I had to look up multiple words in the dictionary and that carried throughout the novel (I don’t use the word story here because I wasn’t convinced there was one).

I went along to the group, clutching my paperback, looking forward to meeting new people and hearing what they thought. They had A LOT of thoughts. I needed my dictionary again. I sat miserably nursing my cooling coffee (“we may meet in a pub but we don’t drink alcohol while we’re discussing literature, Louise”) and I felt out of my depth, stupid. Lonely. I never went back.

It’s taken years but finally I have found a book club full of members who are friendly, welcoming and love reading as much as I do. Surprisingly it’s online which I always thought would feel detached but, over time, I’ve got to know a lot of the members who I now class as friends. This Facebook group, The Fiction Café, is run by Wendy Clarke who is one of the nicest people I have met (and this group do physically get together for events when they can). I’m in awe of her and the admins who put in hours tirelessly running author live events and buddy read alongs. My only fault with this group is that every time I drop by I end up buying recommendations and my TBR pile is out of control!! If you’re a book lover of any genre do check them out here.

Also, a shout out to Book Connectors run by super blogger Anne Cater. This group is a mixture of bloggers, authors and readers and I love reading the bloggers book posts about forthcoming releases they have already had the chance to read. There’s also some interesting discussions about publishing in this group. Anne doesn’t stand for any nonsense and it feels like a very safe space to speak. You can find Book Connectors here.

My publisher HQ, Harper Collins, is currently hosting an online book club every Thursday afternoon. This Thursday I’m the featured author and will be talking about my newly published debut contemporary fiction book ‘The Life We Almost Had’ written under my penname Amelia Henley. With my research taking me from Lanzarote to Magdalen College in Oxford where I studied neuroscience there’s LOTS to talk about with this very unusual love story.

If you haven’t read the book yet you can buy it this week for 99p across all digital platforms – links below. If you buy the Kindle version (or have already bought it) you can add the audiobook for just £3.47.

Do give it a read and join my Thursday at 3pm GMT on my Facebook author page and I’ll be answering all your questions. Here’s a link to the prologue if you want a taster.

The Life We Almost Had‘ is currently 99p across all digital platforms during August. Download it from Amazon, iBooks, Kobo or Google.

You can preorder the paperback from Amazon or Waterstones prior to its 3rd September release or support your local bookstore.