A Stranger's Touch - published!

The big news of today is that my literary erotic short story, A Stranger's Touch is now published and you can find out further details and buying options at Amber Allure Press. You can also view the book trailer to get a flavour of the story.

I'm also thrilled to say that the lovely Clare London has already read it and has kindly said the following: Just a note to say how much I loved A Stranger's Touch! A lovely lyricism to it, erotically charged, and such delicious tension. I liked especially the way that Red and Robbie's relationship ran underneath it all, how it both contrasted and balanced the hustler/client relationship: the way you showed us the way they worked and lived and loved together, and how the changes in Red affected everyone around him. Thank you so much, Clare - much appreciated! And goodness, but you're a quick reader!

Other nice writing news is that my literary short story, How to Eat Fruit will be published by Untreed Reads Press on 1 February, and you can read the announcement here. So looking forward to that one as well.

Meanwhile, I've received the contract for Give and Take so will send that back to Amber Allure Press this coming week. Post willing. I've also got the ultimate final version of The Gifting sorted, together with a wonderful new blurb, courtesy of my lovely editor Sarah, which you can see on site.

I'm also pleased to say that my short story, A Lonely Place, is now published at the Rose and Thorn Journal so I hope you enjoy the read. It's free!

And, talking of free reads, the final part of Chapter Three of The Prayer Seeker can be found here. And it too has its very own book trailer which you can view here. I'm quite proud of that one - the music is just sooo perfect. In my opinion.

So. Never let it be said that I don't keep busy. Ho ho. Not that I can do much else, mind you, as the car is out of action and I wasn't able to get hold of the RAC at all yesterday - who were way too busy to listen to my cries for help and, understandably, had far more urgent cases to deal with. At least I broke down at home. That was unusually clever of me. However, Lord H has managed to get hold of them this afternoon and they're going to turn up at some point over the next 3.5 hours. I think they meant today, but we'll see, eh.

To keep us all calm and lovely, here's this week's haiku:

Time slips through my skin,
gold and silver droplets fade.
They melt into air.

Anne's website - having a publishing bonanza today
The Prayer Seeker's Blog

Herons and poetry

Having something of a down day today, so bear with me. I've taken two calming pills and am hoping it's the hormones. I keep getting all tearful for no real reason, sigh ... Ah well, no change there then. I blame it on the flow writing I started doing today - which is basically when you start writing and just jot down whatever comes up without thinking about it. Actually I found the whole exercise quite upsetting really - perhaps you have to be strong to do this kind of thing? Or maybe it just needs getting used to. I'm doing it as preparation that's been suggested in my new online poetry course that starts in January. They've also given us a sneak preview of the homework for Weeks 1 and 2, so I've been fiddling around with surreal poetry games and childhood memories. Something of a tricksy combination then ...

Oh, and here's the poem I've been discussing in this week's poetry group. It's a series of linked haikus:

Silence

First of all, seek this:
absence in your outward breath,
a folded wingtip

waiting for the sun.
The silken silence of air
dances on your skin

and you fall, dreaming,
into soft pathway shadows.
Stars and still music.


On the plus side, I've been contacted by my editor for A Stranger's Touch so I'm looking forward to working with her to get that story ready for publication. At the same time - deep, deep sigh - the contract for The Hit List that I sent off on Monday has been delivered back to me as the ruddy UK post office can't understand the concept of "To" and "From" on the address label. When I've stopped being upset and tearful about it, I imagine I'll find it funny. I'm just odd about contracts - once I've signed them, I want them to wing their way back to the publisher, not come limping home to me. I shall ask Lord H to take it in tomorrow and see if they'll try delivering it to the correct people this time. Hey ho.

Yesterday, I walked round campus and was treated to the magical sight of a grey heron on the side of the pond. Quite close too. As it was raining, I was the only person there, which was great. I watched it for a while and, after it flew off, a rather large fish began to jump out of the pond almost as if it was dancing. All very strange. There are sharks in them thar waters, you know.

Meanwhile, today I've had a glorious Clarins massage from the stand-in therapist (my usual one is off sick, poor thing). All incredibly relaxing. I even tried to do some clothes shopping afterwards, but just couldn't bear it once I'd walked into a shop. So had to walk out again. I don't know what it is - but I can't seem to buy any new clothes at the moment. Every time I try, I am overcome by despair and panic. Lord knows what's going on in my head - but if you see a spaced-out woman wandering round the streets looking distinctly threadbare, that'll be me. Please offer me a blanket and send me home.

Anne's website - envious of fish and herons who don't need clothes ...

The pain of thanksgiving

First of all, I must wish all our US friends and contacts a very happy Thanksgiving Day - hope it's all going swimmingly for you. Here at the other side of the water, however, I fear I have been overtaken by a determined wave of period pain (garrrgggghhh ....) so my day of pootling about and novel-writing has turned into a day of rolling around on the bed clutching a hot water bottle, groaning and blinking myopically at the TV. Loose Women was much-needed - aren't they always?... It's a long while since I've had a bout like that - I hope it doesn't mean I'm going back to the old and rather nasty days, as I thought my various operations, pill cocktails and New Age remedies had got the whole dang thing under control. Deep sigh. Or maybe it's the onset of those menopausal years? Ah, Lordy, even deeper sigh. Hey ho, what fun life is.

Anyway, the good news is that I'm feeling much better now and have even eaten some lunch. Still feel utterly shattered and as if I've been put through a mangle twice, but hell that's how I usually feel after a normal day, so no difference there then. I really must get rid of that pesky mangle.

More interesting things that have happened this week are that I've sent in Thorn in the Flesh to Lulu Books ready for republishing that one. I hope it will be fully on the online markets again next year, but really with Amazon, who can tell? They're not known for speed. Have also enjoyed my online poetry course on Wednesday. We had to write a poem which included the Ted Hughes' line: Not a leaf flinched, nobody smiled. Here's my effort:

Night

I carried the darkness on my skin
down to the lake where the air was still.
Not a leaf flinched, nobody smiled
and the swans sailed by as I took my fill

of the deepest blue in the water’s calm.
I gazed at the point where the elements meet –
the pond and the breeze, the flood and the wind,
decisions that lapped at the path by my feet.

When the sky darkened, I drifted away
back to the place where the people are bright.
But a smile is only one kind of truth
and I hold in my heart the knowledge of night.


It's amazing what a depressed lunch-hour slumped on a bench at the University lake will do for you really, and Lordy but some days are like that. I'm also surprised by how much I enjoyed working with a rhyme scheme. Not something I do often, but the course is taking me to places I hadn't anticipated on visiting, and that can only be a good thing.

I've also finally finished my book trailer for A Stranger's Touch, but I've decided not to upload it anywhere until after Christmas, as the book isn't due to be published till the middle of January. So I fear you'll have to wait. All I can say is I'm very pleased with the pictures and music I've managed to find, and I'm sure you'll enjoy it.

I've also been musing on the terrible scenarios in flood-devastated Cumbria - I can't imagine what people must be going through up there and - though it's useless to say - really my every good wish goes out to them. I'm also shocked by the fact that the Government isn't going to be able to mend any of the ruined bridges until Christmas. What the hell sort of a country are we living in??? Lord H says why on earth don't they ask the army to fix the bridges - after all the Royal Engineers can run one up in 18 minutes in a warzone whilst under fire, and their bridges can take the weight of several tanks. It seems like the ideal solution to me, but perhaps the ruddy red tape is just too much for us all these days?? Bureaucracy is truly the death of action.

Meanwhile, back on safer land, I fear that Strictly Come Dancing is buckling under the weight of all those leg & foot injuries. Is it something they're putting in their coffee? Really, this series - despite the joys of the lovely Chris & Ola - is becoming something of a disaster zone in itself ...

Anne Brooke - mangled, mean and magnificent

A Stranger's Touch and The Executioner's Cane

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.

Anne's website - where sex and religion meet together