I initially wrote the first chapter of Army Daddy for S.Y.T.Y.C.W 2012 and although it didn't place I knew it was a story I had to write till the very end. For some reason the whole story grabbed me and chatted happily away in my head until I had it all down.
It sat on my computer for a while and a friend of mine who writes pocket novels for My Weekly gave me the low down on them and said what great people they were to work with. So with this in mind I sent off a query and the first three chapters, to be honest with you I was being a chicken by not sending in the full. I have sent another query but again chickened out on sending the full manuscript.
I received a reply and was asked by the editor to make a few changes to my Army Daddy synopsis. The editor Maggie gave me invaluable feedback on the new synopsis and with this in mind I tore my manuscript to pieces, deleting 35k words out of it. I can hear you all gasping at the amount that went in the recycle bin, but in order to make the small changes it was the only way I could do it and then copied and pasted the rest back in. It took me two weeks to make the changes and put it all back together.
The waiting began again to see if the full was good enough to be chosen as a pocket novel another few changes were then asked of me. I can take criticism when it comes to my work because it only helps you to strengthen your story and make it ten times better than what it was.
I waited again and this time it was killing me, an overbearing sense of dread had taken over and I now thought it would be rejected on the spot. For days I waited for the rejection email to come and politely tell me that my story wasn't suitable for publication. But then an email came asking me where my manuscript was. I thought this was strange and so sent about four from different email address including my husband's. Finally after my blonde moment (yes i am actually a blonde :) ) passed I relaised that I had sent it in the wrong format, so my precious MS wouldn't have gone anywhere but the spam folder. oops not a great way to endear yourself to the editor.
Luckily Maggie was patient and send me an email saying she had now received it and all was ok, so I waited a bit longer, still unable to shake of the rejection feeling. I even told my friend who already has had several published that she hadn't taken it even though nothing had actually been said. I had just jumped to a conclusion without any reason.
Then as my husband and I were walking the dog through our local park, we decided to stop for a cup of tea. I checked my emails on my phone as I waited and there sat the dreaded email, OK so I had been waiting for it but I didn't want to know what it said. Closing my emails again I put the phone in my pocket, It didn't stay there long as I knew that at some point I would need to look at what it said.
The email said quite the opposite of what I had expected, it was an acceptance. I couldn't believe it when I tried to read the email to my husband a few minutes later, it was hard for me to get the words out to say anything. I sounded more like a mouse, he took the phone off me and read it for himself. He was just as excited as I was.
It will be out in the summer and I can't wait to see it in WHSMITH and the supermarkets.
I'm not sure my new query will be accepted because of the heroine's back story which I am unfortunately all too familiar with, but if it isn't I will keep on trying.
Tuesday, 26 March 2013
Gah, I've had a nasty chest infection. This blogpost has been started and discarded a dozen times. My chest is full of, well we won't go there, and my brain is cotton wool. To say nothing of the fact I have a severe case of disembodied body parts with my fingers have a mind of their own when they hit the keys.
Rose is a bit like that. Now if you remember she lived in Regency times, where a lot of things might happen.. but were never talked about openly. So that made it doubly hard for an unmarried woman to do anything out of the ordinary. Unless you had help..
A Rose Between The Thornes is a sequel to Please A Lady. A nice little romance, about Rose Sophia and The Thorne twins.
Propriety is a lonely bedfellow, until twin delights show this lady her true desires. At three and forty Rose Sophia, Lady Symonds has resigned herself to life passing her by. Overhearing her protegee in the throes of passion with not one but two lovers, leaves her wanting and wishing. That is until she is accosted at a ball by Jasper and Nathaniel Thorne. Newly back in the county the eccentric and much younger twins, have their sights on Rose, and they are determined to have her, even if it means cheating at cards.
Will accepting their wager free Rose and lead her to the heights of passion she craves? Or will their desire drive her away?
And a wee tease…
It was hard not to feel envious when you knew your niece had not one, but two lusty lovers. Sometimes it seemed, together. Rose Sophia, Lady Symons, held back a sigh. She wasn't sure if she should be outraged or envious - she thought it should be the former but rather suspected it was the latter.
Her lips moved as she cursed under her breath. Blue, her miniature greyhound, had decided to get out of her bedchamber and scamper along the myriad of hallways in the town house Sophia shared with her neice. Blue knew who kept a supply of treats for her, and where.
She had nosed open Hermione's withdrawing room door before Sophia could stop her. About to follow and make her apologies, Sophia was halted in her tracks by a very recognizable drawling voice.
“As well ‘tis only the dog for what your aunt would say to see us both bollock naked and fucking to oblivion, I dare not think.”
There was a sigh, and a groan, and she could swear, the sound of balls on flesh.Sophia's juices gathered at the apex of her thighs and damped her quim, and her skin prickled. Voyeur she was not, but the pictures those words conjured up were climax-inducing.
“Perchance she would wish she was receiving the same attentions from others? Or is she, and we know not?” Another equally recognizable voice, followed by the lighter tones of her niece, somewhat breathless but nevertheless recognizable.
“That is not polite, gentlemen. Without Sophia to play chaperone, we would not be able to enjoy ourselves three deep, as we so often and freely do. I feel we are blessed, not only in each other, but also with Sophia. She is a darling.”
The sound of breathing seemed too loud. Sophia fancied her heart was beating noisily, and if those otherwise occupied had not been so engrossed it would be heard through the partially open door. In silence, she moved backward. Blue would have to find her own way back.
As she carefully walked away she heard her niece’s breathless whisper.
“Now, fuck me now! Spill in me both of you, come now as I am....”
Both? And her niece? All together? Sophia felt the heat of arousal pool between her legs once more and cursed. It had been too long since she had received any ministrations other than her own hands, and she felt somewhat deprived. Why, when one reached the age of three and forty was it supposed you no longer had needs? Is it generally supposed ladies of the ton have no needs at any age?
Sophia moved quietly away from the door. Her soft shoes made no noise on the parquet, and the gentle swish of her skirts were so slight as to go unnoticed. She sighed in frustration. It seemed her lucky neice not only had needs, but was able to admit to them, and have them ministered to. By the sounds of it most satisfactorily. Not for anything could she let it be known what she had hears. However, as she had an overactive imagination - which was now running riot- and she could hazard a guess what scenes would have met her eyes. Her body tingled and she did the only thing possible. She left the dog to make her own way through the house, and returned to her room. Once there she used her imagination to aid her hands.
You will find Rose here...
https://www.facebook.com/rmcallan (my page)
https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallan (author page)