Margaret Mayo Romance Author

About my partial. The explosive beginning has exploded. Vanished into the ether. Gone for ever. As you will no doubt realise I’m having to make some changes. Why is it that whenever I feel really happy with what I’ve written my ed thinks otherwise? The answer is because I’m too close to my work to see its faults. Even though you’d think I’d be able to do that after writing all these years! I don’t understand myself sometimes.

However, I’ve started again today. And guess what? I’m happy with what I’ve written. Don’t laugh. Don’t say, here she goes again. Because when I’ve finished the book I shall go over everything with a fine toothcomb. I might miss a few things but I’ll give it my best shot. It’s promised for the end of January so I need to pull out all the stops.

Will someone cancel Christmas this year?

When the weather gets cold, when there are frost warnings – as we’ve had recently – we always pop a heater into our fish pool in case it freezes. (It doesn’t stop the whole surface from freezing but it keeps an area around the heater free from ice.) It consists of a round disc that floats and a covered element that hangs below it in the shape of a tube about six to eight inches long. It always amuses my DH and me when we see the fish huddling around it . They look like a group of children around a fire.

I read on Nicola Marsh’s blog recently about the waiting game. It’s a game I’m playing at the moment while waiting to hear from my editor about my partial. Penny found herself sharing Santo’s bed and is already regretting it and since they’re about to go on holiday to Santo’s home country of Italy, taking his five year old daughter with them, I wonder whether she’ll be able to resist him again? Or will the magic of Italy weave its spell?

While I’m waiting to hear from my ed I plan to do some Christmas shopping. I realised how quickly the festive season is coming when we visited Toys ‘R’ Us yesterday – with grandson in tow – and saw people with shopping trolleys piled high with toys. For their own kids? If so they’re very lucky. Or for friends and relatives offsprings? Who knows, but the shop was certainly doing a roaring trade.

Sunday is not a writing day for me, but as I was on my treadmill this morning (Yes, I do try to exercise. Sitting on my bum all day isn’t good for the joints!) thinking about a part of my book that I’m not happy with, I came up with a solution and jumped off to write it down. Three times I did this. And the thought occurred to me that I could do with a tape recorder or something similar, to record my thoughts when I’m pounding the treadmill. Perhaps I ought to put in on my Christmas wish list?

Actually the treadmill’s a bit of a contentious issue between me and my husband. He bought it me because he said I never got any exercise. I had used to go for walks but somehow it dropped off. Perhaps because it’s no fun on my own. So when it was new I duly used it every day. You should have seen me the first time. I thought I was going to fall off. And I still can’t do it without hanging on like grim death. My sense of balance is atrocious. Always has been. Even as a child I could never roller skate.

But the thing is I don’t do it every day now. If I’m not writing I insist that I’m getting exercise by doing whatever else I’m doing, housework, gardening, shopping, ironing. Surely they’re all forms of exercise? Come on, girls, stick up for me!

This is Santo. My gorgeous hero. He’s not always smiling. I have an amazing cutting from a newspaper where he’s looking straight at the camera and looks most stern and forbidding. Exactly the look I want for my hero. I’ve discovered thousands of photos of this man (no prizes for guessing who he is) with a whole range of different expressions. (Actually, if you live the other side of the world you may not know him. So I’ll tell you. It’s Jose Mourinho. Ex England football manager. A controversial character by all accounts. Not that I follow football.)

So what can I tell you about Santo? He’s a workaholic naturally. Runs a global advertising agency. Although he’s Italian he lives in England. He likes fast cars and race horses. He’s divorced with a five year old daughter. And if I tell you any more I’ll give the story away.

Oh, yes, he’s never short of a girlfriend. He enjoys playing the field, no strings attached. Until he meets Penny! And in Penny he’s certainly met his match.