Margaret Mayo Romance Author

We’re about to have a lively weekend. Grandson number one is visiting. At the age of thirteen he is already taller than me (and I am five feet six). He has a wicked sense of humour, taking after his grandfather! And I know that between them I’m going to be terribly tormented.
Unless, of course, it’s meal times, or inbetween times. When his stomach is craving food. Then he butters up to me. He’s a real pleasure and we’re both looking forward to taking him on holiday later in the year.

Last weekend grandson number two visited. He’s thirteen as well – but only thirteen months and he so entertaining. Hasn’t time flown? It seems like only yesterday that I posted a photo of him when he was only one day old.

Happy weekend everyone.

I’ve had three days of good writing, no, correction, three good days of writing. Who knows whether it’s good or not at these initial stages? I’ve written two thousand words each day, and now I’ve come to a full stop. Is it because the weather’s changed and it’s miserable outside? Does sunshine help? Is it because Adam & Sienna are getting too close together too quickly? Or is it because I need more careful plotting? Or is it even because we went out for a meal last night with friends and I drank more wine than was good for me? The creative juices certainly aren’t flowing this morning.

Last weekend I sat down with a pencil and paper and worked out where I was going next. I’ve now reached the end of that and need to get my thinking cap on again. So perhaps it’s back to pencil and paper?

I’ve been reading with interest Kate Walker’s series of blogs on Alpha heroes. I have just such a hero in Adam. He can be irritating and he can be kind. He can be arrogant and he can be romantic. He’s also something of an enigma. There are things Sienna never knew about him even though they were married for a few years before they split up. It is only now that he is back in her life that she is finding out exactly what makes this man tick.

DH has gone out so that I can get on with my writing but as usual I’m procrastinating. Why is it that when he’s at home I work harder? Is it because when he’s out I can get on with all those little jobs that are hard to do when your man is around the place?