Greetings from Scotland!

I hope you’re okay during these trying times. Even some of the most relaxed people are finding it hard to stay calm. Therefore, I’ve made my Kick Anxiety eBook free until Tuesday 31st March at 11.59 pm PDT.

Also, I recently released a novelette, I Can’t Go Back to Maplethorpe.  At the moment, it’s just 99p or equivalent. It’s a rom-com set in the 1970s and has a little story behind it...

In the sixth form, my hubby’s mate, Dave announced, ‘A gorgeous girl has moved in with me.’

‘But you live with your parents,’ said my hubby.

‘I know. But Mum and Dad feel sorry for her.’

‘Why?’

Dave had met a pretty girl in a disco and invited her to tea the next day. After swallowing a bite of Victoria sponge,’ she burst into tears and said, ‘I can’t go back to Mablethorpe.’

Turned out the girl hated life in her seaside town and had spent all her spare money on a few nights in London. And whenever someone suggested she should return home, she’d cry and reiterate, ‘I can’t go back to Mablethorpe.’

‘So, what happened to her?’ I asked my hubby a few years ago after he told me the story.

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

I know – frustrating.

So, I changed Mablethorpe (a real place on the east coast of England) to Maplethorpe (a faux seaside resort on the east coast and tapped away on the keyboard as  I Can’t Go Back to Maplethorpe appeared.

That’s it for now, folks. 

Stay happy and healthy, and I’ll see you soon.

Janet xx

A sunless balcony in the South of France,

1920

Dearest Rosemary,

It was a limpid dreary day, hung as in a basket from a single dull star. I thank you for your letter. Outside, I perceive what may be a collection of fallen leaves tussling against a trash can. It rings like jazz to my ears. The streets are that empty. It seems as though the bulk of the city has retreated to their quarters, rightfully so. At this time, it seems very poignant to avoid all public spaces. Even the bars, as I told Hemingway, but to that, he punched me in the stomach, to which I asked if he had washed his hands. He hadn’t. He is much the denier, that one. Why, he considers the virus to be just influenza. I’m curious of his sources.

The officials have alerted us to ensure we have a month’s worth of necessities. Zelda and I have stocked up on red wine, whiskey, rum, vermouth, absinthe, white wine, sherry, gin, and lord, if we need it, brandy. Please pray for us. You should see the square, oh, it is terrible. I weep for the damned eventualities this future brings. The long afternoons rolling forward slowly on the ever-slick bottomless highball. Z. says it’s no excuse to drink, but I just can’t seem to steady my hand.

In the distance, from my brooding perch, the shoreline is cloaked in a dull haze where I can discern an unremitting penance that has been heading this way for a long, long while. And yet, amongst the cracked cloudline of an evening’s cast, I focus on a single strain of light, calling me forth to believe in a better morrow.

Faithfully yours,

F Scott Fitzgerald

 It's Friday. Hurrah!

Good news. I have a freebie and an introductory-price new release for you.

Until Tuesday (March 10, 2020, 11:59 PM PDT) Over the Sea to Die is free on Amazon. It’s the third novel in the fun, zany Izzie Firecracker series and is mainly set on the fictional Isle of Scree.  I spent ten years on Scotland’s Isle of Skye so much was inspired by real events, albeit tongue-in-cheek and satirical...

Beautiful Coco, who oft wails on a cold and windswept beach, Bible in hand, is based on a woman who moved to Skye expecting paradise. However, it was too remote for her city soul, and she had a nervous breakdown. All ended well. Does it end well in the book? Please read it for free and see!

Skye is rarely ‘remote’ these days, and if you’re planning a visit, go out of season lest you wish to be stuck behind a long line of camper vans.  May and June are usually the best and sunniest weather of the year. I often wore t-shirts and cardigans in May, raincoats and sweaters in August! 

What else?  Oh, yes, my latest release is Awful Wedded Husbands, a  romcom with hints of mystery and magic -- set in the 1970s -- my teenage years.  I look back fondly to when I ate masses but was as skinny as a string bean. If only. 

The intro price for Awful Wedded Husbands is just 99p. 

 NB. The first half of Awful Wedded Husbands was initially published as Nice Girls Don’t Sleep Naked.  

Keep happy.

Janet xx