This is my book!  I wrote it myself and everything...

Slightly Foxed
They say you'll know when you're in love.  What if you don't?

AVAILABLE FOR DOWNLOAD
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You might remember I was telling you about 'Slightly Foxed'?  Yes, you do.  I was saying that I was brushing it up for resubmission, but that my hours of karaoke practice were interfering with my efforts.  Well, I'm pleased to announce that my efforts have paid off!  Yes, I can now do a perfect rendition of 'I will Survive'!  With gestures, and everything!  Oh, and Slightly Foxed has been accepted for publication with Samhain as well, which is probably better, but not quite as personally exciting as 'Go on now, GO!  WALK OUT THE DOOR!  DON'T TURN AROUND NOW, COS YOU'RE NOT WELCOME ANY MORE!' There.  Did you enjoy the gestures?  I particularly like that one I do with my wrist and the two fingers and the sausage.

Well.  Slightly Foxed (or Slightly Effed, as I am pleased to call it) has now been released upon the general public.  I know all you darlings will rush to Samhain in order to purchase your downloads.

No, really, you will.  Otherwise I shall sneak into your offices at night and fill your rubbish bins with eggs.  And just think of the excuses you're going to have to come up with to talk your way out of that.

So, best all round if you just buy the book, eh?

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I'd now like to stop gnashing my teeth for a second and say a great big hello to all County Council staff in North Yorkshire, for I am one of thy brethren.  If you're here because you saw me on this month's CountyTalk then may I apologise for any broken glass or psychological trauma caused by my picture.  Reversing Over Liberace is the book mentioned - that's it down there!  If you'd like a signed copy, e-mail me!  Otherwise, you can buy it just about everywhere.

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SLIGHTLY FOXED REVIEWS

A Grade B from JAYNE at DEAR AUTHOR
  
"[A] plus for me is [Alys]... it's nice to read about a heroine of [36] who's still attracting attention from men... I like that she faces some harsh truths about herself and goes into the final relationship with open eyes."

"I love Grainger, the grouchy curmudgeon in fur, and Casper the kitten stand-in for tissues... The humor had me in stitches... [and] I delighted in the sharp descriptions."

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REVERSING OVER LIBERACE REVIEWS

Anyway, you wanted to know more about my first book, Reversing Over Liberace, didn't you? The answer is yes, what do you mean you have to go, the Vicar's on fire?

Firstly, it's my book!  I wrote it myself and everything, and only needed a little bit of help with steadying the pen and things, you know how it goes when you’ve had a few too many down the ‘Floppy Ferret’ of a Friday night. Anyway. It’s available from Samhain Publishing, go and buy it immediately.

Now, what else can I tell you? I’ve got lots more stuff in the pipeline; if you’re good I’ll let you have a little peek at some of my upcoming things. For starters there’s my current Work In Progress, a juicy little number I’m pleased to entitle ‘Beethoven Complex’.

Here’s a short extract from the beginning of the book.

‘It started with the unexploded horse.

The creature lay superimposed over Rosie’s attempts at an herbacious border with its hooves in the spyrea and its suspiciously swollen abdomen flattening the tiny square of lawn. Its grey-filmed eyes stared skywards and the lips gaped, revealing teeth like a defunct keyboard.

“Jason!”

As I opened the window to yell, Rosie came into the room pushing her hands through her black chicane of curls and yawning blearily, milkstains already painting the front of her dressing gown.

“Morning, Jem.”

“Oh, hi. Good night? JASON!”

I’d seen him now, hoving into view with his chainsaw in one hand and the gleam of enterprise fresh in his eye; Jason, you see, is an Artiste.

“Jason!”

“Yo, babe?” From his position astride the luckless horse, Jason raised his safety visor and gazed up at me, chainsaw still spinning. I could hear bits of bone pinging off the washing line and tried not to retch.

“Could you not… I don’t know… do that somewhere else? Or some other time?” Like the next Ice Age?

“Love to oblige you, babe, sorry, can’t. Gotta get this sorted before the flies start, y’see. ‘Nother half hour in this heat and it’s gonna be maggot-central.”

“But you’ll wake Harry!”

This made him pause. Jason, for all his faults – and they were too many and varied to list here – doted on Rosie’s six-week-old son. But after a moment he shrugged and went to lower the visor on his helmet again. “Nah, sorry babe. I’ve got two Dutchmen coming and I’ve got to have this plasticised before they arrive. Catch ya later!”.

I pulled my head in from the window and turned to Rosie. “Sounds like he’s having a touch of temperament at the moment.”

At that moment the horse exploded.

Now, I don’t know about you and, deity of your choice willing, you’ve never had to deal with so much as a detonating Doberman, but it always seems to me to be moments like this that someone chooses to arrive at the front door; fragrant in Calvin Klein, wearing slingback Manolos and something slung casually over the shoulders. In this case, the visitor was Saskia and she was indeed fragrantly perfumed and wearing expensive shoes, but with a tiny jolt of glee I realised that what she had slung over her shoulders was shreds of horse-skin. Which she hadn’t yet noticed.

“Ah, Jemima. Good morning.” Saskia tippy-toed over my doorstep, instantly making the low-ceilinged living room look like a hovel. “There really is the most disgusting smell around here. Ah, hello Rose. Still in your dressing gown? I know you’ve just had a baby, darling, but really… Even when Oscar was tiny I made sure I was up and dressed in time to say goodbye to Alex as he left for work. It doesn’t do to let one’s self go, you know. But then of course you don’t have a man, do you?”

Beethoven Complex
‘Men – you think they’re listening, but are they hearing you?’

* * * * * *

And now for a short extract from Slightly Foxed.

“Definitely a stroke.” The vet gave the recumbent Grainger another last look through his bifocals. “At his age it would probably be best if we…”

I clenched Grainger against my chest so hard that he gave a little gasp. “No.”

“Ms Hunter.” Wearily the vet pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “Recovery from a collapse of this kind would be such a long, slow process it might be kinder…”

“She said no.” Piers put both hands on the examination table and leaned forward. The vet leaned back. I felt sorry for him, he looked as though he hadn’t slept in days and his white coat was three sizes too large; probably the last thing he needed right now was an annoyed American looming at him. “Give the cat a shot, whatever, and we’ll take him home.”

I dropped my head again and some more tears damped Grainger’s fur. My nose was running and all I had to wipe it on, apart from Grainger himself, was my arm. I sniffed instead.

“Look. If you insist on my treating this cat, then he’ll need to be admitted. Possibly only for a day or two until he starts to respond, if he does. But in view of the cost, I really would advise…”

Piers ignored the vet and turned to me. He crouched down in front of where I sat in one of those slightly-too-small plastic chairs that vet’s surgeries always have holding Grainger between my chest and bare knees. “He’ll be okay here, Alys. They’ll look after him. You want that? Yeah?”

“B…but the cost…”

Piers ignored me. “Keep him here then. Do everything you can for him.” He gave the poor vet another glare. “And I mean everything. I get any whisper that you gave up on this cat and I’ll have your badge.”

As we walked back to the car, Grainger-less, I gave a snorty, snot-filled kind of laugh. “I don’t think vets have badges, Piers.”

Another manic, Piers-grin. “I know that. But, it’s like with animals, it’s all in the tone of voice. He knew I meant what I said, what I really said doesn’t matter. Would you rather I said I’d have his balls?” He flipped open the door of the Porsche and I tried to get in without flashing him my knickers.

“No, it’s just that – it’s going to be expensive. Are you sure we shouldn’t have, well, you know. Made the final decision?”

“You want that? Grainger sent on his way? You just say the word, Ally, I’ll go back in there and –“

“No!”

“Right. So, shut up about the money, yeah?”

I took a deep breath. “I’ll pay you back. Honestly, I will. I don’t know how, yet, but –”

Piers looked down at my bare legs and did the grin again. “I’ll think of something.”

This time I laughed properly and slapped him on the shoulder. “You are such a tart!”

“Yeah? I’m not the one in a micro-mini and stilettoes, babe.”

“Maybe, but you chose this outfit!”

His smile died a little. “Glad I did, too. You look great, did I say that already? Come on, the big G’s in good hands here, let’s go find us a PARTY!” He dropped the clutch on the little yellow car and it jumped forward with a lurch I could feel from my heart down to my stomach.’

Slightly Foxed
'They say you'll know when you're in love.  What if you don't?'

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Here's the extract from Reversing Over Liberace I promised you.