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 IN PAPERBACK
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Well, hello wonderful person.  Might I say how fantastic you're looking today?  You've done something different with your hair, haven't you? Never mind what everyone else says, I like it.  Now, where were we?  Ah yes.  You've popped along here to find out more about me, and possibly in the hope of being offered a biscuit and a cup of tea, do sit down and take the weight off your hairstyle; don't mind the dog, he does that to everyone, and I shall tell you all there is to know.  Oh, except for that thing about the milkman, the cucumber and the packet of extra-large clootie dumplings - that was all a terrible mistake and we agreed never to mention it again.  So I won't.

So. When it eventually dawned on me that I was never going to be offered the position of the Face of L'Oreal (and now that I've seen the position in question I'm quite glad, let me tell you, my left leg was NEVER going to get round there), I took to writing.  And my latest novel Slightly Foxed is out in print from those insert superlative here  people at Samhain Publishing.  You might like to buy it, in which case just press here and the little wizards who live inside this computer will whisk you off to a place where that can happen.  But, aha, I know you, you'd like the chance to run your cheeky little eyes over some text before you commit yourself wouldn't you?  Very well, here's a small extract to moisten your clothing... I mean, appetite.  Yes, appetite.  That's what I meant.  Yes.

“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.’

There.  Have a HobNob, I expect you feel you deserve one now.  I'll put the kettle on.  And while I do that, you might feel that you'd like to press that little button now to buy the book, wouldn't you?  Press...the...button...  What do you mean, my eyes just went all funny?  That's my persuasive technique that is!  Derren Brown promised me it would work on anyone!  Bugger.  That's five quid and a sackful of haddock I won't see again in a hurry.   

And, as if this wasn't enough, my previous book Reversing Over Liberace (yes, I know it's an unusual title, you have to read the book to find out what it all means), is also available from Samhain and other totally reputable outlets.  There's a little button to facilitate purchase for that one too.  Go on, press it....press...it...

Reversing Over Liberace
A tale of life, love and unlikely legacies.

PAPERBACK AVAILABLE NOW!
BUY IT HERE.

 Here's what it's about:

Willow runs into Luke, the university lust-of-her-life, ten years on, and this time around he’s interested. Hardly surprising, she’s lost twenty pounds and found fashion. But their meeting turns out to be no accident. What is Luke really after, Willow or her new inheritance?

Then her gay best mate Cal reveals himself to be more than a mild, unassuming computer geek and she is no longer sure exactly who is telling the truth or who to trust. Luke has been her benchmark boyfriend for years – but he’s banking on marrying her, literally. Cal is gorgeous and… well… gay. But is anyone in her life what they seem to be?

Add to the confusion, twelve pairs of rubber boots, two elderly spaniels and a nose in a matchbox. That's the result of her late grandfather’s belief that people should get what they need, not what they think they want.

Can Willow be the exception that proves his rule? Will the desire for revenge be her downfall?

* * * * *

And, far be it from me to blow my own trumpet - one has a little man for that sort of thing, you know - some very nice people have taken the trouble to read both the above and to say some things about them, to save you the trouble.  Here they are:

SLIGHTLY FOXED REVIEWS

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."

* * * * *

REVERSING OVER LIBERACE REVIEWS

Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read - Five out of Five
'One of the funniest things I've read in ages!' - 'Smart and witty'
'This is a book I won't forget' Marlene, FAR

A 78 from Mrs Giggles!
'I enjoyed reading this story' - 'some funny one-liners'
'Jane Lovering has a lively voice'

4 Hearts! and Very Sensual Rating from The Romance Studio
'Very Bridget Jonesy and a lot of fun…
funny first person account of female growth and introspection.
Engaging Chick Lit and a really fun read.’ Lynne Bushey

* * * * *

INTERVIEWS


 
'The kind of man I tend towards is a bit skinny, a bit unshaven,
clever, funny and kind. And not a crag or bicep to boast of.'

Why not read the rest of my interview with Fallen Angels here?

Read my Interview with Michael Amos here.
'I was built in a small workshop in Devon. My creator, appalled at
what he had done, promptly tried to destroy me, but it was too late'

I blogged at Novelspot.net for a whole week!  The blog is mostly autobiographical (a tale of woe, therefore!) but includes some homespun advice on how not to write.  There's a link below for each day of splurging.  Enjoy.

Monday Blog | Come Gather Round...
Tuesday Blog | Writing. Secrets of how not to do it. And some ranting.
Wednesday Blog | Twenty years in the wilderness.
Thursday Blog | Capturing an idea and holding it to ransom
Friday Blog | Who says the ideal man has to be shaped like a parsnip
Saturday Blog | Two books down, only another million to go...
Sunday Blog | Forseeing the future. It's like the past but with more Eccles cakes.

* * * * *

Now, what else can I tell you?  I'm so enjoying our little chat, I'm reluctant to let you go.  I don't get out much, you see.  Well, ever, in fact.  And so few people come to visit and want to know about my books, all anyone ever seems to want to know about is that wretched business with the clootie dumplings and that, as I have said, is a closed matter. Well, until the court ruling, obviously.

So, what do you want to talk about?  If you desperately, desperately desire more information, you could always approach my agent, a very sweet and patient lady who NEVER asks about the clootie dumplings, and probably knows all the words to 'Mr Brightside'.  Her name is Kate Nash, and the wizards will take you to her, if you know how to ask.  I have several works in progress, apart from the annual body overhaul which always begins about now: a novel about an elvish incursion into our world; the first part in a series of vampire romances; the story of a woman who hies off to America to a Sci-Fi convention in an attempt to meet her hero and some ideas boiling about a group of women who decide to start their own coven.

Oh. must you go?  The kettle's just boiled, and I was going to open the chocolate digestives.  And look, the dog really seems to like you!  Ah well, if you must.  I shall leave you with a picture of me, so that you can remember this moment forever.  Please call again, and bring your friends.  Or anyone, really...

That's all the extracts we have for now.  Please do feel free to browse around my site, read some of my other stuff, find out more about me. And do remember to check out my Blog on MySpace, where I pontificate at great length about anything that comes into my head. Well, whenever they can drag me out of the Ferret and sober me up enough to talk. Sometimes they let me do it drunk, it’s far more entertaining, but you have to wipe the dribble off your screen before you can read anything.

Right, that’s just about enough from me, I’ll let you go and fondle your way around my site. Did I just say fondle? I meant… wander. Yes, wander, that was it. Wander round the site, poke fun at my pictures (I used a body double of course, although the naked buttocks are my own) and just generally make yourselves at home. I’ll be back in from the Ferret at about midnight, so don’t lock the door. Oh, and you might want to wear some ear-plugs, it’s Karaoke night tonight and I’ve got some practice to put in. Does anyone know the words to the Kaiser Chiefs ‘Angry Mob’? Or the tune? Oh hell, I’ll just wing it… Catch you later!

 lovely people have visited my page since 24th March '07.  Last updated 31st May '09