Where the West Wind Blows

I love writing about glamorous, far flung places and peopling them with broad chested billionaires and sharp witted, feisty women but sometimes in a writer's life, a story appears from nowhere; a story that insists upon being written. It is as if someone has control of my mind and my fingers and there is nothing I can do but get it down on paper. The plot emerges as it wants to, in a great outpouring of emotion and that is how my novella, Where the West Wind Blows came to fruition. I woke one morning and there it was, fully formed, in my head.

There is not a muscle-bound billionaire or a luxury mansion in sight in this rather dark romance and the heavier themes may not be for all my readers. That is why the novella is not branded in my usual way. No black and red sexiness this time but something that lies rather nearer to my heart.

 Blissfully married to James, for twenty five years, successful artist, Fiona Japp, is devastated when he suffers a sudden heart attack. She is totally floored by his loss and teeters on the edge of nervous collapse. When her postman finds her in a pool of blood one morning, Fiona is admitted to hospital. And, on her release, still unable to face returning to the home she shared with James, she escapes to a holiday cottage on the Welsh coast where her anguish is diluted in the rain, blown by the winds and finally extinguished by a suffering even greater than her own.

Where the West Wind Blows is a story of loss, mental collapse and healing, proving that there really is life after sudden death.

Where the West Wind Blows will soon be published as an e-book. Look our for the free promotion.

A Mary Middleton Romance Book Giveaway

For the last two days the kindle version of my second romance novel, Vittorio's Virgin has been free on Amazon and the response from readers has been brilliant. So I am  celebrating by holding a BOOK GIVEAWAY.  Just leave a comment in the box below stating which title you would like to win and your contact details and your name will be entered into a draw. The lucky winner will receive a paperback copy of their preferred title.

Vittorio is a troubled man. Raised by an unfaithful mother, married and divorced from an unfaithful wife, he no longer regards women as anything other than trouble. 

He avoids them, preferring to shower his love onto his six-year-old daughter, Sophia, but Vittorio is determined that she will not grow up to be as brittle and shameless as the other women in his life. Consequently, his daughter has the strictest upbringing.

But as she leaves babyhood behind the pressure of business makes life as a single parent more difficult and Vittorio is forced to seek help. Reluctantly he advertises for a nanny and, after interviewing a string of unsatisfactory applicants, he eventually settles on a young woman fresh from England. 

But Miss Jennifer Trent and Vittorio have met once before and he hadnt failed to notice then that, as well as being out spoken and headstrong, she was also very, very pretty.  

Vittorio's Virgin traces the sweeping romance of Vittorio and Jennifer from the romantic terraces of Florence to the sun-drenched beaches of the Caribbean.

***

Jonathan Barberis-Jones believes he has the future sorted but his billionaire playboy lifestyle, complete with horses, fast cars and women is suddenly threatened by the arrival of Charlotte Martin, The Greek Tycoon's Secret Daughter. 

Penniless single parent, Charlotte Martin suddenly in need of the support of her natural father, turns up at Barberis Hall claiming to be Nicoli Barberis'  illegitimate daughter. Finding his future under threat, Jonathan is faced with a tough inner battle; to keep his inheritance intact or surrender to his ever-increasing attraction to Charlotte? 

Will Jonathan's darker side prevail in his fight for what he sees as justice? 

Or will love prevail?

The Greek Tycoon's Secret Daughter moves from the breathtaking beauty of the Yorkshire Dales, across the pond to New York before finally coming full circle to the Baroque splendour of Barberis Hall.

***

Come Dance With Me. When television chat show host, Sasha Johnson, interviews international ballroom dancing champion, Andrei Kovalevsky, her life is altered forever. And, six  years later, when they meet again Sasha does everything in her power to prevent him from blowing her world apart for the second time.

But can she defuse a bomb that is already ticking?

Andrei Kovalevsky has won almost every ballroom dancing prize known to man, apart from television's coveted Celebrity Dancing Trophy. When Andrei is partnered with Sasha, her two left feet threaten to kick the glittering prize way out of his reach.

With just eight weeks to do it, Andrei determines to break down the barriers between them, knock her into shape and turn Sasha Johnson into a dancer.

But secrets, lies and an irresistable attraction impede his way and their path to the Celebrity Dance final is fraught with trouble.

***

So is it to be the dark and handsome Vittorio with his deep hang-ups and sadness?  Jonathan's lazy, rich boy petulance and irresistible charm? or Andrei's Russian fire and capable arms?  Which ever one you fancy let me know and, if your name is picked in the draw, one of them will soon be winging it's way to you.

Good Luck!

Your invitation ...

Kidwelly Castle - Carmarthenshire

I cannot believe my last post was in March when I was heralding in the Spring! What on earth have I been doing?  Not lazing around that is for sure. We had a family bereavement that interrupted my flow a little and since then I have had  my head down, researching and writing my forthcoming release. I think I hinted sometime ago that the next one might be a little different. Well, it's certainly that but I am not here to talk about that today.

Castell Henllys - iron age village - Pembrokeshire

I was thinking that here in the UK the spring began fine and dry. In the southeast there were panics about drought, hose pipe bans, possible crop failure ...it all sounded a little unlikely to me because I live in Wales where the rain, when it falls, which is often, comes in bucketloads.  There were no dusty dry fields around here, although the rain fall had been considerably less than usual.  We like mud in Wales and we like clouds - or maybe we have just got used to them, either way, we have them.

Tresaith Beach - Ceredigion

So when the 'drought' ended, it really didn't seem fair that we were washed out too. The Welsh water table was high enough and we saw no cause for celebration. Bring on a dry summer, we said, we need the tourists to come. But, since the end of May, there has been nothing but rain, sheets of it, lakes of it, oceans of it. Couldn't there be a happy medium? Even in the southeast, that dustbowl we were hearing about in April, the people are now begging the rain to stop.  everyone is a little fed up with it.

Here in Wales, the country fairs are being cancelled, sporting events washed out, tourists cancelling reservations at B&B's and Guesthouses. It doesn't look good. At least if we had a sunny drought the holiday makers would visit in their droves, stuff themselves with strawberries and ice-creams and Welsh cakes and give rural Wales the boost it needs.

Historic Newquay Harbour - Ceredigion

It is so lovely here, even when it's raining. I often write about Wales. My first novel For One Night Only features an exiled Welshman and his return  to the soft, green valleys of his homeland. You know, that is why Tom Jones sings, The Green Green Grass of Home, with such conviction. It really is true, there's no place like home and I count my blessings that I live here.

Newport Bay - Pembrokeshire

So, if you are planning on having a Staycation this year or if any of my readers from the USA are visiting the UK, please don't forget about Wales. It's the bit stuck on the side, the place Americans often refer to as "Wales, England". Because there is nowhere nicer. And your visit needn't be all about the Olympics, we have other buildings besides the Millenium Stadium. We have castles, cathedrals and ancient churches to inspire you, countryside that will knock your socks off, mountains, moorland, wildlife, and an awesome natural coastline that you can walk from end to end if  you care to.  We have World famous male voice choirs, harpists, there is a song on every tongue in Wales.

Pentre Ifan - Pembrokeshire

Since this is supposed to be a writing blog, I should mention we have wonderful writers and artists too. Galleries, theatres, open air exhibitions, award winning restruants. You can visit Hay on Wye, the bookshop capital of the world, or at Laugharne where you can see Dylan Thomas' home, see his writing den and follow the Dylan Thomas trail throughout Wales. Note: not surprisingly, this trail includes rather a lot of pubs. 

This country is teeming with poets, writers and visual artists, so why not come and see us. the sun will come out soon and, even if it doesn't, You will still find a welcome in our hillsides. But bring your wellies, just in case.

Croeso!

Spring is in the Air

Most of my writing is done during the long, cold, wet winter when I can only rely upon memories of springtimes past to infuse a little warmth onto my page. There are, of course, those lovely firelit romantic interludes but I prefer the sun lit alfresco ones.

Spring is traditionally the time of love. When the birds indulge in a cliche of  twittering as they build nests and squabble over the mates. The daffodils nod in the light breeze and the sunshine beams down, thawing the winter chill, urging me to remove my thermals and show off some skin.
There is something about the time of year that makes me want to wander along leafy lanes, hand in hand with the one I love, talking of nothing, laughing at silliness. But where is the time for that?

Modern life, for all its labour saving devices and speedy methods of transport, seems to be very short on quality time. Too much to do, too many places to visit, too much money to be made, deadlines to be met, leaving, 'no time to stand and stare.'
Sometimes, I feel really stretched and just want to  lay it all down, laze all day in the garden with a good book (somebody else's not mine) and let the day pass slowly and uneventfully.  This rarely happens now. I gave all that up when I decided to write full time.

When the children were small and I was a stay at home mum, there was bags of time. Time for playing, time for reading to them, time for showing them small, wonderful things. I had no computer then and my stories were scribbled onto notepads to be laboriously typed up at some hazy time in the future. No pressure, no worries, just fun and lots of runny noses to wipe.

I suppose it's just a case of the past being rosier and I am happy to be a novelist. After all it's what I always dreamed of, sitting at a lovely desk, tapping out fabulous novels, earning a crust and a reputation as a writer. But, now I have all that, how I would love to take a month off, to enjoy the garden without feeling I should be at my desk; to set out a picnic lunch under the trees in the garden, fill a pool with water and listen to their happy voices while I slumber in the sun. The children are all grown up now and I, somehow, have become middle aged and the future that I always looked forward to is here, making me look wistfully backward.

But I live my past in my stories, not in the wildly passionate romances, there weren't too many of those, just a few that counted ... and mattered. But, every instance of my life, my  thoughts, feelings, memories; they all show up from time to time and colour my work just as surely as they colour my future.

Have a good spring season everyone.

Time To Put My Feet Up? I Should Cocoa!

Come, Dance With Me - Mary Middleton Available now
You might be forgiven for thinking that, having finally published Come, Dance With Me to Kindle yesterday (already copies going very well) I should now be able to enjoy a bit of relaxation, a bit of ME time but you'd be wrong. Creating a novel, crafting it as finely as you can, that's the easy bit. The most difficult bit of all is the marketing.
Many authors, like me, live solitary lives and are very shy. I often wonder if I chose to be a writer because I feel safer and more comfortable with long lonely hours than dealing with the hubbub and chaos of business. As a self employed author I call the shots, decide when its coffee time or if I deserve a day off. The decisions are mine, the nitty gritty of plot detail and book covers, mine alone and that suits me. The only time I wish I wasn't so alone is when it's time to wave the flag and blow the trumpet when, what I'd really like to do is hide beneath the desk.
When marketing your novel you tread a fine line. If you sit quietly and whisper 'I've written this nice little story and I think you might quite like it,' then you will have zero sales but, on the other hand, if you stand on the desk and blow a trumpet shouting about your fabulous novel that knocks the spots off everything else out there, you will alienate people and also get yourself zero sales.  So, if you can't leave it to luck and you can't spam the pants off everybody, what can you do?
I don't pretend to have the answers, I know about writing not about selling but I can tell you how I go about it and only hope that my methods aren't too irritating. The internet is a Godsend to authors, we can sit at home and blog and advertise about our work, join writers websites, flood Facebook with awareness, follow other people's blogs, go on blog tours, etc. etc. etc. And while we do all this we hope against hope that a few people will notice, buy our books and tell their friends about it.
I promote a lot of authors on my Facebook page and anything I post is transferred to Twitter and I like to think that they do likewise for me. You scratch my back, I will scratch yours.  I think it is a good way of doing things.  You are less likely to upset people if you are not banging on about your own stuff all the time and, fingers crossed, if sales are anything to go by, it is beginning to work.
That is why, instead of having a day at the shops or lunch with friends I will instead be on here blogging and raising awareness in the nicest way possible - through friendship.  So, should you find me a little in your face over the next few days, please don't think me mercenary or self-obsessed. I am just a writer, trying to find my path through the madness that is out there.
Have a nice day :)

Love is not just for St. Valentine's Day.

No romance author worth her salt would miss posting a blog on St. Valentine's Day so here I am, blogging on February 14th, 2012 about love and what it means to me.

 When I was a giddy young thing I believed there was nothing worse than a Valentine's Day devoid of cards and flowers - my (then) partner never dared to overlook such an important day or the resulting row would be horrible. So, for many years I had the red satin hearts and the flowers, not always roses for they are hard on a fella's wallet. But the gifts always seemed to lack something, perhpas I was ungrateful but I have come to realise that the thing they lacked was the sentiment.
It's easy to give flowers once a year and let that be the limit of romantic expression. I understand now that I was with the wrong man.

Now I am older, (some would say wiser but they'd probably be wrong) the cards don't matter so much and neither do the gifts. The thing that is important these days is the affection that is given daily. For almost twenty years he has been bringing me coffee in bed every morning and working extra hard, allowing me to write full time (despite never making enough money at it.)  I don't need roses or fancy cards one day a year because at least once a week, he comes home with something small thing he has seen and thought I might like. It might just be a piece of art deco china or a pretty vase to most people but, to me, it's special  because it comes from him. We don't dine out very often because it is nicer here with just the two of us.

As long as he continues to come home, kiss me on the cheek and ask how my day has been, I will be happy because it's the moment I have waited for all day.  So, if your partner forgot your card and left the hyped-up tacky gifts on the supermarket shelf, don't worry; as long as he comes home with a smile and a pleased-to-see-you kiss, you shouldn't really need anything more.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

Romance Or Not? Mary Middleton discussing the lack of distinction between love stories and sexual adventures.

Is it just me or does anyone else think that the romance genre could do with a bit of a shake up?  It used to be safe to pick up something with a ‘Romance’ tag because the reader knew she could expect a love story with maybe some rather steamy bedroom scenes thrown in. That was fine. But recently it has become more and more easy to inadvertently select things that are more akin to ‘pornography’ than ‘romance’.

I picked up a book the other day with a three star heat rating, which to my calculation in a one to five star scale, should categorise it as ‘mild to warm’. It should not have much in it to shock a woman of my age, but from page one it was rough, hard and fast sex, with a total stranger, in fact as I read on, his best pal joined in too. Very good friends, obviously. 

I stuck with it for a while hoping it would get better but when I discovered very little plot or character development or point to it really, I put it down again. The book had several good reviews, no explicit content warning or anything to suggest it wasn’t a run of the mill romance.  With the covers of softer romances becoming steamier and the content of the harder romances (I use the term loosely) becoming more imaginative, the margins are now becoming so blurred that the reader doesn’t know what to expect.

Often, when I tell people I write ‘romance’ they assume a suggestive expression, look at me sideways, ‘Oh, yes?’ they say, imagining me bashing away at my keyboard turning out a literary equivalent to Debbie Does Dallas. That isn’t the image I particularly want to cultivate and I am sure that goes for alot of other romance writers.

Now I guess you are all thinking, 'That Mary Middleton is a bit of a prude,' but that honestly isn’t the case. I just like to know roughly what is in store when I open a book and I would guess I am not alone. It’s rather like opening ‘Hello’ magazine and finding it filled with hard porn photos.

To me the difference between the two is that ‘Romance’ makes you smile softly and the stuff at the opposite end of the spectrum is more likely to make you wince.  There is the ‘heat’ rating, I suppose but I’m not sure it is working as well as it once did. I sense a shift in people’s expectations and sensibilities and what was once considered ‘saucy’ now seems to be categorised as ‘sweet’ and what once was considered ‘hot’ has now become ‘mild.’  My ex mother in law loves the old fashioned, pastel covered romances and I wonder how long it is before she picks up something new and is shocked to the marrow by it. I think publishers need to make things a little bit clearer and remember that old ladies like to read love stories too.

I suppose it’s all subjective but it seems quite clear to me that the romance tag should encompass love, and sex if you like, within a loving relationship. Sexy stories outside of that setting, especially if it is kinky or violent or involving many partners, should be categorised as something else, just so the reader knows. I am not calling for a ban or anything like that and I realise that many people enjoy the hotter end of the scale, I am just calling for a clearer distinction to be made between the two. I am sure when a fan of five star heat rated accidently selects a three star they are as equally disappointed at the content.

My own romances have plenty of sex in them but since I am consiously writing about everlasting, wonderful, unbeatable LOVE in capital letters, you can pick up one of my novels safe in the knowledge that  it will not be centered on sex for sex's sake but on the precious gift of  lasting love.

Coming  Soon to  Amazon Kindle