Well, here it is. This is officially the day that 'Tug of Love' makes it onto the bookshelves.
What does it feel like? A little weird, actually. Copies have been popping through letterboxes for over a week now and a trickle of (enthusiastic) reviews from friends and family have been making their way into my inbox which is amazing. The two things I am most proud of are a. that people find it hard to put down once they've started and b. it's funny. The last one is very, VERY important: all those scribbled notes in the first draft such as 'must think of joke about polar bears' have obviously paid off! (And yes, if you haven't read it, there is a line about polar bears in a book concerning love, lust and divorce litigation.)
As ever, though, it's not just one person who writes a book. Although in a strict, techinical sense I was the one who sat down and did the typing, I couldn't have done that without a huge raft of people offering everything to child care to a shoulder to cry on - you know who you are and I'm deeply grateful.
However, as I have one fledgling book hopping out of the nest, I'm also aware that book number 3 is now crying out for attention. I am currently half way through chapter three and trying to get to grips with a whole cast of new characters and their foibles. Like the fantastic Freya North, I too have a queue of heros and heroines lining up in my brain and getting restive about when it will be their turn to hit the page;and right now, it is the turn of the indomitable Katie Sharp and Dr Edward Forster. I think I can best describe this book as an unholy mixture of 'AS Byatt's 'Possession- meets-Scooby Doo-meets PG Wodehouse' - with the ghost of an aristocratic Eighteenth Century playboy poet thrown in for good measure (a sort of anti-Mr Darcy).
All good stuff - I hope.
But here's to 'Tug of Love' - God bless her and all who sail in - I mean, read - her.