Another instalment in the saga…

Two years ago when I was pondering whether or not to self-publish my first book, I had no idea how my work would be received. No idea. When people texted/emailed me to say they couldn’t put it down and were in love with the characters, I just didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. To me, writing was just something I enjoyed and that others enjoyed it was such a bonus. I didn’t know it would lead me on to write a book like A Fine Profession, nor A Fine Pursuit or Angel Avenue, which have been so well received since then. And the journey continues, the development is ongoing…

Today THE INFORMANT went live on Amazon. I am not going mad promoting it yet. I will do however when Volume 4 comes out. Then I will go mad. The reversions of what was the Ravage Trilogy, to me, signal the end of this stage of my creative development and the beginning of something new. It was only today I went to give a talk on self-publishing and had a potential pack of ten or more writers ready to put their work in my hands to edit and publish. I owe a lot to that first novel. I wouldn’t be here now without it.

Anyway, what I can tell you (without spoiling the plot) is that when I was writing these sci-fi novels, I was a new mum. Many of you know that. I was writing for the first time and it is only natural that a lot of my new concerns in life came to the fore in those novels. Also, a lot of people that came and went in my life, and those still with me, manifested in some respects in those early works that were more me than I think anything else ever will be.

It is sci-fi. Yet it has such a romantic edge. These are just stories that can take you away from this place. One major theme in the UNITY series is motherhood. I guess that will always stand prominent in any work of mine. You see my own mother was fostered when she was four and didn’t have it easy. My husband’s mum lost her mother when she was eight. That wasn’t the beginning of it for either of our mums. Both my mum and Andy’s mum strived so hard to give us what they never had. When I had a child too, so much hit me. I am sure so many other mums here and elsewhere can relate to that. UNITY is not only about a virus attack – it is about friendships, lovers, connections, relationships… it’s about alcoholism, abuse and how our imbedded personalities define us – all against this mad background of threat and suspicion, fear and longing. Dive in. I dare you!

Click covers to buy or visit to find out more!!!

the radicalthe informant

Prologue – THE INFORMANT!!!!

the informantOUT THIS WEEK!!

This is the sequel to THE RADICAL and promises to be explosive, action-packed, full of romance, intrigue and surprises galore!



January 2064

Mine was a life unlike all the others’. How bold a statement, you may say. Yet quite true. The rest thrived off reputation and hearsay whereas me, Camille Honoré, needed no reputation to prove how much of a threat to Officium I was. Nothing they had thrown at me had killed me. They had tried numerous times. I had kept my head down yet they knew of my conquests. My name was still synonymous with threat.

I sat in a bedroom in Paris, with these thoughts all swirling around my head. I looked out over the expansive rear gardens of Seraph’s new purchase: a house. The place needed a great deal of work and the gardens were more junkyard than recreational space, but I could see she believed in a possible transformation. I’d complain about the seals, the safety locks, the roof and she would smile and return, ‘It has potential.’

I loved her enthusiasm. Even after all that had transpired, she saw something good in everything. I knew it was because she had been to rock bottom and come back again that she didn’t take anything for granted. I had learnt that same lesson myself.

The strain of the past few months had driven me to the odd cigarette and I puffed on one out of the window so she wouldn’t see my vulnerability. Me, yes, me Camille Honoré, who was meant to be beyond all these earthly pleasures. Yet the past nine months had nearly killed me. Why? I could admit the reasons but only to myself. It knew it would take more than retrospect and reflection before I would be able to digest it with anyone else.

Seraph and her “condition” put a spanner in the works, let’s say. A touch of nausea on a certain Dakota apartment balcony was the whole damn reason why nine months had nearly killed me…

I was digressing. Getting sloppy. Allowing emotions to get the better of me. How crass. I forgot Camille Honoré does not admit she has the potential to die, when in fact she has more than the potential. I was just as fallible as the rest, if not more, though I was better at hiding it.

We thought Ryken had successfully paved the way for a resurgence. When in actual fact, no.

“Fuck him,” I whined to myself.

I blamed Eve for teaching me swear words. I blamed her for a lot of things actually. She had passed on and left me with a shit load of problems to mop up, sweep away, tuck under the carpet… (insert other archaisms here).

I was dealing with a mountain of logistical nightmares in fact and no amount of swearing would make me feel any better. Nothing was going to sway me from my feeling that the proverbial was going to hit the fan before long.

He damn well forgot to wear a prophylactic. Nothing but mayhem would ensue because of that one, silly, neglectful action.

I finished the cigarette and took out a mint, spraying myself with scented water too. Perfume would have her licking my face with the heightened sense of smell she had.

A ding from my xGen arrested me and I inwardly recoiled. What now? I told them all to leave me alone. I am not in the mood.

I had retired myself, I suppose, to a certain extent. I had left my no.1 in charge at the shop and had come to Paris with Seraph in a bid to start fresh, breathe away the cobwebs and reconnect with who I used to be. That thought made me chuckle inwardly: who I used to be

I recalled a little French girl, treated like a princess by her parents, strolling the streets with her mamma, seeking shoes from stalls that would inscribe your name inside and make it all the more magical to have something that was entirely your own. How fantastical. How whimsical. How nothing of that little girl remained in the powerful machine that had replaced her.

I picked up my xGen and saw a message. I saw the sender and heat flooded my body. Heat rose in my cheeks. She still had that affect on me. It read, ‘Got time for a chat? Only a quick one.’

Sure,’ I replied, unable to help myself.

She called within a minute and I froze when I saw her. She was all blackness and I loved it. The darkness within her contrasted with the lightness in me. Though what she knew, and only she, was that my depths ran darker and deeper than most others’ – and in that respect we were a perfect fit.

‘How are you?’ she asked with concern.

‘Shit,’ I replied. I never swore. She knew that meant it was bad.

‘He is on his way?’ she asked tentatively.

‘Yes, he is,’ I mumbled.

‘Do you want me to come over?’

‘No,’ I told her, my lips pursed.

‘I don’t like the way you look,’ she argued.

‘How should I look? Pleased?’

I was more miffed than I had ever been.

There was a very valid reason for Ryken’s disappearance off the face of the planet and now I feared all this sacrifice, all this struggle, would be for nothing.

‘You can tell me what is going on in that head of yours. If it will help to unburden you, you may as well.’

I sniffed. I shook my head and rambled quickly in French, quicker than even she could understand. I went into my roughest dialect, my street tongue, and she gawped as I reeled off a lot of jargon.

‘Don’t be such a child and just tell me,’ she chastised.

‘Huh,’ I harrumphed, sitting down on my bed with her on my lap. I had to think of Seraph and her talk of piles earlier… anything to take my mind off the beauty of the woman opposite me.

I cogitated and twisted my mouth before admitting, ‘You haven’t been here when she cries in the night. You haven’t seen her…’ I paused, my mouth twisting uncomfortably while I tried to combat my emotions, ‘…talking like she is happy when she isn’t, not really. She is only pretending… when really she is so sad, she can barely get out of bed in the morning.’

‘Camille, you always knew it would be this way.’

‘Oh, yes, yes,’ I laughed in a trite manner, ‘oh that’s right. Camille follows orders, that is what she does.’

‘This is not you speaking, who is this creature?’ she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

‘I am so tired of this,’ I moaned.

‘You cannot let emotion get the better of you. Not when we have a traitor amongst us.’

‘Ha, a traitor! That is a laugh, is it not? We are all traitors to ourselves. We are human and still we convince ourselves we have no feelings… just to get the job done.’

‘If you don’t bloody tell me what is wrong, right this instant, I am going to come over there to knock some damn sense into you!’

‘That traitor as you term them… that thing who proclaims to be a person, well… my spies tell me things I don’t like to hear. Things that mean this whole sham could have been for nothing! Nothing!’

‘I am coming,’ she warned.

‘No. I don’t need you adding to my problems as well. I already have too many people on the watch list, thank you very much.’

‘A few more days, Camille,’ she comforted me, ‘and Seraph will not be so vulnerable. Just a few more days.’

A few more days, a few more months, a few more years… they had piled up and robbed my life, those “calculations of time” that meant shit. This fight felt like it would never be over.

I wanted to tell my counterpart that she had no idea of the real legacy the Operator had left behind. Secrets nobody but me knew. Some so terrible… some days I had to break skin on the punch bag to rid myself of the guilt I sometimes felt. Me, Camille Honoré, breaking skin. Oh Jesus. Who was I kidding? I was just a woman too. No plan, no motive. Just a woman.

‘I will come if you want me to,’ she added. Oh I bet you would

Non, I don’t want you here,’ I insisted in a harsh voice.

‘Well, chin up. You never know, you might get to kick some more ass before long.’

I looked into her eyes and couldn’t help but crack a wry grin. That had me perked up. She was never easily offended, never gave up on me. She knew just how to appeal to my sense of humor.

‘She’s back, there she is, Camille is in the room again,’ she beamed.

I heard the door to Seraph’s room open after her nap and nodded towards Mara, whispering, ‘Got to go.’

She mouthed, ‘Okay.’

We ended the call and I heard Seraph yell from the corridor, ‘My back’s fuckin’ killin’!’

I chuckled inwardly. Seraph didn’t know how alike she and Eve had been. I had to hope she would never know the extent of the truth in that.

The Radical revealed her place in this tale, now I will unveil mine. Maybe I was the Principal first and foremost, in the eyes of the world. But there is/was so much more to me, too.

I was the Operator’s right-hand woman and you have yet to discover the extent of our former leader’s skills… prepare to be driven deeper into the murky abyss.

Unity Novels Progress…

VOLUME ONE OUT NOW… if you’d like a review copy then please get in touch.

VOLUME TWO… 100% COMPLETE… out next Friday… if you’d like to review this, message me on to be put on the list

VOLUME THREE… cover reveal coming soon


Ha ha.


the radical the informant

New Book Out Now

the radicalGuys and Gals,

A re-energised, re-edited version of my dystopian romance series has just begun to make its way in the world. You can visit to find out more. Or you can paste/click this link to be taken to your country’s Amazon site .

How do I get you to start reading a series? How do I get you to start reading full stop? There’s a lot out there available to read. And a series this long and this epic is an investment for sure!

I guess all I can really do is tell you what these books might do for you. Firstly, they may show you how me, Sarah Lynch, sowed the seeds of my writing career. THE RADICAL may be re-edited and souped up, but the essence of it is still my first novel. I think if you read it, you’ll see how very strongly this book took me, swept me off my feet and controlled me to the extent that I had to write it, had to get it down. It was an idea screaming so loudly in my ears. I continually had to fight off the urge until I just gave in and wrote it.

How did it become a series? What makes a series? How do you define A SERIES? Or is it just loads of words separated into volumes that should actually be one book…?

I have given this so much thought recently. So much thought. I have read a lot of series thinking “My god this could have been one book, or even a novella!” The truth is, well, a reader’s enjoyment is subjective for so many reasons. A lot of readers want to be carried off with an easy read, wheras many others prefer to be lumped in the realms of a thriller or mystery they can twist their minds with. I know that sometimes – my own experience is this – if we are constantly reading, reading, reading all the damn time, it gets tired. The same goes for writing. We need breaks in between the two. So if you come to something without any expectations and just let your eyes wash over it, let it sink into your head, you just don’t know what the feeling may be after you finish reading/and or writing. If you get me? 🙂

So, these books are a series and what defines them as a series is that they are a collection of puzzles. Each book is a puzzle to be unraveled and unfurled in itself. The puzzle will not be answered in volume one, nor volume two, or three, or even four. It will be solved when you go back and read them all a second time and go, “How did I not see these hints?”

Oh, and it’s only a few cents/pence at the moment! I am not underselling myself, not at all. Money is not important in this writing world. Investment in words – which costs nothing – is.


The Beauty of Science Fiction

I recently did a guest post on another website but thought I would post this here too… it pretty much says everything I am currently going through… 😉 and it’s all good!

The Beauty of Science Fiction…

As an author of erotica and contemporary romance, plus science-fiction, I have been on all sides of the writing spectrum. Each genre has its own challenges. In fact, genre is something widely discussed amongst the Indie writing community purely because many Indies have books that don’t necessarily fall into one category and therefore have been passed over numerous times by agents and/or publishers.

When I say science-fiction, in my mind I think of Quantum Leap, Star Wars, Star Trek or The Fly (this film terrified me when I first saw it). I think of Stephen King and The Stand, another story that left a lasting impact. I think of Blade Runner, The Fifth Element and even Demolition Man (don’t beat me with a stick). There are so many other films/books/comics I love because I love science-fiction. In fact, there are so many books/films that bob under the sci-fi radar because it is a genre that is all-encompassing. Did you think The Adjustment Bureau was necessarily sci-fi? Did you think Never Let Me Go was? The Time Traveller’s Wife?  Sci-fi does not leave those who prefer more romantic stories out in the cold.

My husband and I met through a mutual love of the arts. We were sent together to a Press night to review a play for a university magazine and it turned into a story… nine years on we have a daughter and have been married almost six years. When I met him, I had no idea I was marrying into science-fiction madness. His mother is a mad Trekkie. I am talking super mad! She can name you the title of any Star Trek episode just from the first line. She dragged my husband to Star Trek conventions when he was little and he has been indoctrinated in all the various offshoots of Trek… and beyond. My own love of sci-fi was something burning deep but not on the surface. I am just a lover of great stories… aren’t we all? It was only when I started writing sci-fi that I realised what a great source I had in my husband for ideas and opinions. Thus he became my editor.

When I started writing my first novel, all I saw was a theory. I didn’t classify it as one genre or another. I knew there would be a love story at the heart but I also knew the book would be set in the future and in some respects, this already placed it in the sci-fi bracket. Yet I also had a yearning for romance and felt I had to weave this in. I needed that too. So when I was asked to write this post, I got to thinking what differentiates straight erotica, straight romance, straight sci-fi. Setting perhaps, language maybe, yet you still have to throw a lot of imagination into whatever you try to tackle, whichever genre that may be.

Erotica was something I wanted to try my hand at because it was a challenge. It is not necessarily where my heart lies. Don’t get me wrong, I love erotic stories. I didn’t love Story of O at first. In fact I hated it. However, I grew to love it and now class it as one of my favourite books. Every reading always produces another insight or a different reaction. When I finished writing a pair of erotic novels last year, I was pretty pleased with the result. Some said the books were much more than erotica. And they were. I tackled some subjects that I felt were important to explore. In fact, there are tons and tons of erotic writers out there that have written much better stuff than will ever see the bottom of a jumble sale. That is because erotica, when done right, allows us to explore emotional issues no other genre allows so easily. Erotica can be so much more than just fantasy. It can be a vehicle of exploration for how intimacy and sexual honesty between two people can be such a force of good.

So after writing two erotic novels I wrote a contemporary romance titled Angel Avenue. It was such a joy to write, so easy in fact. I wrote about exactly what I knew. It is set in my own environs and it features characters I am familiar with, or versions of real people I know and respect and love. If any writer ever tells you they are not inspired by life, they are lying. Whether directly or indirectly, we all are. We are sometimes subliminally, subconsciously, inspired by real life whether we like it or not. Anyway, it was this switch from erotica to contemporary romance that made me realise a few things. It made me realise sometimes we forget the small stuff, which can make a heck of a difference in books. It makes us connect with characters so much more.

As for the sci-fi, that very first novel I began during maternity leave almost three years ago turned into a trilogy. It spun wildly out of control and I never thought I would get any success at all from it. In fact my first novel was my first creative outing. I had never even attempted a short story before then! I just had this dream and I followed it. I explored ideas and theories until they were wrung out. The point of this article is that I have recently gone back to these books and re-written/re-edited and re-imagined them. When I went back to the drawing board after writing three romance novels, I realised just what a task I had accomplished in writing a trilogy of sci-fi books. Because as you can imagine, sci-fi sometimes requires a whole new setting to be explained and described. It asks that we IMAGINE like we never imagine with any other genre. In science-fiction anything is possible. Nothing is off the table. As a romance writer first and foremost, that was difficult for me to master at first. I constantly thought of things in terms of would this actually happen ?? When in actual fact, I should have been telling myself, this is science-fiction and anything can bloody happen! My point is, science-fiction can comfortably feature action, thriller, romance, drama, adventure and fantasy, all within a completely different world. It can comment on universal political, social, moral and ethical issues. The challenge is immense but it is one I love and relish. Nothing excites or enthrals me as much. The possibilities are endless. It is exploring the people we are, through the things we could be capable of. And that is the beauty of science-fiction.


I Am Editing a Trilogy…

I began writing a trilogy some three years ago. Sometimes I still say to myself, “you just wrote a few strings of tales together and it somehow ended up as three books” because it will never sink in what I achieved. Writing those books was an enormous period of creativity for me. In fact, a lot of fellow journalists can probably sympathise with this – because I spent years hardly having time to read or write for myself. When you have been doing it all day, you hardly want to give it a go when you get home.

Years, and I mean years ago, I had this dream. It was of a couple in an airport lounge and I had the sense of them having been on a long journey together. They were facing a crossroad and had to decide whether to go forward together or go their separate ways. I had this strong sense of theirs being a world where love was dangerous. If you had someone, you had something to lose. There was a mysterious force at work behind the scenes… and well… I won’t spoil it.

That dream stayed with me for so long. I mean, my daughter is nearly three now and it was years before that that I had this dream. It never went away. I suffer vivid dreams all the time and never remember them, but I remembered that one.

So when I started to put it down it was without a clue what I was really doing. I just knew I had this story and I wanted to tell it. I didn’t think about the technicalities. And then, well, I put it out there and didn’t really promote it. Didn’t get any response from agents or publishers, as is par for the course. Family and friends told me they loved it and I just thought, “yeah, yeah, yeah…” you know, because they are biased and all. You can guess the rest…

So, over the course of my writing journey I have learnt that I feel most comfortable writing from a First Person perspective. I find Third Person difficult, not natural even, because I struggle to put myself in the mind of my characters then.

I felt stifled when I began novel writing, as if my mind was putting so many constraints on myself and what I could do in a book. I was too bothered by the little things to think more about the bigger issues. It is a difficult thing to explain. So I am NOW re-editing the entire trilogy with sections ripped and others re-enforced, with the singular voices of Seraph, Ryken and Camille et al guiding you on what will be an explosive, emotive, thrilling and escapist journey into a dystopian future world.

If any of you think you might find a blog history of my editing processes interesting, I might be persuaded… Otherwise don’t expect to get any sense from me for a while.

More details coming soon…

I really miss the Ravage trilogy…

I always said, my first books would probably be the closest to my heart. Yet I keep writing and I keep discovering new characters and new stories that mean just as much.

Oh man, though. When I go back and think about this futuristic trilogy and all the hours my husband and I spent on it… wow. It was a test of faith and endurance. I wrote some of it with a baby hanging off my boob, some of it while I was working and being a mummy, and the rest when I should have been sleeping.

Sometimes I cannot put into words when it still means to mean, what it will always mean to me.

I reloaded the paperback covers today so you can get them in matte (which looks fab by the way) and wanted to just post them here and remind people that the trilogy is out there. It’s futuristic, it’s packed with sex and action, there are page-turning adventures set to a rock soundtrack and an ass-kicking bunch of superhuman beings.

Seraphina Maddon and Ryken Hardy will never leave my heart.

Check it out alongside all my other books…



99 pence bookshelf…

Go to my AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE now to download any of my books for 99pence in the run-up to this Friday’s release of A Fine Pursuit, the sequel and conclusion to A Fine Profession

A Fine Profession WEBSITE USE

Meet the milliner, the dressmaker, the carpenter and the militant…

The milliner had been given only two hours to deal with her target. She had arranged it so that he would come to her. It was imperative she got in, and got out. She couldn’t risk her identity. As far as the authorities knew, she wasn’t even in the country, so being caught would spell certain catastrophe for not only her – but the cause too.

She was dressed casually, and with her hair pulled back into a tight bun, she looked just like any other library frequenter – except for the black ballet pumps laced firmly around her ankles – easier to perform in. No-one would presume that she was one of the deadliest creatures on the planet.

She sat at the end of a long, wide, wooden desk, reading Balzac quietly, with a polystyrene cup containing her espresso to hand. Even though she could barely see her surroundings, she resisted the temptation to switch on one of the desk lights, knowing the dim lighting would allow her more of the element of surprise. This part of the New York Public Library, the rare books section – with its crowded shelves but few visitors – was deserted save for her.

Like clockwork, he appeared. Smart navy-striped suit, possibly Saville Row. Grey hair, broad shoulders, bulky physique. There were three desks between hers and the one he had chosen to sit at.


As far as he was concerned, he was finally getting to meet a representative of the group he had risked so much for. He had sold out some good people to finally get his fingers in a few pies. This was everything he had ever wanted. Money, power, success. He could smell it, taste it almost, and he wore his best suit for the occasion. That morning, when he got the message to meet, he had not thought for a second that he would be placing himself in danger. He was not even concerned that the message came from an unknown source. He was simply overtaken by excitement at finally getting what he deserved. Status.

He had joined the resistance to get knowledge of their inner workings, hoping it would gain him respect from Officium if he could find out enough about their enemy. He was fed up of being an underachiever, a mediocre excuse for a man, and a disappointment to his wife and son. He’d never been fit and strong enough to become an agent, since a childhood illness left him without his left foot. He needed more than to be a simple tailor, in a dwindling and dying market. When a client of his, Hamish Maddon, told him about a resistance group he knew of, he had leapt on the opportunity to get in on it. He made promises about using his clientele to gather information. But he had secretly had a very sinister, ulterior motive. He had unwittingly given up Maddon, who had died along with his wife, after he had revealed the location of RAO’s meetings in New York. However, he had not carried out the act, so as far as he was concerned, he was without sin or recrimination. He simply knew he needed more from life, that’s all, and now he was there – deliriously expectant.

A mildly attractive woman suddenly appeared before him, standing with a book in hand. She smiled sweetly and asked, ‘Excuse me, but do you have the time? I can’t seem to find a single clock in this place.’

‘Of course,’ looking down at his watch, he said, ‘It’s a quarter to two.’

‘Thanks so much, that’s very kind of you.’ She continued smiling at him and stayed standing there. He felt it would be too rude to ask her if there was anything else, but his contact could arrive at any moment, and he became anxious.

She noted, ‘I hear the police are making headway into finally getting hold of the person responsible for the Maddon killings. You know, the heart surgeons? Apparently their loss will now mean at least four dozen people will have to wait six months longer for bypasses.’

He looked up at her face, shock spreading across his. He wondered, but it couldn’t possibly be… He had been so careful… hadn’t he? He nervously stood up. He looked into her eyes, but he struggled to gauge what was behind them. She stood there with hardly any expression whatsoever. That scared him more than anything.

‘Who are you?’ he asked.                                                                                    

‘I’m a friend of the dressmaker. You might have heard of her?’

He wanted to bolt out of the place. He was desperate to just start running.

‘Yes, it was a grave shame about the Maddons. Their daughter is without both her parents now. Imagine that, a young woman without her mum and dad. Being without one would certainly be bad enough, but without both…’

She didn’t seem intimidating, standing there casually holding her book between both hands in front of her. However, her words almost shocked the life out of him. He started to move away from behind the desk to make his escape. However, her book suddenly fell and he was drawn by its flight toward the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an almost inhuman shadow move with incredible velocity. She leapt up onto the desk he had moved away from, suddenly threw her body in the air and expertly sent a foot crashing into his chest to ensure he had taken his last breath. Then there was nothing. His mass fell to the floor, and she walked toward the exit to the stairwell.



FREE and celebratory


October is my birthday month and this year it is quite special because it’s my 30th and I am celebrating my achievements!

The celebrations begin with this free download from today until the end of play on Friday. Beneath the Veil is my first novel and it got me to where I am now. There were so many times I could have given up and I didn’t – and I am still so glad I went with it and did it! It’s hard stretching yourself to a full novel but once you catch the bug, that seems to be it! You’ve got it for life lol.

This is a futuristic dystopian romance of sorts. It defies genre. It is scifi meets romance meets action thriller. Ryken Hardy is the former British army doctor who meets tough NY journalist Seraph Maddon, more militant than writer. She stomps the streets looking for answers to why the world has become so corrupt, while he seems to have secrets he doesn’t want her to know about.

The Ravage Trilogy includes Beneath the Betrayal and Beneath the Exile. The are loads of secrets packed in these books, loads of action scenes, sex, gadgets and thrilling chases. I guess I have been mega busy writing and haven’t given these books the promotion they deserve.

These books mean the world to me because they mark my development as a writer and I just… god. Read them. There is so much more to them than meets the eye. There’s a massive twist in Book One that has explosive consequences in Book Three. There are scenes that take you from Paris to NY, to Russia and NZ and beyond.

I do this because I love words. I love that my words have helped people and most of all, the non-readers I got reading this book are what I did it for.

I am reading BTV myself this week (first time ever I won’t be reading to edit) and will be tweeting my thoughts and feelings! Tweetalong if you dare! @SarahMichelleLy