The Nightlong Series Blog Tour & Giveaway

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The Contract
The Nightlong Series Book 1
by Sarah Michelle Lynch
Genre: Erotic Thriller
A taut, erotic thriller from the pen of Sarah Michelle Lynch, author of
the thrilling
Sub Rosa Series.
Cleo wasn’t my real name.
The way I met Dante wasn’t ordinary.
What I was employed to do for him wasn’t romantic.
His job was even more strange.
I fell for a man I hated…
With a passion.
I became someone I hated in the process…
A Mistress.
Only with guts,
patience and determination
did
I survive.
**Get it FREE!!**
The Fix
The Nightlong Series Book 2
You don’t know my story.
You don’t know about the first woman
To take my heart.
The woman who
Bewitched
Teased
Humiliated
And fascinated me.
By the end of my tale, you’ll know
The real Dante Sinclair,
The man behind the myth.
You’ll know who my heart belongs to
And why I can never give up
What I am.
The fixer could be fixed
BUT
To fix me or her . . . ?
That is the question.
The Risk
The Nightlong Series Book 3
The highly evocative Nightlong series concludes . . .
Love may be the greatest risk
The harshest lesson,
or
The sweetest salve.
Love may also be the one
True way to overcome
Pain,
Sadness,
All of our grief.
I want to chase love
But the risks in this instance
Are massive and the odds
Favour no one.
Doom seems our fate,
Tragedy looms, inevitable
Murder taints the air we breathe.
Will love triumph?
Or was this never about love . . .
Some readers run at Sarah with hugs and kisses, while others shoot daggers
at her for killing their favourite character off. Sarah can only
apologise and say, “The story made me do it…”
Sarah Michelle Lynch is a former journalist who wrote a trilogy of science
fiction novels while on maternity leave. In 2012 she took a deep
breath and published the “Ravage Trilogy” which was later
re-edited and became the UNITY novels. Sarah is lucky that some
readers have been with her since the very beginning and have read all
the different books she’s written.
It quickly became clear from reader response that Sarah has a flair for
penning erotic scenes and so, Sarah took inspiration from real-life
people around her and wrote “A Fine Profession”, a
compelling and compassionate read. At book signings readers often
confess in a whisper that they’ve read this book – Sarah’s
first erotic novel – and sometimes, readers have even admitted it’s
their personal favourite.
Sarah loves nothing more than to put her feet up with a book and be
consumed by a story, so in turn, she endeavors to give you all this
and more.
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!

 

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“They Say I’m Doing Well” Blog Tour – Stop #11 – Lisa Fulham

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New Year, New Me.

The first of January. A new start, a new me, but where am I supposed to put the old me?

Cracking the spine on my new diary with pen in hand I begin my yearly ritual of listing the things I want to achieve, but as my ballpoint hits the page I have a moment of anxiety; I don’t even know what I want for lunch so how can I write a list of things I want to achieve over the next twelve months? In frustration I pick up last year’s diary which was so important to me only yesterday but now feels like a lead brick weighing me down; listed in these pages I see nothing but failures which is highlighted most when I turn to the first page and see last year’s wish list.

The few small things I managed to achieve I crossed out to the point you can’t read what was there as an act of pure joy at having completed something . . . anything. I can’t even remember what those things were even though they clearly brought me a sense of accomplishment at the time. Glaring back at me between the sparse scribbles is everything I failed to do.

  • Take a night course in photography

I’d talked myself out of this one pretty early in the year because who would I take pictures of? It’s not as though I’m a social butterfly who people want to hang out with all the time and there’s only so many pictures of landscapes and buildings a person can take before it’s just seen as sad.

  • Lose a stone in weight

I at least started this one and managed to lose seven pounds. I was half way to my goal when Jon—my boyfriend of two years—dumped me and cake became my solace.

  • Complete a charity run

This one was vetoed due to not losing the weight. No one wants to see a fat girl run.

  • Book a trip to Bali

After Jon left there really wasn’t much point in booking the trip. There was no way I could travel all that way alone, I wouldn’t have made it onto the plane before my anxiety kicked in and that’s if I survived the horrors of holiday clothes shopping. Picking out a one piece while everyone around you decides if they want matching tops and bottoms to their bikinis, or if vogue was right and mix and matching was the way to go this season. Not exactly my idea of a good time.

The more I looked at the list the angrier I became with myself. Seeing in black and white everything you didn’t do isn’t the best feeling in the world, but when you’re a masochist like me you can’t help but keep reliving the pain of disappointment while constantly slicing the knife across your already torn and bleeding heart. Hours slip by as I read page after page about this woman I don’t know; her handwriting is just like mine, but I refuse to believe the words she writes are mine.

The pages of January and February are mostly filled with tiny victories in the diet and exercise area, mixed with uncertainty as to why Jon was becoming distant and unsupportive of the new me I was trying to achieve.

In March I found out why, he didn’t love me. He told me no one would be able to love someone who hid behind a fake illness like depression. He said I just didn’t want to be happy and he wouldn’t allow me to drag him down too so he left. Reading the thoughts and feelings I had during those months bring tears streaming down my face. How could I have ever allowed one person to make me feel so worthless?

Throughout April I seem to have been numb and there’s no evidence of attempting anything on my list of dreams for the year. In fact, I barely wrote in my diary at all and the few pages I did weren’t easy to read through the tear stains.

May was the month my mum marched me to the doctors because I wasn’t coping with life. I wasn’t dealing with my thoughts and emotions and I certainly wasn’t living . . . I was simply alive and present in body alone. Reading back makes me ashamed of myself. The hate and abuse I pushed onto my own mum for doing nothing other than love me and want me to be well makes me sick to my stomach and once again the list of dreams were ignored which is ironic as my doctor had told me I needed to focus on myself.

I make a mental note to spend tomorrow with mum and to let her know I love her always and apologise for the way I treated her back then.

During June and July I took my meds, went to work and moved back into my mum’s house so she could take care of me. What I wrote was that the world could get fucked and I was reverting back to being a small child who needed her mummy to tuck her in at night to keep the bad dreams away.

June and July were slightly dramatic months for me.

August saw me take a trip, not to Bali and not on my own, but a trip none the less. A few friends and I went to Paris for the weekend. Reading the apprehension I felt beforehand brings the feelings crashing through my body once again and for a moment my chest is tight and my breathing shallow, I don’t think I can continue this trip down memory lane, but I know I have to. I don’t know why, but I know looking back on the year gone by is what I need to do to be able to look to the year ahead.

The trip was one I’d always wanted to take, but had thought I would take it with Jon and we would explore the most romantic city in the world together.

Reading the fun the girls and I had while there brought me my first smile from the pages of last year. Seeing the Louvre, The Mona Lisa, The Eiffel Tower and losing myself in the gothic beauty of Notre Dame were a turning point for me; they reminded me there was a world out there and it was mine for the taking. The medication helped me not get too excited, the last thing I needed was to set my sights too high; I was all too familiar with the fall which could and inevitably would follow. My most vivid and profound memory of the trip though was adding my padlock to the hoards of others on the Pont Des Arts or bridge of love as it is more commonly known.

Surrounded by lovers holding hands and making promises to each other I crouched down and made a promise to my heart—never again would I give it to someone unworthy, someone who would not fight to protect it and rather than throw my key in the river, I brought it home and stuck it in my diary.

Fingering the outline of the key the promise I made slips from my lips “One day I’ll come back here with someone who loves me for my ugly parts, the parts I only show him and we’ll unlock you again.”

September always feels like a new start, something probably instilled in me from my school days and last September was no different. My every day routine became just that . . . routine. Things I found hard only four weeks before such as get out of bed or meet up with friends I managed without anxiety. I no longer worried if I made arrangements with friends they would cancel or that it would be one of the days I refused to get out of bed. I could go shopping in the local supermarket instead of driving twenty miles to the next town just to be sure I wouldn’t bump into Jon and fall apart.

It was also the month people began to comment on how well they thought I was coping with life. I think having that kind of external validation was something I needed to be able to see the change in myself.

October and November I decided to get back on track with my diet and fitness. I joined a swimming club, running club and dance class. I almost chickened out on the dance class because of my weight, the fact that I couldn’t dance and I also had no partner, but my never wavering wall of support or mum as she prefers to be called refused to let me quit before I started and she came with me—trust me, seeing a fifty-five year old woman attempt street dancing will have you laughing off the pounds if nothing else. After a few lessons it had become one of my favourite ways to spend my time, the class was fun and I was partnered with a guy called Joe. He was a little younger than me, really fit and a great dancer; he wasn’t so bad on the eyes either.

The dance school hosted a Halloween show and even the beginners like me who had only just realised they had a left and a right foot were involved; because Joe was my partner and he was an experienced dancer we had a dance where we were the leads. We practised every night to get me up to par and each practise session ended later than the last. The night before the show Joe asked me if he could take me out for a drink, at first I thought he meant the whole cast were going and he wanted me to tag along, that was until he kissed me. The page for the thirty-first of October was filled with a flyer for the show and the rose Joe had given me as I walked out of the girl’s changing room.

December read like a love struck teenager wrote the entries, but the truth is I’m still learning a lot about Joe and myself as individuals—he calls us a couple, I call us love buddies.

Having relived the past year in just a few hours I realise how tired it’s made me, the year drained me for twelve months and I just let it take the first few hours of the New Year which lies before me.

I hear Joe walk into the bedroom, I think he’s been doing it a few times while I’ve been reading, but he knows when I need space and respects me enough to give it to me. Looking up at him I know no matter what the year ahead has in store, the lessons I’ve learned with this man will help me steer clear of my darker parts or at least know if I visit them, they cannot keep me for as long as they once did.

Cracking open my new diary once again I write without hesitation.

My goals for the year ahead

  • Live
  • Love
  • Learn
  • Laugh

My friends and family say I’m doing well, but I’m doing so much better than well, I’m doing strong and focused and MINDful. For the first time in my life I’m listening to the warning bells my mind and body send me. I’m learning to live within my own limitations and knowing that having limitations does not make me weak, it makes me human. I now see that asking for help is the strongest thing I can do while living with depression. I know anxiety can always appear without a moment’s hesitation, but I also know the breathing exercises I need to do to fight it.

Am I fixed? No, I don’t believe I was broken. I’m just wired differently to others.

I do have a new me stepping into the world this year, but where do I put the old me? I keep her inside of me because she is the greatest person to teach me things about myself.

Lisa Fulham © 2016

author bio

I am an explorer of words. I love to create new people and see what adventures they can go on, but most of all I love to write. My words are my passion. 2015 saw me attend my first book signing and I am pleased to announce I will be attending a Leeds signing in 2016 too. Please check out my blog for all my latest news and work

Blog http://lisafulham298.wordpress.com/

Twitter: @lisa298

DONATE BUTTON

Thank you so much for taking part Lisa!

To see the full list of authors taking part in this month-long blog tour, [click here]

To find out what “They Say I’m Doing Well” is all about, [click here]

“They Say I’m Doing Well” Blog Tour – Stop #6 – Hemmie Martin

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Dear diary by Hemmie Martin

5th January 2015

I’ve learnt to smile when they enter my room, I’ve learnt to tip back the meds in my mouth, and I’ve learnt to eat when they present me with food. All this so I can hear them say that I’m doing well; my heart swells at those words as I know I’m managing to deceive them. I’m not well at all, dear diary, as well you know. But that’s our little secret.

6th January 2015

Lunch was vile today, but I smiled when they walked past my table, scooping the rice salad under a domed lettuce leaf; the perfect ruse. How stupid must they be if a fourteen-year-old girl can fool them? Ha.

The bloody psychologist loves the sound of her own frigging voice. She droned on about body image, social and peer pressure, and the need to love ourselves. I wanted to tell her we know all that, only she gets paid for spouting it out, and we get told we know jack-shit because we’re young. What they don’t get is that the youth rule the world; old people only rent a space, and we kick them out of when they get too mouthy. Fuck off now lady.

7th January 2015

It was visiting day today. Lucky me got a visit from my fat mum; she’s so gross. She told me, they say you’re doing well, and I laughed in her face. She gave me those puppy-dog eyes as though I beat her with the lead instead of taking her out for a walk.

She asked me what the food was like, and I told her it was like a five-star all-inclusive hotel. She smiled inanely. God I don’t want to be like her, in any way.

She bleated on about my school friends and what GCSE’s they were going to do in the future. I could tell she was disappointed at her lot. She can’t brag to the other mums about me, although she could brag I was the thinnest if she cared to. Ha.

8th January 2015

Since her visit yesterday, I’ve been a moody cow. I’ve forgotten why I should smile, take my meds, and eat. In fact, I threw my lunch across the dining room, and now I have to sit with the nurse later to discuss my feelings, as if that’s going to help. I’m going to keep my mouth shut; see how she copes with that.

1st February 2016

Hello diary, old friend. I’m sorry I stopped talking to you last year; I stopped talking to anyone for months. In fact, I became so ill, I was hospitalised as I was close to death; so close I could almost touch his gnarly face.

I thought I wanted to die, to free myself from this life that blackened my soul. I believed it so hard, I thought nothing would change my mind. Then I met her.

4th February 2016

Sorry about leaving you hanging yesterday, I was knackered. Where was I, oh yeah, Lizzie. I met her early last year in the eating disorder place before I went into hospital.

Lizzie’s a cool nurse, with dyed red hair, glasses, and a nose stud. I saw her as fat, but back then I thought anyone with plump cheeks rather than my sunken ones, was obese.

Anyway, she spent a lot of time listening to me, not judging or interrupting me, but listening, like a good friend would; I imagine, I’ve never had one. I could talk openly and freely, even swear if I wanted to. She didn’t get upset with me if I ranted at her, or sickly-sweet if I cried. She was just there, every week, just for me.

So now, a year later, I can’t feel my ribs or see my sharp cheekbones, I look almost normal. Almost. I still battle with my emotions and with certain foods, but Lizzie’s still around, and I attend a weekly therapy group she hooked me up with. There are some bitches there, but Lizzie said they’re everywhere, I just have to learn to cope with them, like she does.

You’ve been my constant companion, diary, but when times got tough, even you couldn’t help me. But Lizzie never gave up on me, even when I pushed her away. Maybe one day, I’ll be a mental health nurse like Lizzie. One day.

Hemmie Martin © 2016

author bio

Hemmie Martin spent most of her professional life as a Community Nurse for people with learning disabilities, a Family Planning Nurse, and a Forensic Nurse working with young offenders. She spent six years living in the south of France, and currently lives in Essex with her husband. http://www.hemmiemartin.com

DONATE BUTTON

 

Thank you so much for taking part Hemmie!

To see the full list of authors taking part in this month-long blog tour, [click here]

To find out what “They Say I’m Doing Well” is all about, [click here]

giveaway

514iEjfBn8LHemmie is giving away a paperback copy of her latest novel. All you have to do is visit Hemmie’s FB, drop her a like if you haven’t already, and post on her wall with “Interested in G&G”. Good luck!

Visit Hemmie’s page

 

“They Say I’m Doing Well” Blog Tour – Stop #5 – Andie M Long

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I’m more than happy to tell you about my own anxiety and depression. If this story helps even one person then that’s great.

When I was twenty-one I moved into my first house (just me) and one week later I went abroad with my boyfriend. While there I had a couple of episodes of what we attributed to ‘too much sun.’ I was shaking and felt sick and had to go back to the apartment on two occasions. It would be three years before these were diagnosed as panic attacks.

At twenty-four I felt faint while on the bus. I got off in Sheffield City Centre and banged on the doors of Yorkshire Bank. I knew they had closed to customers but I also knew my sister was behind that door. We caught a taxi back to my house, thinking I had a virus. That virus lasted three years. During these three years I would be diagnosed with ME and struggle to keep my job. I lived on my own and yet relied on my boyfriend, sister and parents to get me to the places I needed to be. During that time I became obsessed with gardening, the only means of escape I had from my four walls. Unfortunately I had bad neighbours at either side. At one side a man who would get drunk and smack his wife every Friday night, the other, a Schizophrenic. Three doors down another man with mental health problems. I came home one day and the kids of wife-beater had gone into my garden and ripped all the heads off my flowers. They couldn’t see the problem.

I worked at the local psychiatric unit in Admin. I therefore knew when my next door neighbour was admitted and what he’d been admitted for. The previous night I’d told Den I could smell burning. He told me I was being stupid. I snuck a read of his case notes . He had tried to set his bedroom on fire. That bedroom adjoined mine. He’d abscond from the ward and return home. I’d hear tunnelling noises near the cellar and he’d shout through the walls that he was going to kill my cats. He tried to set some of my plants on fire. When he eventually was rehomed, the water services said he had indeed been digging towards my cellar and had just missed vital pipework.

One night the man a few doors down started his usual behaviour; playing the same song on repeat, extremely loudly, for hours and hours. This is the point I would say that I had a complete nervous breakdown. I rang my parents in tears saying I couldn’t cope any more. They took me to their house and I spent the night in a quiet bedroom, no doubt worrying them to death, but saying I couldn’t cope any more.

I was lucky. My mum got me an appointment at my G.P. surgery. It was a new G.P. One who listened and said I needed to try anti-depressants. I’d had one attempt before and the side effects had been too weird and severe. I’d only taken one. This G.P. took time to reassure me and told me that I could feel really sick for two weeks, but to think of it like flu and that in a couple of weeks I’d feel better.

The tablets made me vomit profusely for three days. They altered my pupils and made me look like I had a mad stare for two days. I made light of it but I know my family was worried. I started to feel less sick and more, well, normal. Just over a fortnight later I sat up in bed on a nice morning and asked Den if he’d take me to a garden centre. You have no idea how much of a shock this was. I’d barely left my house in three years.

I was re-diagnosed. I’d not had ME, I’d had limiting panic attacks and depression. That G.P. spent months with me on and off, showing me some behavioural therapy, such as spinning me in a chair to reassure me that although I’d get dizzy it would wear off. Without her I don’t know how I would have ended up to be honest. My body when it gets low truly makes me feel I can’t get to the end of the road. That I’m sick and exhausted. I know this because under the direction of new G.P.s I reduced and came off my medicine twice more.

The second time I became depressed and agoraphobic. I could only walk around my street. It would wear me out. Then I could only get to the post box. Then the top of the drive. When my father broke down in tears in front of me I knew I needed medication again. My father, the stocky, hard as nails, Police Sergeant. This couldn’t go on.

The third time my depression hit after I’d had a period of severe anaemia and flu. It was the worst bout I’d ever had. I’d sit in the car and wonder what would happen if I put my foot down and pranged the car in front. I didn’t want to kill myself. I just wanted to feel something. My medicines had to be increased this time, as the bout was so bad. I’d only taken a low dose on my second episode, as it was primarily anxiety and 10mg did the job. This time I needed the standard dose of 20mg. I was warned it could make me feel worse. I kept a diary of the side effects so I knew how bad they made me feel throughout this time. That diary is heartbreaking to read. Knowing how low I got and felt during that time. The increase in tablets gave me twenty-four hours where I had to tell Den I felt unsafe and to keep an eye on me. There was broken glass on the ground and I wondered how it would feel if I cut my arm. I thought about sitting on my window sill upstairs. Stupid things. Again, they were never full suicidal thoughts, just ridiculous ones that came into my mind all connected with the fact I was just so damn numb.

It passed and I improved. That was four years ago. I remain on the medication and I don’t intend to ever come off it. Maybe in time there will be improved medicines to change to. I say often, diabetics aren’t expected to stop insulin, why are depressed people taken off their tablets? If it’s situational depression and the stressor is eliminated yes, but for long term sufferers of anxiety and depression, no. I expected a fight on review with my current G.P., a no-nonsense character. He surprised me, ‘sounds sensible.’

I have low days, but I don’t attribute these to my depression. We all have low, crap days. I still have the occasional panic attack but I breathe steady and try to let it pass. I don’t hide my anxiety and depression and because of this I can tell my friends if I’m having a wobble.

If you haven’t tried medicine and I know many people are reluctant, I hope this gives you the confidence you need to ask for it. Yes you may feel at first as if you’re losing your mind even more. Afterwards you might just find you have your life back. I’m glad that my anxiety and depression are not restricting me so much these days and I can be the fab mother, partner, family member and friend I desire to be. If your health practitioners are unsympathetic, find another who is. The only thing I’ve really been left with out of all this, is I hate to feel out of control, because it reminds me too much of my illness. That’s why I rarely drink and why sometimes I escape back to my hotel room while others dance for hours. In Peterborough in March at my first book signing after party, although I still only had one drink, I did dance all night. It was the first time in years I felt I had properly let go and been myself.

I hope my story has given hope or reassurance to others. You wouldn’t know I had all this going on to look at me. In fact the thing people say to me most when I tell them I’m on anti-depressants, ‘But you’re always smiling.’ That’s right, because my anxiety and depression are currently well controlled and for that reason I’ll smile every single minute.

Update:

Recently I suffered from labyrinthitis/benign positional vertigo for a number of weeks. The feeling of permanent dizziness started to lead to increased staying at home. I was aware of going downhill, with mood and feelings of agoraphobia and panic when I tried to go out. I set myself the challenge of going a little further each day and managed to get back on my feet. My family were ecstatic as they’d seen I was wavering.

They say I’m doing well. What no-one sees is the inner struggle I go through every day to appear that way.

Andie M Long © 2016

author bio

Author of The Alpha Series: The Alphabet Game, The Calendar Game and The Alphabet Wedding, plus Underneath and Quickies. She writes books in different genres so be sure to check them out!

Andie is a mum of one from Sheffield, UK, who desperately tries to juggle the day job, motherhood, writing, gardening and her other obsessions. She has a long suffering partner.

DONATE BUTTON

Thank you so much for taking part Andie!

To see the full list of authors taking part in this month-long blog tour, [click here]

To find out what “They Say I’m Doing Well” is all about, [click here]

giveaway

511Ifw74-3L._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_.jpgAndie is giving away an ecopy of her yet-to-be released romantic/comedy novella Balls! All you have to do is comment on this post with your ball(sy) reason as to why Andie should pick you as her winner!

Good luck!!

 

related links

Andie on Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndieMichelle

Andie on FB: https://www.facebook.com/andiemlongwriter

“They Say I’m Doing Well” Blog Tour – Stop #4 – Audrina Lane

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A look, a glance, a cheerful smile

Hello, how are you? How’s things?

You reply in kind with words of

Fine, I’m good, how are you?

But do they listen?

Do they just see the face?

But is it real or is it fake?

Beyond the mask is what really counts

They never see my pain

The sorrow and the bleakness

Desolation swirls again

A cage to confine and constrict

Each moment is an effort

Requiring acting skill

To keep the glue that holds in place

The image I portray

Who can really see behind

This lie of life I lead

The mirror shows me what I mean

The despair of self esteem

Eroded gradually through time

Cruel words and taunts

Echoing

I hear them all

They whisper

Some might know the score

Some see the darkness in my eyes

A shuffle in my gait

Dressing to remain obscured

To hide my truth away

And sometimes

A tear slips and falls

As my ears pick up upon

The words uttered as I walk away

They say I’m doing well

Audrina Lane © 2016

author bio

Audrina Lane lives with her partner Steve and two Labradors in Herefordshire where The Heart Trilogy is set. The first book is based on a diary the author wrote in 1992 and is inspired by her own experiences of first love.

The other books in the series, Unbreak My Heart and Closer to the Heart are out now. To find out more about Audrina and her books, visit www.audrinalane.co.uk or http://author.to/audrinalane.

DONATE BUTTON

Thank you so much for taking part Audrina!

To see the full list of authors taking part in this month-long blog tour, [click here]

To find out what “They Say I’m Doing Well” is all about, [click here]

giveaway

Where did your Heart go 1

 

Audrina is giving away an ecopy of her first book and some swag to go with it. To win, visit The Heart Trilogy page, pop a like on the page if you haven’t already and say “Sarah sent me”.

 

 

“They Say I’m Doing Well” Blog Tour – Stop #3 – SJ Warner

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 They say I’m doing well

But what do they know?

They see my smile

think I’m good to go.

*

They cannot see

just what my smile hides.

The battles I have

with the demons inside.

 *

Nobody knows the struggle

every day brings.

Some days I’m crippled

by the voices that sing.

*

Telling me how

useless I am,

that I’m ugly and hated,

how my life is a sham.

 *

Yes I do battle

and sometimes I win,

those days are the light

from the darkness within.

 *

So yes, they are right

today I’m doing well

but what of tomorrow?

Only time will tell.

*END*

Copyright © S.J Warner 2016.

 DONATE BUTTON

Thank you so much for taking part S J!

To see the full list of authors taking part in this month-long blog tour, [click here]

To find out what “They Say I’m Doing Well” is all about, [click here]

author bio

S.J Warner lives in the north of England with her husband and three children. An avid reader from an early age she knew she always wanted to write but life got in the way and she put all thoughts of writing to one side until one day in 2012 she was challenged to write a short story. That story led her on a journey into poetry, more short stories and finally to producing three collections of her poetry and her first full length novel. She enjoys reading many different genres her favourites being erotica and horror.

related links

Facebook – http://m.facebook.com/sjpoetica

Google plus –   https://plus.google.com/u/0/+SJWarner

Author central – http://Author.to/SJWarner

Blog – http://sjw2014.wordpress.com

“They Say I’m Doing Well” Blog Tour – Stop #1 – Grace Harper

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“That bloody woman has done it again,” Ruby spat out as she dug deep in the coffee jar with her spoon. She lifted out a heaped spoonful and threw the coffee granules and the spoon into her giant sized mug. “Why does she have to look at me like I’m an alien from another world? Yesterday, I asked a simple question, I was clear and used simple words, but she said I don’t understand, can you say that again. I swear one day I’ll pour my coffee all over her head.” Ruby had poured hot water into her mug from the urn in the corner of the tiny kitchen. Turning, she threw the metal spoon into the metal sink from four feet away. The loud clatter as it landed made Hailey jump. Hailey could see both sides of the issue. It didn’t bother her, that Verity wanted clarification on some things that were asked of her. Hailey happily repeated anything that Verity wanted to hear again. For an intelligent, accomplished woman, Hailey wasn’t quite sure why Verity stared blankly at Ruby but she put it down to her need to get things correct first time. Hailey could also understand Ruby’s frustration, she was a busy person and didn’t have time for repeating any instructions.

“Hailey, I think it’s time to speak to the boss again about Verity, he needs to know about her incompetence, I just can’t cope with it anymore.” Ruby took a hasty sip of her coffee and bit her tongue, this was immediately followed by a string of expletives that would make a sailor proud.

“Everyone has their individual issues, she hasn’t actually done anything wrong and she’s excellent at her job. You need to relax a bit and take it in your stride.”

Yesterday was a stressful day for Verity, she was at her most confused. After dressing for work, she stood in the hallway and looked at her husband, Stuart. She couldn’t remember his name, so she called him darling as she kissed him goodbye, wishing him a good day. On the way to work, getting on the bus, she couldn’t remember the name of the bus stop she needed to get off at and it took a long time to ask the driver for the correct destination. The tutting and huffing from the passengers behind her in the queue didn’t help her concentration to remember the stop’s name. Sitting at her desk the next day, Verity shrunk back in her seat when she saw Ruby coming towards her. She knew what was going to happen next.

Surreptitiously, Ruby sidled up to Verity and cleared her throat. “Arnold wants to see you, now Verity.” Ruby said loud enough or the whole floor to hear.

Allowing the words to sink in, Verity pushed away from her desk and collected her handbag. The two dozen other office workers were all staring in her direction. She shrank a little into her clothes and reached the door. She blinked a couple of times and turned back to Ruby. She had already forgotten which floor she had to go to but daren’t ask Ruby again. She pressed the metal button next to the door to release the lock, trying to remember. Instinctively she climbed the stairs to the top floor and remembered where she needed to go. Verity contemplated what she would say to the boss. Her anger was building at being sent to a modern day headmaster’s office by the classroom bully. Verity was fully aware that she was forgetful, she tried memory games to improve her capabilities. She wrote as much down as possible, she just forgot to look at the piece of paper. Often, Verity wouldn’t remember that there was a note to refer to.

Yawning and holding onto the rail, it was at the fourth-floor level that she’d wished she’d taken the lift. Her desk was on the second floor and Verity had already tripped twice. She swore that the steps were getting smaller as she climbed the floors.

Into the boss’ office Verity walked while knocking on the door, Arnold was sitting at his desk, which had reams and reams of paper stacked in neat piles. His warm smile eased her anger and she took a seat at the conference room table he invited her to sit at. There was a row of pens lined up in front of her and she neatened them while she waited for him to join her.

Arnold was holding a single sheet of paper and placed it flat on the table as he sat. “Will you pass me the black pen?”

Mute, Verity stared at the set of pens and struggled to work out which one of them were black so she picked up all four and handed them to Arnold.

“Doing better,” he said, “thank you.” Arnold took the pens and smiled. “You asked me when I hired you to let you go when things were becoming noticeable. I’ve had three separate complaints from Ruby, she thinks you’re a pain in the arse and don’t listen, but I know differently.”

Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have been so lenient, but she was different. He was going to look after her. He pushed the piece of paper over to her side of the table and turned it over. “I am going to make you redundant, that way you will have a financial package to fall back on while you’re looking for your next role.”

It wasn’t Verity’s usual reaction to these situations but she burst into tears. She’d been working for Arnold’s company for six years, whereas Ruby had only worked there for six months. “I’m grateful Uncle Arnold, I know I’m getting worse and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Now, I wish I could offer you home working but it would mean I would have to offer it to all the staff and that’s something that financially the company couldn’t afford to do. When is your next assessment?”

“Going back to the hospital next week, I don’t expect that it will be good news, but at least they’re taking me seriously. They think I’m doing well, but I’m not so sure.”

“Why would you say that? You’re doing so much better, we’ll just have to find another way for you to adapt. It’s not often you hear about a woman in her thirties suffering from dementia.”

“Every day is a struggle,” she looked around the room, itching to leave. “I’d better be going, Stuart will start to worry if I’m home late.”

“Love, I think you’ll be ok for a while, it’s only 10am. Go on home, spend the day watching movies and eating junk food. You enjoyed the lemon tart you had last week at our place.”

“Lemon tart, really? Did I?” Verity allowed Arnold to escort her from his office, holding her elbow as they entered the lift. He was going to take her back to her desk and drive her home. The last thing he wanted was for her to get lost again.

Grace Harper © 2016

author bio

Grace Harper is a British author who loves to write about strong women and the friends and lovers who make them stronger. She adores writing steamy scenes of first encounters and there is always a little twist along the way.

When Grace is not writing, she can be found mooching about in stationery stores, dreaming up tattoo designs or teasing her friends until everyone is in fits of giggles. Grace might have a Maltesers addiction but is not ready to stand up and own that just yet.

If you want to get in touch, please do, Grace is pretty laid back and friendly.

http://author.to/graceharper

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Thank you so much for taking part Grace!

To see the full list of authors taking part in this month-long blog tour, [click here]

To find out what “They Say I’m Doing Well” is all about, [click here]

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Grace is giving away a paperback copy of CHARMING OLIVIA. To be in with a chance of winning, follow this link to sign up for Grace’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/5-eXX

**Competition open internationally and a winner will be picked at random**

Announcing the “They Say I’m Doing Well” Blog Tour, February 1st-29th, 2016 in conjunction with the #LeedsAuthorEvent2016

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On March 5th, I will be signing books, swag, breasts, shoulders, more books and photobooks (anything with a space really)… and I will be in very good company alongside 60+ other authors:

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This event is a chance for authors, bloggers, readers and the book community as a whole to come together and support one another, celebrate their love of books, meet and greet, put names to faces… the list is endless. Unless you’ve been to one of these events, you can’t really fathom how invaluable an event like this is. Most of us sit behind a PC, a tablet or a phone in most of our communications with readers, so this is a rare and much-looked-forward to time for togetherness.

When I found out that Hourglass Events aka Jo and Rachel, who have organised this signing, had chosen to support Mind with this upcoming signing event in Leeds, it triggered something for me – because awareness of mental health issues is something I feel very strongly about. While my sister ran the Great North Run to support Mind, this is my little way of supporting the charity as I work in conjunction with Hourglass Events to bring you this Blog Tour.

Mind works with all kinds of official bodies to ensure that people in the UK with mental health problems get the help and support they need. You only need to visit their website to see the resources and information they offer. What they do is invaluable and like any other charity, donations are always welcomed and are in fact – necessary.

How many people do you know who’ve:

  • Been put on a waiting list for counselling or other therapies;
  • Haven’t found counselling has helped and haven’t known where to turn afterwards;
  • Have been refused emergency help from their local authority. This happened at a hospital near me recently – resulting in the tragic death of one young woman.

Mind works to ensure nobody faces a mental health issue alone, working with local authorities to ensure everyone with a mental health problem gets the correct support and advice they might desperately need.

However, while raising money for Mind is important, raising awareness is something we can all take part in – so this is why I bring you this blog tour in conjunction with this brilliant author event.

Twenty-nine authors will bring you words each day in the month of February. Authors well-known and lesser-known will bring you inspiring, emotive, often realistic insights in the form of poetry, short stories, articles – all containing just one universal sentence:

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This is not an event dictated by mental illness. Our authors talk about being human and recognising we all have issues. Most of us have either experienced a mental health problem at some point or know of someone who has. Among the madness of our busy lives, remaining aware is very important. Some of us have stories of triumph and understanding that can help other people through their own struggles. Some of us have words that might touch other people, letting them know they are really not alone in their thoughts, feelings or ideas.

The authors taking part include:

Alexandra North

Amelia J Hunter

Andie M Long

Anna-Maria Athanasiou

Audrina Lane

Blake Rivers

Carrie Elks

Charlotte Hart

Claire C Riley

EJ Shortall

Eleanor Lloyd-Jones

Francesca Marlow

Glenn Haigh

Grace Harper

HA Robinson

Hemmie Martin

JD Chase

Lavinia Urban

Lisa Fulham

Mandy Gibson

Muriel Garcia

Rachel Hague

Rebecca Sherwin

Sarah Elizabeth

Sarah Michelle Lynch

Scarlett Flame

SJ Warner

T A McKay

Victoria L James

Many of these authors are attending the Leeds Author Event 2016 and on the day of the signing, there will be raffled prizes up for grabs with proceeds of the raffle(s) going to Mind.

BEFORE MARCH HOWEVER… and throughout the month of February, many of the authors (above) will be offering giveaways as part of the blog tour so please join the tour, share your own experiences and stay tuned…

Be back here on Monday, February 1st.

☆☆Sub Rosa Trilogy Blog Tour☆☆

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Trilogy Overview

The story begins in 2011. Journo Chloe Harmon starts a new job in London and meets photographer Cai Matthews, a younger man with talents beyond Chloe’s comprehension. Not only is he talented, he’s trapped by a mystery from the past he’s been bound by. He has NO WAY OUT. He cannot turn a corner without his every move being recorded by his ever-watchful aunt, Jennifer Matthews, a world-famous fashion editor with vast amounts of power at her fingertips.

Cai may be trapped. However, Chloe chases Cai even when he leaves the country because she has a few life experiences under her belt which have made her tougher than she seems. UNBIND is where the story begins and UNFURL is where it continues…

Chloe knows there was a death. It has been painted so many different ways already and there are still other ways of painting it yet. There are questions to be answered and the story gets darker as Cai and Chloe try to make a life together…

KAY (4)In the concluding part of the trilogy, UNLEASH, the story drags Chloe’s best friend Kayla Tate into the fray. Chloe and Kay have known each other for decades, since they started school. They’ve come in and out of each other’s lives but have always been there for one another when it’s counted. UNLEASH sees Kay face up to a lot of truths about herself, her friends and the man she loves. It’s a conclusion to the trilogy which gives answers to all the questions and brings two people Chloe loves together, at last.

About Sarah:

Sarah Lynch has written for as long as she can remember. Writing was always going to be the job she did and after working in journalism, the birth of her first child encouraged her to finally take up her pen and try her hand at creative writing instead.

As S. M. Lynch, she pens science-fiction, and her UNITY series is currently in the process of being re-edited. As Sarah Michelle Lynch, she pens erotic romance, sometimes with thrilling, psychological elements added in. Her characters are real, add depth to beefy, mind-bending stories and ask questions of her readers she is too afraid to answer herself.

Sarah holds a degree in English from The University of Hull and now works as a proofreader and editor.

Watch the trailer:

ENTER the rafflecopter for a chance to win the WHOLE series signed:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Keep in touch with Sarah:

Twitter

Amazon

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Pinterest

Facebook

Website

CLICK COVERS TO BUY (UNBIND IS FREE TO DOWNLOAD THIS WEEK ONLY):

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ATTENTION authors and bloggers!!!

I’m going to give away a full, SIGNED SET, of The Sub Rosa Trilogy novels during my blog tour August 10th-14th. That’s UNBIND, UNFURL, UNLEASH, three paperbacks, all signed – competition open internationally. Five runner-ups will receive the full series as eBooks! Loads of material on offer!

This is going to be done via a Rafflecopter Giveaway. So AUTHORS and BOOK BLOGGERS, if you would like some likes for your facebook page, I will add your page to the “earn extra credits here” section in the rafflecopter. All I ask you do in exchange is post a little blog tour post on either your FB page or blog (it will be clean).

If you’d like to take part, just fill this in (it’s easy):

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/18nMdkvFiEazr3Yx642OSbJ-Sv0P1pJeecV0vyjUELlw/viewform

Some bloggers are adding reviews to the tour. It’s up to you whether you will have time to review before then. If you’d like to review, just get in touch smlpublishinguk@gmail.com

Thanks as always for all support.

❤ ❤

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