The hedgehog has been back, every night, and we’ve decided he must be able to squeeze himself under the gate. I try to watch for him to leave but always I miss him. At the moment he’s foraging in the shrubbery and my DH is keeping watch.
But now, forget the hedgehog, forget the nail biting final of Britain's Got Talent on Saturday night, forget the scorching weather here in the UK.
To celebrate the publication in July of my 75th book – The Santorini Marriage Bargain – each week for the next four weeks I’ll be putting the names of every commenter into a hat. The first one to be drawn out by my DH will win their very own copy of this special book.
And…
Everyone else will receive a bookmark if you email me your address with the word Santorini in the subject line.
To entice you this is the first page:
Rhianne heard the screech of brakes before she saw the car. By then it was too late. Lost in her own world of misery she had not thought to look before she stepped off the pavement. Urged on by the front fender of the car she spun across the road and for a few moments lay curled in blessed silence. It was as though everything in the whole world had stopped. No traffic noise, no voices, no birds singing. Nothing except a strange calm. She wasn’t even hurting.
Then came the voice. A deep, gruff male voice. ‘Why the hell didn’t you look where you were going?’
Why the hell didn’t she look? Rhianne struggled to turn her head and glare at the owner of the voice. He was clearly the man who had knocked her down. Beyond him was his car with the door still open, the engine still running. ‘Why didn’t I look?’ Her tone matched his for hardness. And why shouldn’t it when he was behaving as though she was the one at fault. ‘Why the hell didn’t you look? Call yourself a driver. This is a busy main road. You should have had your wits about you.’
‘Are you hurt?’
The belated question angered her still further. She closed her eyes needing to shut out the handsome face that had come a little too close. The man was on his haunches now, peering at her, making her feel like an insect under a microscope.
‘Hello. Can you hear me?’
So he thought she’d passed out! Rhianne snapped her eyes open again and scrambled to her feet. She felt wobbly but nothing appeared to be broken. At least she didn’t think so. Her legs still held her up and she could move her arms. Her hip felt a little sore and she guessed she’d be bruised tomorrow, but other than that she was OK.
No thanks to Mr Fast Car Driver.
I'm so glad you've found my blog! This is where I share what's going in my life, and where you'll usually find the most up-to-date information on my latest releases. For more detailed information on my books, check out my backlist. And be sure to check out my contest page so you don't miss out!
