, , , ,


Some of you–those in particular who have written been interviewed for it, weeks ago–may be wondering when this little item was going to reappear. The answer is tomorrow. It’s being brought out of wraps especially to help Charley Descoteaux and Aimee…watch me spell this correctly…Duffy, celebrate their forthcoming releases.

Yes Aimee, we know you haven’t been interviewed, calm doon lassie ( oh oh there’s me on about dogs again )lassie

BUT St. Polly Positive has been whizzing about a lot recently thanks to author, Sharon Struth, what better way than to prequel -big word- the hot seat character interviews with this amazingly brave post from Aimee Duffy? It’s all about how her forthcoming release nearly never came to be and why, if you want to be published, you should never, ever abandon hope.

                               ‘Publication is subjective.’


I loathe those words put together, especially when read in a form rejection email followed by…

‘Please keep us in mind for future projects’

And let me tell you something, no matter if you have a publishing contract with another book or are just starting out, those words sting like hell.

But what gnawed at my self-esteem the most was that these form rejection emails came after two rounds of revisions on the full from Harlequin, who ultimately felt the book still wasn’t right for the line I had targeted. Or so I had thought until the Rs started pouring in, then I had to ask myself if they were politely telling me it was crap.

Cue downward spiral. It took a while to find the optimism to send the wip out into the world. I love the story, and had to see this one published. it didn’t fit anywhere.rej

In fact, I was even entertaining the idea of self-publishing if it didn’t fit anywhere.

But nothing kills your spirit as much as the first form R, then the second, then a third. Luckily, the publisher I really wanted to sign with still had my submission, and wasn’t one of those who put out the Rs. I think I would have given up on the wip otherwise.

Even so, awful doubts started to creep in. I was questioning every word I typed, wondered if I should give up everything, not just on that one story, and how awful is that? But when no one shows enthusiasm about something you poured your heart and soul into it can get… well, depressing.


I have so much wonderful support from friends. They helped cheer me up and told me to hang in there. They also agreed that publishing is subjective and it only takes one person to love your story to help you get it out there in front of the world. I know this. The same thing happened with my first release, but it was such a long time ago I’d forgotten how I managed to stay sane.

A few weeks later I received an email from Harper Impulse. I don’t have auto-preview, and I really didn’t want to open the email. This was the one publisher I couldn’t bear to hear ‘no’ from. I was in such a crappy place and could hardly bring myself to read it.

makBut I did, and when I saw the editor wanted to call me that just cued more angst, along with a lot of cautious excitement.

But it turned out great. They loved my story, and wanted to sign it. Sinfully Summer is due out on 20th June. I’m so excited to be part of the team.

So, moral of the story is, those form R’s, though soul crushing, are true. Publishing is subjective. It doesn’t mean your story should never see the light of day, or that it won’t find a home. Hell it doesn’t even mean readers won’t enjoy it! It simply means your story isn’t right for that editor at that time.

Would have been lovely if they could say why it didn’t suit them. I know exactly how frustrating that is, but I also understand editors are busy. They get thousands of submissions and not all have the time to give feedback.

The only way you fail to be published is if you give up. Keep at it, and try to think of the glass half-full even when it feels almost empty and the water has gone all mouldy. It will be worth it in the end.

Huge thanks for the lovely Shehanne for letting me share my woes.

*                  *                *

The pleasure actually has all been mine. It only remains for me to tell you that our first guest Noelle Clark will be appearing in the chair tomorrow,  to explain to her character why she should be in her book. Oh! Of course I have to show you this fabulous pic of Aimee’s book. Congratulations  Aimee, way to go girl. May you happy dance on!aimee

Sinfully Summer Blurb

Sun, Sea and Scandal

Notorious heiress Alexa Green has certainly been enjoying her most recent girls-holiday in Marbella. Just as we thought, she’s been knocking back the cocktails and showing off her fabulous bikini body on the beach… but rumour has it she’s also been spotted sneaking out of Enrique Castillo’s penthouse in the early hours of this morning – in nothing but her underwear! Our question is, doesn’t this fiercely private billionaire know what he’s letting himself in for?

He’s got the millions… and she knows how to spend them! So lie back on your sun lounger and get comfortable, because this summer fling is going to be a sizzler!

Amazon US / Amazon UK / Google Play / Barnes & Noble


Adrenaline roared through her veins. This was her only chance. Pushing away from the wall, she rounded the lift, desperately seeking an escape. She barely noticed the plush furnishings, soft-looking leather sofas and floor to ceiling window which showcased the most spectacular view she’d ever seen. Instead she focused on the walls surrounding the elevator.

‘Are you lost?’

The heavily accented voice froze her to the spot. She darted a glance toward the sound. Dark brows furrowed over the richest coloured eyes she’d seen. His gaze swept over the length of her body, then up, lingering on her rear for a beat too long. Her skin tingled under his scrutiny.

Turning her whole body to face him, she slapped a hand on her hip. ‘Had a good enough look?’

His lips quirked in a sexy, lopsided grin. The jitters were back and Alexa swore the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees. Her gaze dropped to his broad shoulders, covered in a thin white t-shirt, then down to a well filled chest. She could see a dark pattern beneath the t-shirt. She longed to find out what kind of tattoo he had. Usually, tats didn’t do it for her. But on that body…

‘I could ask you the same thing.’

She snapped her attention back to his face. He stepped toward her, his jaw set, his eyes dancing with humour and something darker…something that made her blood heat and her mouth water.

Alexa raised her arm, palm out. ‘Hold it there, Mr. Any closer and I’ll scream.’

He paused by the sofa. Propping his hip against the cream leather, he folded his arms across his chest, causing the muscles to bulge. The moisture drained from her mouth and flooded in her belly.

‘No one’s here to hear you.’ He cocked a brow. ‘You seem to be forgetting where you are and,’ his gaze dipped down to her breasts causing the nipples to peak against the lacy fabric ‘how underdressed.’

Alexa thought this moment would have topped the blush scale. She planted her other hand on her hip and glared at him, unwilling to show any weakness. ‘I’m just leaving.’

She turned and strode back to the lift, keeping her back straight and trying not to wiggle her hips too much. The predatory sheen in his eyes made her body more jittery than the idea of sprinting around the lower floor in her underwear. She reached out to hit the button, but a large hand circled her wrist before she made it.

Alexa squeaked and darted back a step. He was so close, and his chest was right in her face. She could see the dark outline of the tattoo beneath the thin cotton. The outline of a burning sun, she thought, or something that looked like a sun. Her hands itched to lift the material and see for herself.

‘I’m up here.’

She snapped her gaze back up to his smirking face and took another step back. His lips kicked up at the corners and his eyes darkened. She swallowed against the urge to step closer, to feel his hard body pressed against hers. But she realised she was in little more than her bra and knickers in a stranger’s home. Unease skittered down her spine.

Alexa squared her shoulders, trying to quash the fear turning her heated blood into cold sludge. ‘I’m leaving now.’

‘After you explain what you’re doing in my home in your undergarments.’

Undergarments?’ Alexa pressed her lips together to keep a giggle at bay. ‘Seriously?’

About the Author

All my life I’ve been dreaming up stories. My mum said when I was little I used to make all the My Little Pony figurines talk to each other, and even fall in love. Later, it was Barbie and Ken. In my teens, I played matchmaker with my friends at school.

When I wasn’t creating imaginary scenarios, I had my nose stuck in books, reading across genres and there was one thing I loved more than the escapism—the fact a story can touch me so deeply, like I was experiencing everything along with my characters. I knew from early on this was something I wanted to do for others.

Fast forward a few years, and the dream almost got lost in real life, but I still couldn’t shake it completely. Now I write sizzling romance with the hope of making my readers’ hearts race like they are falling in love for the first time.

You can find me here:

Website/Blog / Twitter / Facebook / Goodreads / Pinterest / Google +