Saturday, 23 November 2013
I should SO post in here more often. I've not been posting anywhere often lately. Busy Busy. With a kid who turns 13 tomorrow, and Christmas just around the corner, real life is getting in the way big time. My Christmas decorations went up today and I'll try to post pictures if I every work out how to upload them from my phone without having to go via facebook all the time.
The hamsters and cats don't know what hit them. Well, mostly the cats because hamsters can't really get tangled in tinsel - not unless you put some in their cage, which we wouldn't.
It was a cold wintry day, very pretty but damn cold and I took my son to the big city for a day out with his sister and her girlfriend. My kids went to the theatre together, then were meeting up with said girlfriend (who is utterly adorable and I love) after. Normally. I would have been more than happy when she asked if I'd like to go for coffee while my children were in the theater, however.... Today, I hadn't thought I'd be getting out of the car - just drop him and run - therefore, I was wearing my pyjama top. Thankfully, I'd changed my trousers and was wearing jeans. Nevertheless I did have a bright pink fluffy top with a Scottie dog on the front. No one turned a hair.
Well, on the way home, I stopped for a KFC. I knew a review of my new book was up today and I was literally cacking myself. It was like waiting for exam results. Then...there it was, lurking in my inbox, the link I was waiting for. 'Should I open it now?' I asked myself, 'or should I wait until I get home to avoid the inevitable melt down and in restaurant sobbing if it was a bad review.
Literally shaking almost too much to tap the screen I opened the email, then followed the link to the site. My heart was pounding and the BBQ wrap was slowly oozing all over the table.
When I read the review, I tried hard not to cry, but failed.
Read it here
Sid Love's Blog
For a chance to win a copy head off here and leave a comment.
To buy the ebook go here or to Amazon
Thursday, 14 November 2013
Just got an awesome review from a reader and had to share it with you guys.
What a beautiful story. But so painful near the end i had tears running down my face I could hardly read the words on the screen. You truly have a unique and beautiful style of writing no matter what genre you write in. I think truthfully you are a Tally inside beautiful and brave and your writing shows that. I loved The two chapters at Uncle Colin's and i absolutely agree with Aces's description of him and Logan got away with murder his parents should have did a lot more to him other than "understand" him. Both boys were had been sheltered and hid away the difference was Ace's parents did the sheltering of Ace because of them being blind about their son and Haze was the one who hid himself away because of guilt and a deep sadness that he couldn't come to terms with. But they both came out into the sunshine first Ace then Haze, I actually think that Ace got the better of the deal and it was easier for him than Haze. A truly beautiful book it reminds me of those pictures you see that are tiny pictured that when you first look at it seems to be a jumble then turn the page, blur your vision just a bit and a whole different picture springs from the page. The story deals with abuse some physical, some mental and then you have the gay card thrown in but after sitting back wiping my tears the whole picture comes out and it was full of love. Many types if love, disabling love like Ace,'s parents had for him, the abusive feelings that Nick and Logan had, though Nick did grow up eventually. Then there was the adolescent love even childish love that Haze had with his childhood love, and finally the grownup romantic love that nurtured and strengthened Haze and Ace and allowed them to grow up and accept what they couldn't change and grab onto what they could. Sappy I know but it really was a very unique and beautiful story and so totally a "Nephy delight" to read. thank you and I will now add Cheryl Headford to my list of favourite authors to watch out for.
Saturday, 2 November 2013
There are those who can't see and those who don't want to, but we're all blind sometimes.
ISBN# 978-1-60820-8937 (print) $14.99
MLR-1-02013-0162 (ebook) $7.99
Release Date October 2013
Cover Artist Deana C. Jamroz
. 288 pages / 79,000 words
Available At: Featherweight Press (ebook)
Ace is blind and Haze is damaged. They live in different worlds and not everyone is happy when they become boyfriends. Haze is struggling with the after effects of a traumatic event in his past that has left him at the mercy of an uncontrollable rage. When Ace’s brother steps up his campaign of torment against Ace, they’re all in danger from Haze’s outbursts, though it isn’t until things get completely out of control that the healing can really begin. But with Ace unseeing and Haze perched on the edge of a cliff, will either of them survive long enough to benefit?
Excerpt One – Meeting Ace
I will never forget the first time I saw Ace Richmond, not as long as I live and probably beyond. He was sitting at the kitchen table, the chair pushed back and his long legs crossed at the ankle under the table. There was a plate of sandwiches in front of him and he was eating an apple. I saw none of that.
To say that I had ‘seen’ him through the window would have been like saying that I had seen the reflection of the moon on the surface of a still lake or the sun setting into the sea. Beautiful but only a pale shadow of the real thing.
Today he was wearing an acid green t-shirt with a pink elephant on the front that was somewhat jarring on the eyes, especially matched with the lurid pink tartan trousers and the large jewel encrusted sunglasses that were completely out of place. I had to blink twice to fully take them in. However, if his clothing was something of a shock it was nothing compared to the rest of him.
He had appeared slender and ephemeral from my standpoint below, thin and pale. Up close he was far more substantial. He was not so slender at all, although there was a certain grace in the way he was lounging in the chair that made him seem more willowy than he was.
He was pale; his skin almost translucent, like the white hair that cascaded over his shoulders and obscured half of his face. He was gorgeous too; far better looking than I had observed or imagined, but not in the fragile, fey way that I had thought. He was very substantial indeed. Weird in the clothing sense but lovely and…real.
Excerpt Two – Ninja
We had lunch in the same restaurant that we had the first time, and Nick was suitably impressed. Ace enthused about the menus, the food, how nice the waitresses were, and Nick watched him with a slightly bemused expression on his face.
That was nothing though to the expression he wore when we went down onto the beach and I had Ace doing cartwheels again.
“Bloody hell,” he murmured under his breath as we watched Ace’s wild abandon. I don’t think he was physically able to say any more. Ace literally took his breath away.
“He’s full of surprises, isn’t he?”
Nick nodded, unable to take his eyes away from his brother.
Eventually Ace stopped and stood still, turning his face to the sea breeze, and simply waited, quietly.
“What’s he doing now?”
“Waiting for what?”
I couldn’t help a giggle. “For us, of course. He has no idea where he is now.”
“Oh. I…I didn’t think. He must trust you a lot; just to stand and wait and not be scared.”
“Ace is never scared. He’s the bravest person I know.”
We were walking by then, and Nick fell silent. We hadn’t quite got to Ace when he said, “I wish I could see the sea.” There wasn’t any sadness in his voice, just a hint of wistfulness. “It feels so…big and wild.”
“It is.” I slipped my arm around his waist, and he rested his head on my shoulder.
“Mister… Mister…” At the sound of the breathless but excited voices, we turned and I saw two boys, about eleven years old, racing across the beach toward us.
“That was awesome,” one of them gasped as they skidded to a halt.
“Can you do it again? Can you teach us?”
“How did you do it? Are you an acrobat?”
“Or a ninja?”
Ace laughed and shook his head; he frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t know how I do it, not really. It just feels…right. I don’t know if I could teach anyone, because I don’t know what I do myself.”
“Aww, but we really want to learn.” His voice was so earnest that Nick and I exchanged glances and stifled giggles.
“Please, Mister, just tell us what you do.”
“I just… You need to find something inside that really wants to come out, that needs to be free, and then you just throw yourself at it and it takes you over.
“I learned how to trust my body and the space around me at school. We do a lot of martial arts and most of the flipping and stuff are just part of the moves.”
One of the boys turned to the other and said, “See? I told you he was a ninja.”
“Ninjas,” said the other one, “wear black and don’t look like that. He’s all white with funny eyes.” His eyes widened, and his face got an excited expression. “Maybe he’s from one of those secret organisations, like the White Dragons or something, like we saw in that film. Maybe he’s an assassin.”
“WOW, Mister. Are you really? Are you? Are you a secret assassin?”
The other boy hit him in the shoulder so hard he almost fell over. “If it’s a secret, he’s not going to tell you about it, is he?”
“Oh. Sorry, Mister.” He was subdued for a moment, with downcast eyes, scuffing the sand. Then he brightened up and with a sly expression on his face. “But are you? Are you really? I mean you can trust us, because we’re only kids so you know we’re not like…like from a rival gang or something.”
His friend rolled his eyes and sighed. “Sorry. He’s a bit thick. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us.” Ace was grinning as the boy dragged his friend away.
“Hehe, one day I’m an angel and the next a secret ninja assassin. Nice. I wonder what I’ll be tomorrow.”
I hugged him close. “Mine,” I said, and he giggled.
Cheryl was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.
Cheryl has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d explore the imaginary worlds she created, in play.
Later in life, Cheryl became the storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.
It was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.
In present times, Cheryl lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son and her two cats. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. The part of her that needs to earn money is a lawyer, but the deepest, and most important part of her is a storyteller and artist, and always will be.