Hi Guys,

Rhonda Hopkins invited me on her blog today to participate in her Authors Give Back Tuesday.

The subject we’re talking about today is very close to my heart, The Dr. Susan Love Foundation, breast cancer, and in particular prevention.  The number of women, especially young women under thirty five being diagnosed with the disease is on the increase. So this is a call to arms to all women, no matter how old and to their husbands and partners, to be vigilant.

You never know, what you read today just might save the life of the one you adore and who’s at the centre of your life.

What better gift of love to give her?

Please join Rhonda and I at her blog to help spread the word.

We need all the help we can get! Did I tell you that you guys seriously rock?


Since that amazing moment over a year ago when Pippa Middleton’s bottom went planetary, I’ve found myself inspecting the derrieres of everyone from the postman to the guy in Starbucks to the girl at the check out in the supermarket.

What makes a great one? What characterizes Pippa’s bottom – lovely though it is, especially in that dress – from the butts of the average person?

And I’m not being critical here but men appear to be the ones drooling over PM’s posterior more than women. Do they prefer a muscle-butt rather than something more substantial? Is this what they’re looking for in their perfect partner? Don’t they prefer something curvy that could sit on a knee and not leave a crease?

A bottom, like a breast and a narrow waist is a symbol of fertility in a woman, and over millenia men have been attracted to plenteous, competent, well-disposed buttocks; buttocks that can do the job nature intended.

While pondering the meaning of this – in one of those moments when I should be editing and coming up with a brilliant blurb for my new book – it occurred to me that what women want from their own bottom is very different to the expectations placed upon it by a man. Not that I’ve a great deal of experience (she says), but men appear to prefer a handful, something to grope pinch, perhaps something with a jiggle, and a big spoonful of lurve, women, as ever and how pathetic are we, want something skinny.

We want a bum that can wear skinny jeans without trying to burst forth and break loose. A bum that rocks a bikini bottom. A bum that ‘never looks big’ in this. We want peachy and lifted and taut.

If I could choose my bum, I’d want Brooklyn Decker’s bottom which is as close to perfection as you can imagine without belonging to the prestidigitization of the airbrush. It’s pert, high and powerful.

In the interests of understanding my subject, I asked my girlfriends if they liked their bums and NOT ONE said they did. One or two liked their feet, hands, their boobs or their hair, but every single one hated her bottom. And I know three of them said they sobbed in changing rooms with those God awful surround mirrors when they saw their bum. I even know some who wear tops that cover their bum in the sea or in a swimming pool.

I have a flat bum, it used to be toned and pert, but due to the number of hours it’s perched in my chair as I type like a fiend my next best-seller (I can dream) I’m afraid it’s let me down very badly and is an extraterrestrial to me now. If I happen coup d’oeil, usually by accident, I’m always sincerely shocked, certain it must belong to someone else and then I hit the lunges and squats for a week, which means I can’t sit down without whimpering in agony.

So to sum up, women are not happy with what they’ve got and men are more than happy with whatever they can get.

Does this mean that men (for once) are right? They love Pippa’s bum simply because it belongs to a woman?

Hugo’s just yelled, ‘Result!’ Hmm, might need to inflict pain on him later.

You know I adore and need to hear from you guys – Do you love your bum? If you’re a guy do you love your honey’s bum and if so what does it for you?

We need to know!

Due to a book launch, guesting on a blog and being driven insane by the foibles of my new shiny Mac! Desert Orchid is late this week – normal service shall be resumed as soon as possible. (Hugo’s just posted a note above my Mac – THIS MACHINE HAS NO BRAIN – USE YOUR OWN! I feel a D.I.V.O.R.C.E. coming on!)

Oh and on Monday my book, Reckless Nights In Rome is here – one of fifteen chosen, all sales on Amazon on MONDAY 16TH JULY 2012 shall be donated to the ‘Sell Books For Steve Day’ for thriller author Steve Brown’s Bone Marrow Transplant treatment. You might find a new author you like! Please spread the word around the ‘net on Monday – you guys seriously rock!


Hello guys,

You know I’m a vocal proponent for equal opportunities and freedom of choice for females and males actually. But, seriously, sometimes I really do despair of some women today.

A few weeks ago a couple of my writing buddies, August McLachlan and Ginger Calem mentioned a weird and spooky trend among brides to be for ‘the drip diet’.

Called the ‘K-E’ diet it involves 800 calories being dripped into a feeding tube inserted up the nose. The idea being that if food bypasses the mouth and throat you can drop a dress size in ten days.

Apparently a bride, Jessica Schnaider went on the diet for ten days before her big day to lose weight. The flawed thinking behind the idea is that she’d look wonderful for her new husband and look good in her wedding pictures. This in my opinion meant the bride had totally missed the point of getting married in the first place. You’ve got to live with your husband for the rest of your life. And my wedding album has at various times lived quite happily at the bottom of a cupboard or in a box under the bed with all the other ‘important stuff.’

But this story, as a mother of two daughters, really pressed my hot button. I vented on August and Ginger’s blogs and left it at that.

Anyway, I thought that was as low as a poor deluded bride and certain high profile celebrities were prepared to go until I heard of this new tender morsel of lunacy. Have you heard of ‘bridalplasty’? Brides are now spending more on Botox, breast implants (don’t get me started on my mastectomy) and ‘hand-lifts’ for close up wedding pictures of the wedding rings and cutting the wedding cake. It’s made me wonder if their husbands are not expected to be a long term feature in the lives of these women? Perhaps they’re just for photographs? Or will they too end up under the bed with ‘important stuff’?

I don’t know whether to sob or spit nails. What the hell does this say about us as women? What message does it give to our daughters? Just today I saw in the news that schools in the UK are showing girls as young as seven a film of how their favourite actresses and models (males and females) are touched up, their flaws airbrushed out and perfection brushed in, by advertising companies and magazines. Woo Hoo! At last.

But then, have we made a rod for our own backs? I’m not dipping my big toe into politics. I don’t have an opinion. BUT. Remember Secretary Hillary Clinton dared to attend a meeting wearing glasses with her hair in a ponytail and no make-up? I remember thinking, ‘very brave, good for you’ but others savaged her for it. The press were more interested in that than babies being blown to bits.

She tore herself away from dealing with death and despair and said, ‘If I want to wear my hair back I’m pulling my hair back. At some point it’s just not something that deserves a lot of time or attention.’

You go, Hillary, babe.

Come on, girls, gird your loins and tell me right now how can we help those poor deluded brides?

Is a man just for the big day or for life?

What do you believe marriage is all about in 2012?

And give a big cheer right here and now on Fizz & Fangs for H.C.

I know I have been uncharacteristically quiet but I’m writing and editing two books at the same time. Good job the Editor has a sense of humour!

Chapter thirteen of Desert Orchid was put up and pulled down due to a technical glitch by me. But it’s back now. I’m on the home straight with it. Just about to turn the screw on Khalid in the next few chapters. Bless him. Enjoy!