Four Letter Words is due to be published in January / February 2014! I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since Seven Dirty Words came out, and the sequel will be in print soon. It’s scary to think how much my life has changed since last January – I’ve been featured on several blogs, two newspapers and been on local radio, as well as having been an official author at the Festival of Romance. And it’s only set to get busier, already signed up for a blog-spot in February and signed up for Smut by the Sea in June.
I will admit to being nervous about the second installment of Paige Holmes’ story being read. I had a lot of feedback regarding the ending to Seven Dirty Words, and I only hope that my readers will understand why Four Letter Words ends the way it does. I don’t want to give away too much but I will say that everyone gets what they truly deserve, and some characters get their Happily Ever After.
A couple of minor characters from SDW make more of an appearance in FLW, for example Lou, Paige’s best friend and rugby team captain, is featured throughout the book. There’s also a couple of new minor characters for you to meet!
I’m afraid that poor Paige does have to suffer a little bit more though. I know quite a few of you thought that she had been through more than enough in the first book, but the story hasn’t finished yet and she hasn’t come to terms with her demons. But don’t worry, everything happens for a reason as you will find out.
I have loved working with Paige, Matt, and of course Vance “TDS” Ellery. Many have asked if there will be a third book, but as you will find out there is not much more I could do with these characters. I hope that you all get the resolution you want, and that you enjoy reading the books as much as I enjoyed writing them. Before I go, here’s a short (unedited) extract from Four Letter Words:
I contemplated calling him. I wondered how long I had before he flew to New York and I never saw him again. But each time I dialled in his number, something stopped me.
Walking down the street, smashed pumpkins of Halloween still sat on several doorsteps, adding to the festering smell of rotting leaves and fruit. The snow had not arrived yet, but the frost and ice settled each morning. I pulled my arms around me in a desperate attempt at maintaining my body temperature, clutching a pile of invitations to be delivered. I didn’t see the need for them to be honest. I’d already posted those silly ‘save the date’ cards out, so everyone knew when and where the Christmas party was going to be. But Mum had insisted that we formally invite the guests. Most had already RSVP’d, making the act of handing out invitations even more ridiculous in my mind.
I posted them through the doors, one by one. Each time I went around a corner, I couldn’t help but get the strange notion that someone was watching me again. As I stepped down into a small no-through road, I stopped and swung round, expecting to be confronted by a journalist or one of Vance Ellery’s hired guards. But nobody was there.
“Getting paranoid,” I chided myself. The heels of my boots clicked and clacked on the stone pavement. My shadow disappeared as the sky threatened to open with yet more rain. “Great,” I grumbled, pulling my hood up and stuffing the envelopes inside my jacket. I only had a handful left. Posting the last one of that street, I turned with my head down and made my way back to the main road.
The ghosts that haunted continued to follow me as I dropped the last invitations through the letterboxes. “Should have just posted them,” I said to myself. I was nervous at being so alone. The memory of being hounded by a journalist was still too fresh in my memory. Along with the unease I’d felt of late anyway…
I arrived home, and pushed the door open. Something shifted across the floor. I bent down to pick the envelope up, and noticed the lack of postage stamp. My name had been hand-written in thick black ink across the plain side, each letter a capital. I tapped it against my fingers as I went into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. A cup of tea was needed to take away the chill of winter.
Sitting down at the table I opened the letter, wondering who could have sent it. There was a single sheet of paper, and a photograph inside. It was a grainy picture, one that looked as though it had come from a security camera. Despite the lack of quality, I could still see that it was of myself and TDS, heading into Richart Courts. My brows furrowed in confusion, until I read the accompanying letter.
It was written in the same print as the envelope. Huge, thick black letters, scratched into the hammered white paper.
NO ONE WHO TELLS LIES IN COURT CAN ESCAPE PUNISHMENT; SHE IS DOOMED.