Today I’m revealing the cover of my novel, Lyrics for the Loved Ones, which will be published on May 15th. As the novel is set mostly in a UK care home during the pandemic, I thought the anniversary of the first lockdown would be the perfect occasion to show off the gorgeous design.
Click the link below for a larger view of the cover. The e-book is also available to preorder via this link
Preorder Lyrics for the Loved Ones
or you can try your luck and see if you can win a copy on one of these fabulous book blogs
Between the Lines
Literary Flits
Preorder Lyrics for the Loved Ones
or you can try your luck and see if you can win a copy on one of these fabulous book blogs
Between the Lines
Literary Flits
After half a century confined in a psychiatric hospital, Matty has moved to a care home on the Cumbrian coast. Next year, she’ll be a hundred, and she intends to celebrate in style. Yet, before she can make the arrangements, her ‘maid’ goes missing.
Irene, a care assistant, aims to surprise Matty with a birthday visit from the child she gave up for adoption as a young woman. But, when lockdown shuts the care-home doors, all plans are put on hold.
But Matty won’t be beaten. At least not until the Black Lives Matter protests burst her bubble and buried secrets come to light.
Will she survive to a hundred? Will she see her ‘maid’ again? Will she meet her long-lost child?
Rooted in injustice, balanced with humour, this is a bittersweet story of reckoning with hidden histories in cloistered times.
Irene, a care assistant, aims to surprise Matty with a birthday visit from the child she gave up for adoption as a young woman. But, when lockdown shuts the care-home doors, all plans are put on hold.
But Matty won’t be beaten. At least not until the Black Lives Matter protests burst her bubble and buried secrets come to light.
Will she survive to a hundred? Will she see her ‘maid’ again? Will she meet her long-lost child?
Rooted in injustice, balanced with humour, this is a bittersweet story of reckoning with hidden histories in cloistered times.
 | I wasn’t sure how I’d pair this post with this week’s flash fiction prompt: shots fired. Although there are dark episodes and a couple of deaths in the novel, no shots are fired as far as I can recall. (Not that it isn’t chiselled onto my brain from the number of times I’ve had to read it recently!) Then I heard on the news this morning about a spring Covid vaccination booster being released for those who are extremely clinically vulnerable, so I’ll soon be queueing up for mine. That’s a kind of shot, isn’t it? |
Although Lyrics for the Loved Ones is set before we had a vaccine, I have drafted some scenes for a possible sequel that includes the immunisation rollout. In one, Clem, trying to get her life back after government-sanctioned injustice, becomes a vaccination volunteer. You might remember her from a previous 99-word story when she has to garner her courage to apply for the training.
Shots fired into white skin
Clem prepares the needle. The man removes his jacket and thrusts a Union Jack tattoo in her face. Bile sours her throat like love betrayed. Yet, silently, she chuckles. “You realise it’s upside down?”
“Bollocks.”
“People assume it’s symmetrical.” She points a blue-gloved finger along the left-to-right diagonal stripe. “The white should be thicker at the top.”
The syringe approaches his frescoed skin. “Sharp scratch.” Quick in and out, the instructor taught her. Dithering hurts more. She jiggles the needle slowly into the muscle and slaps a flesh-coloured plaster over the puncture wound. A dark-brown dot enhancing the flag.
Clem prepares the needle. The man removes his jacket and thrusts a Union Jack tattoo in her face. Bile sours her throat like love betrayed. Yet, silently, she chuckles. “You realise it’s upside down?”
“Bollocks.”
“People assume it’s symmetrical.” She points a blue-gloved finger along the left-to-right diagonal stripe. “The white should be thicker at the top.”
The syringe approaches his frescoed skin. “Sharp scratch.” Quick in and out, the instructor taught her. Dithering hurts more. She jiggles the needle slowly into the muscle and slaps a flesh-coloured plaster over the puncture wound. A dark-brown dot enhancing the flag.
RSS Feed
