Closed. The boat sank, the sharks won.

Check out the link Here.

Yes, that’s MY book, the book I wrote! You can either get it from Lulu direct or use the link on the right and I’ll place the orders, sign the books here and send them on to you. The price on the buttons is exactly the same as the price (with UK shipping added in) as the price you pay on Lulu. Please note - shipping is only included for the UK as that’s where I am.

Entirely up to you.  

I can’t sign downloads though….. 

Sneaky peek?

Kate took a deep steadying breath and approached the old oak. There was a stump in front of it where she and Sam had used to take the children for picnics.

She stood for a moment and gazed up at the enormous, ancient tree and wondered if it could really be a place that held a gateway to another world. Then she knelt to place the candle in the centre of the stump. She lit it and carefully arranged the photos and pendant around it. On impulse she took some fallen leaves and arranged them too. Then she took back her favourite of the selection of photos and tucked it into her pocket. She thought for a moment and then stood and addressed the tree, feeling more than a little silly.

“I have no idea why I’m doing this.” She began, “But I do know I want my best friend back. I want Tom and Susan to have their Mother back please and if there is any way that can happen … well…… it’d be the best thing for all of us. I don’t know if there are special words to say or whether I have to hug you or something, but I’m here for Sam, lighting the way like she asked. I only hope it’s enough.” She reached out to touch the deeply creased bark and pulled back her hand, hesitant to hope and feeling distinctly daft she checked her watch by the light of the flickering candle. 11.55.

She took a long look at Sam’s laughing face in the photo in her jacket pocket, reached out again. Her hand just kept on going as if the tree wasn’t there. She pulled it back, tried again. It was like a film special effect, her hand went straight into the tree, but it felt like there was nothing there. She flicked on the torch for a better look, but the damn thing flared and died. She shook it, banged it against her leg, tried again, nothing. Heart pounding harder now she stepped away from the tree but couldn’t take her eyes from its dark bulk. It was just a tree, and a familiar one at that, her initials and Sam’s were carved on it, but somehow it became menacing in the dark. It was midnight, in the oldest local woods, said to be haunted, on Hallowe’en. Kate would have laughed if she’d not been so terrified. She’d discussed this with Sam, almost crying with laughter, in horror films why do they always go to the woods? Why do they open the door? This was the place and time the main character should not be. Certain death was usually on its way and she might just escape by the skin of her teeth. Then Kate heard the voices.

The lovely Witchy Woo is making me think again!

….40 times a day ?? Men couldn’t do 40 times a day could they?

That post refers to this one.  The video linked to is well worth watching but isn’t nice, could be upsetting - you’ve been warned.

But 40 different men can do it once a day right? That’s more men than I actually know, including my own 7 yr old and a number of male children - to make up the numbers you know.

Shit that’s loads. And it’s a different 40 the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. These are people with families, they are your fathers, husbands, partners, friends, sons, uncles etc. This is the guy next door who offers to cut your lawn or help with that bit of broken fence.

This is BIG. That made me blink and go *woah - that’s put a scale on it that I hadn’t let myself think about.* You know that bit in Jaws where the sheriff bloke sees the shark for the first time and says "We’re gonna need a bigger boat." You got it.

Can you think of 40 men? Do you know 40 men? Can you imagine *servicing* them all, every day? Can you imagine knowing you have to do it all again tomorrow, but this time they’re sending a friend in their place? No? OK, imagine your daughter doing that? Or your sister? Or your friend? How about one of them has a stag party and wants you to *do* everyone there?

Horrendous isn’t it? But it’s life for so many women, a large number barely legally adult, some of them not legally adult. Think about it.

I’ve been put into a pool of people to possibly be interviewed by a glossy mag (can’t say who! Not allowed.)

to interview three women (preferably glamorous and between the ages of 24-45!) who have stepped off the career ladder to set up successful businesses tailored to the way they and other women like (need/want) to work.

Between 24 and 45 - yes; stepped off a career ladder - yes. Successful business? Depends on your definition of success really. As for Glamorous. Why would a business woman have to be glamorous? And what is glamorous anyway?

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1) glam·our  –noun

1.	the quality of fascinating, alluring, or attracting, esp. by a combination of charm and good looks.

2.	excitement, adventure, and unusual activity: the glamour of being an explorer.

3.	magic or enchantment; spell; witchery.

–adjective

4.	suggestive or full of glamour; glamorous: a glamour job in television; glamour stocks.

Also, glamor.

---

[Origin: 1710–20; earlier glammar, in sense of occult learning]

(red and bold is my addition) That was what I was thinking, to cast a glamour, to project a false image, to fool, to trick. To present yourself as you are not. I hear women friends talk about "Putting a face on" when applying makeup. It’s all a mask isn’t it? It’s the real world equivalent of Dracula casting a Glamour to entrance his victims.

Then I am definitely not glamorous. I don’t project anything but me, what you see is what you get. It’s the way I am and the way I do business - transparent.

Besides how can a woman call herself Glamorous when faced with pages full of artificial, patriarchal beauty standards? Every time a child turns on the TV it’s populated by homunculi distorted by those standards, with swollen lips, over large eyes, enormous breasts and not a body hair in sight apart from the carefully sculpted lock on her head. Oh and don’t forget dangerously thin too.

*sigh*

Someone just sent me this link. Mamamojo. Scroll down through the pictures, then read the comments.

Which would you rather see? Which would you rather your children saw?  

I’ve been awarded BT Tradespacer of the Week.

Because:

Quote: Not only is she selling a particularly ethical product, she also displays a very human side to her business through her posts.

I like that, that made me grin! Who’da thunk, I’m human after all.

New business idea coming along nicely but I can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you!   Promise, I’ll post it up here as soon as we launch properly, maybe even a bit before so you can have a sneaky peek.

2,000 Euros.

…forced to have sex and faced ice-cold baths, starvation and beatings if she did not do as she was told.

Aged 12 she ran away from her home in Albania and forced into prostitution in Germany. She ended up feeling suicidal and was eventually *rescued* in a police raid.

"Sometimes you think you will kill yourself or try to run away. If they catch you, it’s the worst thing."

Yet now she faces extradition back to Albania where she is terrified the whole pattern will begin again but this time she is older. At 20 and scarred she won’t be as valuable, won’t bring in as much money. She doesn’t want to go back and who can blame her.

However, Home Secretary Jacqui Smith has said she could not give any guarantees that victims would not be deported after being rescued.

So Anna get’s forced into prostitution, ends up in the UK, is *rescued* and will now be forced to go back and probably end up back where she started.  How is that right? How exactly does that help? Anna is one of thousands of trafficked women in the UK, one of who knows how many British women trapped in prostitution. Then they get arrested and prosecuted for soliciting and that is so very wrong too. These women don’t need to be dragged through the courts, they need help, support to get out and live. How can we live in a society that tolerates encourages men to pay to rape? Would we be better embracing the Swedish idea?

...essentially, doesn’t criminalise marginalised women for prostituting themselves, instead it criminalises the men who pay to rape.

Sounds ideal to me. It’s the men who have the choice and the power here. They choose to rape and abuse these women, they can choose not to. Or the Italian model?

Italy is considering imposing on-the-spot fines on prostitutes’ clients, the interior minister says.

Giulio Amato also revealed plans to serve legal papers in clients’ homes in order to shame them.

Embarrassment would work. Sweden and Norway have penalties of up to 6 months in jail for the men caught although sadly few are convicted and most get a fine rather than a jail term.