Book Tour: Set My Soul On Fire by Celia ~ Excerpt ~ Author Interview (including a sneak peek of Celia's next project) !!!

Set My Soul On Fire by Celia Blog Tour

Virtual Book Tour Dates: 11/6/13 – 11/13/13

Fiction, Romantic Fiction, Romance, Love Story, Modern Romance, Sexy Romance


Divorced Francine was a naïve young virgin when she first met her ex-husband.  After a passionless, controlling marriage, where she lost her dreams and herself, she feels old and inadequate.  Concentrating on her future, she craves a different life that will make her feel alive and set her soul on fire.  Now free to pursue her dreams, a challenging idea emerges and an unexpected change of fortune takes her into a new world, where the last thing on her list is a man or love….or is it?

Awarded best autumn read 2012 by ‘Modern Romance’



On Friday evening, we took Samuel to Dominic’s music night; it was awesome like last time and when Dominic glanced at me, I went all prickly and I constantly wondered what making love to him would be like.  When he went into his wiggle act, I felt my insides clinch.  I was like a dog on heat for goodness sake; I couldn’t stop feeling randy; my thoughts got worse.  Next morning we again went down to the restaurant for lunch; Dominic had invited us all, but mostly Samuel, to try his brother, Michael’s, famous oysters cooked the Dominic way…. which were delicious.  I wondered if they did what legend said they did.  I certainly would have jumped in bed with Dominic, if he had asked; right that very moment to see if they did and even considered it for a moment!
                “You should market your concert evenings; they would go down a storm in America,” Samuel said, lying back in his chair full to the brim.  “Last night was terrific; never heard such music.”
                Dominic laughed, “Michael and I have already ‘marketed’ ourselves in America and here in France; what do you say?…very popular, we have records and things.  We really need a good video made; but Michael is reluctant to travel anymore.  When my papa was alive we did the rounds of concerts; tours can get tiresome.”
                “You’re a sort of pop star then?”  Sharon asked.
                Dominic smirked, “Sort of, but not exactly pop, and we could do with some updating; like I said, a music video with a new music album would be good.”
                “Why don’t you do it Francine?”  Sharon said; then without waiting for a reply she turned to Dominic, “You could do it right here then.  No travelling: you could record in the restaurant or they must have a recording studio near.  Francine takes wicked photos and she has filmed two television programmes.  I expect they’re brilliant too.  We are expecting them to send the pre-view of the programmes any day now aren’t we?”
We are!  I just nodded; who needed a PR when they had Sharon.  I adored her, her generous nature and bubbly happiness.
                Dominic gazed at me; I melted inside.  “Would you consider making a video for me?”
                I nodded, “Yes, it would be exciting.”  As long as I could concentrate on what I was doing when he danced.
“I’ll ask Michael then.  When could you start?  I have to go to Paris in a couple of weeks to try to persuade the French television network that they would like my new archaeology undersea programme, so I am trying to work on that.  ”
“What’s the new programme called?”  Samuel asked.
“Archaeology Under The Sea.”
“What a naff title,” I said without thinking.
“Naff …?”  Dominic enquired.
I paled, oh cricks.
Sharon came to my rescue, didn’t she always?  “Means uninspired; you should get Francine to come up with another one; she’s brilliant at marketing and putting together ‘a package pitch’ too.”
Nadine jumped at that; until then, she had sat quietly listening.  “He could do with some help.  What do you suggest?” she said looking at me.
“Well tell me what the programme is about,” I said uneasily, turning to Dominic.
Suddenly Dominic looked shy; he was not the kind of man to blow his own trumpet, I realized; after all I didn’t know he had made music albums.  I would look him up on the Internet when I got home.
 “It is about underwater cities that have slipped into the sea and maybe seeking and finding some gold and some doubloons,” he threw a grin at Nadine.  Her eyes narrowed, as she looked him straight in the eyes.
I roared with laughter at the pair, but it gave me an idea.  “How about “Lost Cities and Mysteries of the Deep”?”
“Mmm, you are not just beautiful you are brilliant too; it gives a whole different vision.  Even I can see how that is not ‘naff.’”  Dominic said.
I continued, “The programme could have a pirate theme.  You could dress as a pirate and...”
“No change there then,” Nadine interrupted me.
“ could give a narrative as if you were the pirate searching for treasure, with some true pirate stories; it will inject some humour; people like to laugh and history stories are interesting, and the wickeder the story the better.  Then you could have some underwater shots of some of your diving crew doing some piratey things.  Lost cities can be woven into the period of a certain pirate.  Pirates have always existed in all decades.  And of course you could follow it all up with a book.”
 I saw the amazement spread right across Dominic’s face.  ”I think that is more than inspired,” he lent forward and kissed me.  “A book though, I’m no good at writing.”
Sharon said, “Oh Francine could do that, as well as the filming.”
I gave a quick uncomfortable glance at Dominic; he might get upset at me taking over his idea.  Ben would have, if he had ever come up with one in the first place.
However, Dominic just grinned, “Yes that would be great.  We could start our own consultancy, production and publishing company.”
Oh no!  - I’ve been there, done that; I am not going there again, as Chloe said where did it get me in the past?  
Dominic saw my downcast features.  “I could put up the money.”
“It’s not the money.  I went into business, or so I thought, with Ben.  I do not intend to be somebody’s ‘partner’ ever again, in a company or otherwise…in any way.  Thanks.”  My lip tightened as I glared at him.  This had been his intention all along.  I was that unlovable.  He was just as charming as Ben; he had me charmed!  That’s why he has been so nice all week!  He had certainly not left me alone for long to think; every day I had seen him, but maybe I had not ‘seen’ him at all.
Dominic said quietly, “I am not Ben.”
No, he was not, but how did I know he wasn’t as deceitful as Ben.  How did I know if he was scheming like Ben and wanting his own way and nasty if he didn’t get it?  I wanted to burst into tears.  Instead, I stood up.  “If you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time for me to go home.”
There was an awkward silence.  Dominic looked as angry as I felt, his brown eyes as dark as black holes; then without a word he picked up some dirty crockery and took it into the kitchen.  Nadine kissed the three of us goodbye and we murmured our thanks and went silently out to the car.
“If you ask me,” Sharon began.
“I didn’t.”
I saw Samuel nudge Sharon to be quiet in the mirror.  How could I be so rude to her?  “Sorry,” I stopped the car with a screech, like my heart was doing, tears blurring my vision. 
Samuel got out of the passenger side, “Get in the back with Sharon,” he ordered and I meekly did as he said. 
Sharon put her arms about me, holding me like a child.  Through gritted teeth, she said,” Oh that Ben has a lot to answer for.  He’s ruling your life, even from a distance.”
“No, he isn’t,” I sobbed.
“What do you call this then?  You trust me don’t you?”  I nodded.  “Well Dominic is nothing like Ben.  All he wants to do is make you happy; Ben never cared about your happiness, only his own; can’t you see that?”
 How did Sharon know what Dominic is like?  “I could turn Dominic into Ben; he could find me boring and…and unlovable, just like Ben found me and Giles didn’t love me enough either.”  One knock and my self-esteem was at rock bottom again.
“Oh don’t talk rubbish,” Samuel burst out.  “There’s nothing wrong with you; you’re not unlovable; you are clever and lovely.  It’s Ben that has a problem, not you.  Ben is an arsehole; he has talent at drawing but he is not clever like you and he knew it.  He put you down because he always saw you as competition because of his own inadequacies.  Moreover, for my money Dominic is twice the man Ben is.  For goodness sake woman you have really hurt him, comparing him to Ben.”
Sharon gave me a squeeze; “I think you should phone him when we get in.”
“Suppose he doesn’t want to talk to me and doesn’t want to know me now?”
“Then you would be right and we would be wrong,” Samuel said.
When we got in, I poured myself a glass of wine; I needed some courage before I phoned… if I could phone.  The drink didn’t do any good, maybe another!  Thoughts began to swirl round my head like a tornado.  Did I want Dominic?  Yes I lusted after him, but he also made me laugh; he loved swimming and diving like me; he cooked for goodness sake too; we had a lot in common, and his kisses made me tingle in places I didn’t know could tingle.  I’m not sure I can phone, suppose he won’t talk to me.  Well it would settle this agony in my heart.  Then Sharon, fed up with watching my miserable face, handed me the phone, her mouth set.  I could see she would not take no for an answer.  It rang for a long while and the butterflies in my stomach were nearly making me sick.  I went to put it down but Sharon wouldn’t let me; then Nadine answered.
“Ah Nadine is your father there please?”
“No - he is coming to see you.  He is very upset Francine, he adores you; he is a good man.  You are the first woman I have ever seen him interested in.  If you don’t like him, please tell him.  I don’t want you to break his heart.”
“Yes, I’m sorry Nadine; I have some unresolved past issues.”
“I understand, but my father would not hurt you or anyone he cares about ever and he cares for you, so you remember that please.”
I felt very humble; Nadine was rightly angry I could hear it in her voice, let alone her words.  Sharon was correct: Ben had done me damage, but I wasn’t going to let him spoil any more of my life.  After all surely there were not many men like Ben, were there?  I thought of my father, I thought of Giles, both faithful men that cherished their wives, Giles even after his wife was dead; and then there was Samuel, and Dominic said he had been faithful to his wife too.
When Dominic arrived, we strolled down to the beach and sat looking at the sea rippling gently against our toes, silence between us.
Someone had to talk first and I guess it should be me.
“Look…”  I began.
“Listen…”  Dominic said.
Next, he reached for my hand as I muttered “sorry.”
“I don’t want you to set up a company or anything you don’t want to do with me.  I just thought maybe your son might like it and would come and join you here; a spur of the moment idea that was all.  A silly one, but I can assure you that I would never cheat you out of anything, ever, or cheat on you now or in the future, whatever happened between us.  It is not in my nature.  I don’t need any of your money or scheme to get hold of it; I have plenty, but I need you to trust me or we have nothing together.  What I say to you will always be the truth; I don’t lie.  I know you are still in pain but please do not insult me again by suggesting I am anything like that ex of yours.  He only has my contempt for what he has done to you.”
Tears were trickling down my face; I felt so awful.  “I have some baggage I thought I had got rid of.  I am so very, very sorry.  It was a kind thought on your part and I just over reacted.  I never told you, because I felt ashamed; I thought there was something wrong with me, but Lucy was not the only girl; Ben cheated on me throughout our marriage.  He hit on all my friends and even my daughter’s best friend.  I was so stupid and busy and I trusted him and never knew.  I worked hard for him for twenty odd years.  Now I’m afraid to trust men properly.  Also, I have discovered I like my independence and especially my own financial independence and I don’t need a man for that; and I have no intention to re-marry.  I made up my mind that I will only work when I want, and on what I want to.”  There, I’d said it.
He shook his head and gave a deep sigh, gathering me to him and kissed me gently on the lips, then kissed my eyelids and my face and salty tears.  ”Stop crying, I can’t bare it.  I only want to make you happy and heal that hole in you.”  Which made me worse; he just held me, kissing and stroking my hair.
“You still want to know me?”  I eventually said, wiping my tears.
“Very much, but do you want to have a proper relationship?  I know it has only been just over a week since we met, but this is no casual fling for me.”
 I nodded.
 “That’s more like it.  Do you want to make this video for me?”
“As long as you are sure.  Will you also do some of the diving and filming for my programme?”
I smirked, “It depends where you’re planning on diving; I don’t do cold water.”
He gurgled with laughter, “No, nor me anymore; Canada was enough.  I will pay you proper freelance fees and give you credit and a percentage on the programme and your name as author of the book and its ownership,” I went to protest.  “No, I insist.  And that way if you want to start your own freelance company or consultancy fine, or if I’m a one off, that’s OK too.  It is up to you.  Now will you come to Paris with me?  I want you to myself, to make love to you and hold you all night after and wake up with you in my arms in the morning?  I don’t want our first time to be a stolen afternoon.”
I twisted inwardly with pleasure; he did want me like I wanted him; and so honest.  “Oh that sounds nice; but when?  I have to go to England in the middle of October as I am supposed to do some television and radio interviews to promote one of my programmes and books.”
“I said the twenty six of September, for several days so it should be Ok, we should be back by the beginning of October at the latest.” 
“Well in that case I had better start working on your pitch for the programme and you had better tell me about the music so I can think about the video too, but some of that might have to wait until after Paris.”
“Mmm, in a minute….or two, or three,” he smirked.  I was still in his arms and he grazed his lips over my eyelids (Oh, I do like that!), and across my face and down my neck; goose bumps, goose bumps.  Then he kissed my mouth, teasing me first with little kisses, then they grew more passionate and as we rolled onto the sand together; our bodies locked, I felt his hardness against me.  Can your toes curl? 
Suddenly I heard Sharon yelling my name from the house; Dominic made a face, and I got up reluctantly.
“What’s up? “  I called.
“It’s Raphael on the phone.”
I squealed, excitedly running up the slope into the house.
“Dawn had a boy an hour ago; yes they are both well.  We have decided to call him Francisco after you, and we want you to be Godmother.  We owe all our good fortune to you.”
“Don’t be daft, but yes of course, thank you, and I do love you.  I will be seeing you in about a month; I can’t wait.”
When I put down the phone, Dominic was leaning against the frame of the door.
“Who is this Raphael that you get excited and run to and love?” he asked coldly.
Now who does not trust whom; but I saw the hurt in his eyes.
Going over to him, I glided my arms about his neck.  “He is one of my best friends who journeyed with me on my yacht and he married another of my best travelling friends called Dawn.  She has just had a baby and they are calling it after me, although it is a boy, and want me to be Godmother.  I love them both and am very happy for them.”
Dominic’s twinkle came back; he really does care for me; had he been jealous?  How wonderful, he was jealous, jealous!  I nearly sung it aloud; it was such a new feeling for me.  Maybe he would be so jealous he would never let me speak to other men or so jealous that I …there goes my imagination again.  One moment I’m happy he is jealous; next, I think he is a freak.  What does that make me, apart from neurotic?

Author Interview:

   1.      How will you describe your book within a sentence?

·         It is about a woman who seeks an adventure, which gradually changes her views and herself towards love, romance and sex.

   2.      Tell us about your favourite one among the characters of your own book? What special qualities make the particular character your favourite?

·         My heroine; Francine.  I admire her for finding the courage to change her life and follow her dream, mostly through her own cleverness and strength, which she did not know she possessed.

   3.      Your least favourite character from your book and why?

·         Francine’s ex husband, Ben. Well, he is such a spoilt, selfish, lying toad of a male.

   4.      If you get a chance of living the life of one of the characters of your book then which one would it be?

·         Oh yes please. Francine, of course, she has my fantasy life.

   5.      Genres you like to read? Genres you prefer to write?

·         Romance, autobiographies, thrillers and mysteries.
·         I write for two genres and I love both.  Children’s adventure, where I indulge in magic and romance where I indulge in ermmm, dreams……..sigh, if only.

   6.      How do you plan out your writing?

·         I never plan, I roughly have an idea of the beginning and the end, and then the characters take over.   You have to love your characters; even the horrible or wicked and I get so involved with them that they do the story themselves.  I use to think this was a little nuts, but since then I have talked to many writers who say the same.  Maybe we are all nuts! 

   7.      Tell us about your inspiration and how it motivated you to become a writer?

·         I have always loved books and writing stories, since a kid.  My English teacher always rated my essays, it seemed it was the only thing I was good at. My parents never encouraged me and I had to leave school at 15.  My father did not believe in ‘educating woman’ and I felt quite stupid.   I went back to evening school after I was married and then worked in schools and special children’s units.  As I grew older I again went back to part time education and eventually lectured in colleges.  When I became very ill and landed up in a wheelchair for several years I began to write and actually finish a story, the first time since childhood. I had grand children by then and having worked for so long with kids I started writing for children. However I had many romance books half written and decided to give one a go. I find it easier to write for adults then writing for children, because you do not have to worry about adults morals or what the story may be teaching them.  I did wonder if I could write sexy scenes, but once I started I found it quite fun.  The hard bit was trying to make the scenes different, which I hope I have done.

   8.      How do you feel now that you’re a published writer? Are you satisfied with your achievement?

·         I’m not sure about satisfied but I feel proud, mostly because the people who have read Set my soul on fire said it was beautifully written.  I feel very chuffed about this as my spelling and sentence structure is awful…but improving, obviously with my writing skills.

   9.      Do you prefer self-publishing or the traditional form of publishing?

·         Never had a chance to grab a traditional publisher, so for me it was self-publish or nothing.  I expect if I had a ‘proper’ traditional publisher I would consider myself a ‘proper’ author!

   10.  Describe yourself in 3 words.

·         Creative, caring, romanticise

   11.  Any secret or fact about you that will surprise your readers and others as well?

·         I’m really a witch and ride a dragon.

   12.  Three most important things that an amateur writer must keep in mind while writing his first book.

·         To just write the story, don’t worry about HOW to write, get it down on paper.  Then go back and add and edit it.  When you are satisfied, find a good editor and follow their suggestions etc. 
·         I was once told NOT to write so many different words to describe someone speaking. i.e, he gulped, she whispered etc, because often ‘said’ is better and simpler because the reader apparently does not ‘read’ said and can immerse their self in the dialogue! I don’t know if this is true but I do try to follow this rule.
·         Use as many of the five senses as possible on most pages.

   13.  How do you spend your leisure time except for writing? Are you into sports?

·         I look after my super grand children, go out to dinner, go to the theatre, I love driving and travel. Unfortunately the only sport I can do is swimming as my illness, Fibromyalgia, stops me from to much physical sport.

   14.  Your favourite vacation destination? Had it ever became the place where you based any of yours book? If yes, then which one?

·         I adore the Caribbean islands and the people, I have not set a story there yet!  What a great thought. 

   15.  Are you currently working on a project? If yes, would you like your readers to have a sneak peek into it? 

·         Yes, I am writing a very different romance about how people caught up in a war and experience the worse of humanity can ever love again.  Here is the first couple of pages,,,and I am not sure of the title yet.

It was their eyes that made Doctor Daniel Kalu think of zombies on the tele.  Eyes like deep wells of gloom that held no hope, unreadable, dead eyes.  They looked more shadowlike then human, lounging against the hospital walls aimlessly watching him.  Watching every long stride he made across the gritty compound, every movement monitored under hooded lids in silence.  Daniel had never been in a gathering of children that were so quiet, no chatter, whispers, no curiosity, no playing, nothing; just displaced, dysfunctional children with clouded spirits in frail bodies.  Some displayed stark white bandages like white wings showing the horror, the butchering that they had endured.  It gave him the creeps and filled his eyes with glistening tears both at the same time.  Nothing had prepared him for this.
Then there was the girl, well child really; but probably by the mileage of her life, she was older than Daniel.  She had been tipped out of a truck, just twenty-four hours after his arrival at the hospital.  At first, the security guards standing at the bared wire compound gates thought she was some bomb!  She was rolled in a smelly tribal blanket that was sodden with blood and as she tumbled towards the gates, she became covered with the particles of red dust, like a patchwork quilt of blood and dirt.  The guards, regarding her at their feet, had dropped their cigarettes some preparing to run, jabbering away wondering if her belly could have an explosion in it and whether they should carry her quickly from the gates.  Then Daniel, wondering what all the fuss was about, had strolled towards the entrance, and caught a glimpse of the girl as some of the guards gathered began to shift, frightened.  She was nearly naked, her belly swollen obviously pregnant and haemorrhaging badly with whelps and bruises over her legs and torso.   Daniel could not believe his eyes at her condition and immediately gave orders for two of the men to pick her up and take her to his operating room.  The men glanced at each other hesitating until Daniel swearing under his breath bent and scooped her up into his strong arms himself.
Daniel never thought he could save her but somehow she survived; the baby died.  When he told the girl, there was no flicker that she had even registered what he had said, her eyes as dead as the baby she held against her breast.  After a while nurse Shani took the infant from the girl’s side.  The young girl had not looked at the child once. 
Now as Daniel gazed down at the girl sleeping, she looked younger than ever, maybe fourteen – fifteen, she was a skinny little thing it was hard to tell, still at school if she was in England and into the latest fashion or music.   Nurse Shani reckoned she was a kidnapped child and taken by the ‘soldiers’ as a ‘wife’ probably gang raped too.  Rape was a powerful weapon here in West Africa; along with chopping off hands or feet, it kept people in fear and in line.   Daniel swept his hand over his shaved head, wondering what sort of animals he had come to help, and then berated himself for insulting animals, not even animals would behave this way.   He was a strong man of thirty three, his strength hidden by his slim build and height of over six foot, and he was not use to making do, yet here he was the only doctor in a hospital compound surrounded by dust and outlandish equipment and the most outdated sanitary conditions that had him shiver with disguise.
Lifting the child’s hand Daniel held her thin wrist searching for her pulse; her large dark eyes popped open. They were the biggest eyes he had ever seen and seemed to dominate her small face.  There was no fear in them, just like last night, when she looked up at Daniel - she had gone beyond fear, beyond horror.
“Good morning,” Daniel smiled and the child just stared, her round doe eyes like limped pools in shadow, making his skin prickle.  “How are you feeling?”  he asked and thought, what on earth was he saying?  This child had lost all feelings of emotions.
The girl blinked, her long heavy lashes touching her soft cheek and never attempted to answer.  Daniel felt his guts twist, melting his insides; he wanted to pick her up, cuddle her, hold her close, and tell her she was safe.  Take her home to England a land that had no conflict like this and see laughter in her face, to see her get angry for what had been done to her…anything to make her seem alive.  However, Daniel just sighed at her silence.  Maybe, when she was well, well!......  Anger flared, flushing his face and heightening his glistening perspiring body, and deepening his clinging damp shirt - how could she ever be?   Shaking his head with dismay, he thought she would probably join the other child zombies in the compound around the hospital and the surrounding camp as soon as she was physically well and then as he stood gazing at her, he realized in fact, she was already one of them. 
Later, Daniel found out that apparently it was unusual for any kid to be brought to the protected centre and hospital.   The people who worked at the centre were amazed, that is why they had regarded the girl with suspicion.  As he gently examined her she just letting him, his heart did a flip.  Maybe she was it!  Maybe this girl had been left here just for him; she was the need the light that would help purge his conscience for what he had done.  It was not enough to just come here for his sins to help the country of his grandparents.  A land so alien so distant to all that he knew, in culture, and scenery.  However, he recalled, Mother Teresa had said if you could help just one person in life… would helping this girl be enough to wash away his sin and the memories that flooded his mind every minute of every day….and night.   How could he go about helping such a child, how could he make her ever laugh again?  Where would one start?  
Finishing his examination of her he pulled the white crisp sheet up over the girl’s shiny black body, her belly as flat and smooth as any young teenagers.  No one would have known it had been swollen with a child.  She had not spoken since she had arrived, not even a groan had come from her lips or wince of pain shown on her face.
“What is your name?  Have you a name?”
Her eyes moved to his uncomprehendingly as if suddenly she had become aware that he was there.  Daniel thought for a second something flickered across her small face before she closed her eyes again and drifted back into sleep.

On the third day after Daniel’s arrival, nurse Shani wandered into Daniel’s small bedroom.  She was a tall willowy woman, only a few inches smaller than Daniels six feet.  Her blue uniform looked clean and crisp against her polished black skin with no sign of perspiration.  Daniel wondered how she remained so cool.  You would have thought some of his ancestor’s African blood might have kept his body temperature bearable.  He had been laying full length on the bed his door wide open and the small window opposite pushed open to the limit.  The breeze flowing from the door to the window seemed to curl round the room, but miss him.  He had even moved the bed between the door and the window hoping to feel some relief.
“Sorry to disturb you,” Shani grinned, her white teeth radiant in her lovely oval black face.  “The girl has spoken at last.  I thought you would like to know.  And the old lady, Lilly May, has died peacefully.”
With an effort of weariness, Daniel sat up feeling embarrassed at being found half naked on his bed.  “I knew it would be soon for Lilly May, I’m sorry.” He paused thoughtfully. “What did the girl say?”
“Her name is Anneze and she is twelve years old.”
“Twelve,” Daniel echoed.  “And already had a child.”
Shani smiled and softly said, “I was only eleven when I had my first daughter and she was coming up to twelve when she had Jobi, my grandson that lives with me here.  I was a grandmother by the time I was twenty-two.  My father gave me to my husband when I was nine and my husband gave my daughter to her husband at ten.  It is the way and not uncommon here.”
“I didn’t realize…you have a grandson here.”
“Yes, my daughter was very sick after her husband’s village was raided.  They killed her husband and chopped off my daughter’s hands and Jobi’s left hand.  Unfortunately, my daughter got an infection and never really had time to recover before the rebels came to our village; she was too weak to flee.  She begged me to take Jobi and I fled with him and my two sons.  However, Jobi was still ill from his hand being cut off and he would have slowed my sons down, they went on to the border with some friends to escape being forced to fight.  It was two years ago, I have not heard anything about my boys but I pray that they are safe somewhere.  I came here to the centre with Jobi and we have been here ever since.”
“And your husband?”
Pain swept across Shani’s face and tears swelled in her eyes, “He was a good man, and husband he allowed us to escape while he stayed with my daughter and fought of the men trying to follow us.  Another woman, from my village that had hidden herself, told me that he fought bravely, he had killed my daughter before they hacked him to death.  Then although my daughter was dead they pulled her out of our hut and threw her warm body on the grass and then raped her dead body, before they mutilated her”
Daniel felt vomit swim in his throat, but he managed to utter, “You are so brave Shani.  I can’t comprehend how you manage to seem so happy.”
Shani chuckled.  “I am happy because I have Jobi, good food and a comfy bed.  I am not brave; you have no option about these things.  I mostly carry the pain of the past inside me, occasionally it screams out.  It is life here; Africa is full of violence and disharmony.  Our history is about tribal warfare.  We live with what we live with.”
And Daniel thought he had bad memories……..
   16.  Your top three favourite authors?

·         Kate Mosse, Victoria Holt,  Roald Dahl

   17.  Any suggestions or advice for the upcoming writers on editing and publishing their books?

·         Make sure the editor is recommended to you by joining a writers club as the first one I employed was only a little better than myself which lead to some bad comments about my book.

Author Bio:

I am a retired child development lecturer and nursery nurse.  I live in Lincolnshire with my husband and near my two daughters and five grand children. Set my soul on fire, is my debut novel into adult stories; until now I have wrote mainly for children and young teenagers.
For more info on me please go to my website  as it has an interview/and review of my story and me and gives an insight into both.

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