My guest today is fellow Bookouture author Anna Mansell, who is going to share a scene from her emotional and heartbreaking story, I Wanted To Tell You.
Here’s the cover. Intriguing, isn’t it?
Sometimes I think that if I’d found a way to talk, we’d be together now…’
When Helen finds a bundle of unsent love letters, tied with a red ribbon, and signed only ‘the love you wished I could be’, she wonders who they could belong to.
The same day, however, her husband Alex announces he’s leaving. She’d believed their love would last a lifetime, but now he’s gone and she hadn’t even realised there was anything wrong.
Desperate to understand, Helen doesn’t know where to look for answers. But the letters keep drawing her back. As she reads the words of loneliness, loss and regret, something in them helps her start to make sense of it all… Even as she realises someone has been keeping heart-breaking secrets.
But who do the letters belong to? Can the sender ever be reunited with the one they love, or is it too late? And when Helen finds out the truth about Alex, can she find it in her heart to forgive him, or will he never be the love she wished he could be?
An emotional, unmissable read, exploring the devastation of loss, the power of love to heal, and the truths that bind us all together. Perfect for fans of Jojo Moyes, Diane Chamberlain and Daniela Sacerdoti.
It sounds captivating, doesn’t it? Let’s move onto the scene Anna is sharing with us.
This is my fault. I’ve nagged. I can hear myself doing it, now I think back. Or maybe I’ve shown so many signs of just how well we’re going to cope whilst he’s out of work, that I’ve missed some telltale signs about a bigger problem. I’ve felt invisible for a long while now; he’s not really been interested in me. He’s rejected cuddles and affection, I’ve put his resistance down to stress, not… not that he’d fallen out of love with me. Maybe it’s this polyester jumper.
‘Right, I’ll be off then.’ James moves slowly. He picks up an old paper, dropping it in the bin as he goes past.
‘Hey, leave that, I’ll clean up.’
‘It’s okay, I was just making myself useful. Consider it my bus fare.’ He pauses, giving me another smile. But as he gets off the bus, he catches his leg on the step, flinching as he lands flat-footed on the pavement, muttering something undetectable under his breath.
‘Oh, James, are you okay?’ I jump out from the driver’s seat as he stands up tall, stretching out his back.
‘I’m fine, thank you.’ He stands taller as if to prove it.
‘Are you sure? Do you want me to take a look?’
‘Ach, getaway. It’s fine. Ah’m fine.’ He turns to face me. ‘We’re all fine!’ he declares, baring a toothy grin. I spy a split-second glance of devilment in his eye, a sniff of mischief. ‘We’re all fine, aren’t we?’ he says again, eyeing me carefully.
‘Course we are,’ I agree, gazing down at my shoes.’
‘You wanna tell ye face?’ he says, wryly. ‘It’s looked pretty vacant most of the day. That smile you’ve been painting, it doesnae reach your eyes, and your chat’s no’ been so hot… if you don’t mind ma saying?’
‘I’m tired. Probably. An off day. Ignore me.’ He stares. ‘Hey! Don’t challenge an almost middle-aged woman on her mood, I can categorically tell you it’s a topic full of minefields. And hormones.’ I bury my head in the takings bag, pretending to search for something.
‘Get home, put your feet up. Enjoy your dinner and sleep. I’ll see ya.’ He starts to walk away, then slowly turns back, like a hobbling, slightly muckier-macked Columbo. ‘Sometimes, we’re waiting for the right moment. The right words. For someone else te make it easy for us, te say the right thing at the right time ’cause we don’t know where te start. Ya know?’
I stare at him, is this code? Does he want me to say something for him? To him? I don’t understand.
‘Sometimes we have te feel the fear,’ he says.
‘My friend Vicky says that. Feel the fear and do it anyway.’
‘Your friend Vicky sounds smart.’
I nod. ‘She’s a teacher.’ As if that answers everything.
I go back to the money bag, keeping an eye on James as he leaves. He looks up and around him. He looks to the sky, the inky black of this crisp January night. The stars, the moonlit clouds, thin and shimmering. I look, too, until my phone dings out with a message and I dive into my bag to wrench it out, pulling my back in the process.
It sounds a fascinating read, doesn’t it? If you want to find out what happens you can get the book here:
Anna had a brush with ‘fame’ as a magician’s assistant back in 1977. She later decided that being sawn in half by her magical performing father, at barely 6 months old, was too submissive a role. She vowed to channel the trauma in to something much more pro-actively creative. Having failed at acting, singing and professional murder mystery parties (she was ALWAYs the one to die!), she fell to something much more solitary: writing. She has written three novels, published by Bookouture, with a fourth due in 2019. Anna lives on a dairy farm in Cornwall with her two children, her husband, and her ex-racing greyhound, Olive Dog.
You can find out more about Anna here:
Thanks so much for dropping by to talk to us, Anna. Wishing you lots of luck with your book.
When Saffy’s sister called to say she was stuck abroad with no hope of getting home to run her usual ‘singles Christmas lunch’, Saffy knew she would have to abandon her plans for wild festive parties in the city and head down to remote Cornwall to save the day. But family parties are so not her thing and both her sister Hannah and sexy single dad Logan seems certain she’ll never manage. Can she prove them wrong? Now available in print and as an e-book: