An author suffering for her art… the quest for authenticity takes a dive

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It’s time to check out another book in my steamy suspense romance series. The title is WEALTH. I’ll admit I had a ball with this. Our heroine Kaitlyn isn’t a greedy girl. She works shifts as a traffic cop, scrapes by for cash and still doesn’t really know who she is or what she wants. Then the storm hits her. The first wave is infinite sexual love with a fabulous man. The second wave is infinite money. The rest of the story is about enjoying both. Hey – I loved imagining and writing this story. I’ve not quite been the same since and it’s not because of money…..I’ll explain.

You guys know that I try to write about real places I’ve seen for myself. If it feels real to me I’m hoping that’s the way it comes off the page. I adore Paris, so I had to check out the little bistro in the Latin Quarter where a daring kidnap and shoot-out takes place.

Then the story heads for Italy. First up is the high fashion world of Milan and a hotbed of inter-mafia tensions. Just as I was wondering how to get there, my partner surprised me with a little trip. These days kids go through the routine of gap years and back-packing tours of the globe. Back then neither of us had the freedom or money to do that stuff. We went to work, paid the taxes and dreamed of a pensioner’s cruise – maybe. With a book to research why not join the back-pack trail and head off for Italy? The kids groaned and rolled eyes but what’s the use of parents if they don’t embarrass you? We set off by train to see Milan, Rome, Florence and Venice. What could possibly go wrong? What danger could there be in admiring the architecture of the fabulous rail station of Milan while waiting to catch the train to Rome?

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A DARING ADVENTURE ON THE ROOF OF MILAN CATHEDRAL – NO SLIP UPS HERE

There I was loaded with my unfamiliar heavy back-pack, wobbling along the uneven concrete forecourt. A pothole, probably left by Mussolini, seduced my foot and I crashed to the ground, trapped by my luggage. There was pain. I knew it was bad. My partner hauled me up and draped me on the hood of a taxi. We had a conference. Life is about choices: My partner made a sympathetic male patriarch type decision.

“I think you’ve broken your humerus. Generally they put you in a sling and tell you to smile through the pain. We’ve paid for an hotel and a very expensive Vatican tour tomorrow. We go on to Rome, buy a sling and maybe pray for divine intervention in St Peter’s. Then we see the sights. If you don’t cry and howl I’ll buy you an ice cream. Then we go to the hospital.”

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MEDECINE A LA MILANESE

And that is what we did. My arm was swollen and black. The X-Ray showed the break and the fragmentation of the ball joint. We bought a deluxe high fashion Italiano sling at a shop recommended by the hospital. My man bought me an ice cream. I smiled through the pain as we flew home without going on to Florence or Venice. The rest was one handed typing and physio. It took me at least six months to get back to anything like normal.

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SMILING THROUGH THE TEMPORARY SLING AT THE VATICAN

Far more importantly, I had seen the venues I wanted for Seduction of Wealth. At last I felt as if I had truly suffered for my art. Very soon I’m going to plan a story in Florence and Venice. I’ll be back.

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HMMM…. THUMBS UP? I GOT THE VENUES FOR MY SUSPENSE ROMANCE ‘WEALTH’!

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Breath In #Venice – The Living Flesh Of Imagination In Stone pic.twitter.com/ulZHBV9B5K #minibreak

There’s no place like Dome

Venice. Yes, that one word says it all. If only I had words to say what that one word says. Maybe I’ll just put up some pictures. Let me explain.

Main Street


I went to Venice – just popped over. You see there are people in Cybersales who know about me and watch me. They know the swivel of my eyes and the recycle bin shameful lusts of my browser history. I should be worried about surveillance and privacy shouldn’t I? Someone out there in the ethos of commercial ether knew that if they sent me an e mail offer of a couple of nights in Venice for the price of a B&B with a pint of warm beer in Grimethorpe, I’d be the sort of lush, decadent credit abusing floozy who’d sign up. So, I got out the plastic fantastic, explained to airport security that there was indeed a terrorist’s dream of

Venice  in night time perspective

metal support in my bra and uplifted myself to a place where I’d only ever been in my books. It just didn’t seem fair that Earl Spencer and hot cop Shannon had shared Venetian love in Passion Patrol 2 and I had not!

Many of you will have been there. If you have, you are still there at any moment the name comes back to you. If you have not, then it will be Disneyed away in your helpless dreams. Of course there is the sadness that it could all be swept away. The Mose project is nearly ready to provide gates to hold back the sea. The quaysides are being raised. Collectively as a world we cannot let this go. Moses, Noah, King Canute and I will not allow it!


The above is a short clip of my coffee at the borrowed edge of time. Oh thank you credit card limit. Thank you Venice. Thank you spirit of magic that inspired this place.

Emma Thinx: The hardest thing about the possible is to imagine it.