Author has written 37 stories for Harry Potter, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Down Your Hair, Shakespeare, and Dear John.
A note on my stories...
Sun, the Moon and Stars is now complete. I cannot believe it. It is astounding. I'm going to miss Arty so much. She's like the best imaginary friend ever. So I just want to say here - THANKYOU so much to everyone who has ever read, followed, favourited, and reviewed this story - it's means an awful lot to me and I never would have made it through 60 chapters to the very end without all your encouragement and PM asking me to get my act together and hurry up and update.
Thank you guys, it's been real!
A Drop In The Ocean...
My newest project, a humourous look at what happens after our favourite characters leave Hogwarts and strive out into the real world. Rose has finally returned from her wanderings around the globe to a family, not all of whom are delighted to see her, her best friend Scorpius, who is acting peculiar, and an assortment of fascinating characters all with a story of their own. A full length story that focuses on trying to become an adult when really you're still just a kid at heart.
(Told in an assortment of letters, articles and notes.)
Though up as a Rose/Scorpius (which it undoubtedly is!) there are other ships floating around including:
Lily Luna and Cosmo Zabini... After leaving Hogwarts, Lily opens a chocolate shop and begins a life-long love affair with the wonderful world of confectionary. Throw in lawyer-in-training Cosmo Zabini and it's not long before things are getting positively sugary!
Albus Potter and Ally Longbottom... Having just moved in together, the couple (loving known as the Al's to their friends) are realising that perhaps adult life isn't as easy as perhaps they thought. Trying to run The Three Broomsticks, as well look after Albus's heartbroken older brother, mixed in with some other problems all their own and it's definitely going to be a bumpy ride for the couple.
Which leads us on quite nicely to...
James Potter and Sophie Richardson and Evelyn Wood and Roland Corner...
Everyone knows that James is a prat, why else would he be having an affair with Sophie Richardson, wife of the Head of the Department of Magical Cooperation? But once Evelyn Wood and her boring boyfriend Roland enter the scene, it's clear to everyone (well to Lily at least) that they are simply meant to be. The problem? They can't stand each other.
But love and hate have a funny way of getting entwined...
Morning After... A much darker look at the implications of growing up, but also of developing as a person. If you're looking for something nice and light, I suggest you try some of my fluffy one-shots, but if you're intrigued check it out. (I would, however, suggest only older readers tackling this one.)
The main reason for these notes here however, is that if, in any way at all, Morning After has opened up any questions to you, or even if you simply need a stranger to listen to you completely impartially, I'm here, and always happy to listen and help in anyway I can.
I promise, I will do everything I can to help you.
Reasons for Murder..
Lastly, for all you avid crime readers out there, there is also a Next Generation: Crime/Mystery/Romance heading your way. For all those who love Sherlock as much as I do, check it out! I promise you, you wont be disappointed.
Here's a sneak peak...
This was painfully easy, I observed, reaching for my glass. The overweight guy with the sweat marks under his arms sat on the barstool next to me at the bar was far more interested in my smooth white thighs than the bulging wallet that was jutting out of his jeans pocket. And that wasn't the only thing that was jutting out. Some people are just so obvious.
Sighing, I wondered whether it was really worth being leered at for five more minutes just to get the wallet. It wasn't as though I needed it but I was just so bored and a little excitement - any excitement - was better than just staying at home with my aunt and uncle. I loved my family but they weren't exactly exciting.
Of course, once, when I'd been back there, life had been full of excitement.
So now I was reduced to sneaking out to bars and seeing what I could get my hands on. My kleptomaniac habits weren't exactly stealing I told myself, even though I knew that really it was. I only took stuff from prospects I found interesting and I knew that if I lifted the watch (Patek Philipe, Rose Gold - Mens Calatravast. released this month. Price: £21,ooo) there would just be another sat in its place the next time I bumped into him at the bar . It would be replaced with a new, shinier, model before I could say fizzing Whizzbees.
Besides, it just wasn't a challenge. His breath told me he was already on his fourth, sorry, no fifth brandy and the bar mat in front of him told me he'd already had two aperitifs. Gin and tonics most probably, judging from the splash marks and the damp rings. People just aren't fun to steal from if you can't see their face when they realise it's gone. But then again, the bartender was heading down this was and it wasn't like I had any money on me. What was the point when I could steal some just as easily?
I kicked my feet against the bar and nodded to the tender who brought me another drink. I took a sip just as a young man slid onto the stool on my left. I let my eyes lazily trail over his suit (William Fioravanti Bespoke. Hand tailored. Price: £19,ooo) the silver watch on his wrist ( Rolex - Cosmograph Daytona, Price:£45,ooo) his shoes (Armani, Italian leather. Handmade. Price: £1,2oo). He was watching me watching him. I went back to my drink.
"Avez-vous un briquet?" He asked. I replaced my drink on the bar, lining it up with the damp ring already there. He had turned his body now so that he could stare at me without cricking his neck. Making sure that we had eye-contact I flicked my eyes right, to the sign above the bar.
'Défense de fumer.'
He snorted and pulled out a cigarette anyway but I wasn't watching the hand with the box in it. I was staring at his chest which, for the moment it had not been hidden by his jacket, had shown me a brief glimpse of a golden pocket watch. Now, that was more like it. Hitching my smile more brightly onto my face, I leant forward to him. Of course, if I was being lazy, I could just seduce it out of him and it wasn't as if he was bad looking but it was just too easy. Plus, it always made me feel a little cheap. I'd far rather use my brain and sleight of hand than my body.
The bartender had appeared again and Pocket Watch asked me if I wanted another drink. I nodded my assent and he used the distraction to oh-so-casually shift himself closer to me. I stifled a snort of derision and hit him with the full weight of my pout.
Six and a half minutes later I exited the bar and turned right into a small side alley. Making sure there were no muggle tramps around I turned swiftly on my heel and felt the suffocating darkness swallow me. Landing neatly on the pavement just outside my house I wandered up the front drive. It was dark, though barely, and the august air was warm as I slid off my shoes and climbed nimbly onto the wall that ran along the edge of the garden. I walked along it until I reached the rose trellis and began to climb it, avoiding the sharp thorns.
I'd been going to that particular bar for a little over a year because, even once I'd become a regular, I was still, for the most part, left alone. I knew all the doormen and which ones bothered to check IDs and which didn't. It was the same with the bartenders. Lawrence, the guy who had been on duty tonight, was a friend of mine and was always willing to look the other way if I was reeling in a mark. Of course, he didn't know I wasn't actually sleeping with any of them, just pinching stuff. He just thought I was a lonely young lady, wanting a bit of fun before my high-society mama sent me back to expensive ladies college I attended.
But the best thing about the bar was the Muggles. There wasn't a witch or wizard - other than my family - in a twenty kilometre radius and that was how I liked it. I spent all school year surrounded by magical beings and while they were undoubtedly more difficult, and therefore more challenging to steal from, I really had no wish to end up in trouble with the aurors again. Last time had been bad enough. Hell, I'd ended up here hadn't I? Exiled to the (admittedly pleasant) South of France six years ago after one, action packed year at Hogwarts which had ended my time in cold, wet England so dramatically, not to mention unpleasantly.
Flopping down on my neatly made bed, I let the golden chain of the watch dangle from between my fingertips and listened to the tick-tick of the hands as they worked their way around the numbers. Then I grinned. I wonder what Mr Cigarette would think when he stood up and realised that I'd stolen his shoes...
So there we are, I also have a number of one shots in the making which hopefully should be gracing your screen soon. And now, all there is left to say is
OBITUARY FOR THE LATE MR. COMMON SENSE
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.
He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and Maybe it was my fault.
Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.
Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get Parental consent to administer Calpol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.
Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.
Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.
Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.
He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.