The End of The Writing Dry Spell?

I have heard a number of writers say that the lockdowns, instead of giving a lovely spread of clear writing time, have actually been dry and uninspired. I’m one of them. I really thought that I’d write like the wind – I have so many books in various stages of unfinishedness (is that even a word?) So there certainly wasn’t a problem with finding something to work on.

But.It.Just.Wasn’t.Happening.

It’s cold and grey and snowing outside. Snow too deep to make trekking enjoyable. Even the chickens were staying on their perches and cuddling up to each other.

And I was home, cuddling up to a few good books – ok, many good books – when I should have been producing something myself.

Then, hallelujah – I got the final galleys for The Bride’s curse from my lovely editor at TWRP – the book is heading for publication and suddenly, writing became possible again. I sent off Dark Revenge, a romantic suspense, to the publisher in an act that felt like desk clearing.

And I sat down to write again.

What to choose from the list of ideas that seems to have grown longer and longer?

The answer is obvious, really. I wanted something fun, and it’s almost Sit. Patrick’s Day. Soooo, what could be better than the sequel to Winters & Somers, my Irish detective tale? In this latest adventure, Ciara Somers, the Dublin Based PI, and her lover, New York Homicide cop J.V.Winters, get involved with organised crime and stumble over some very disorganised crime, as well….with help (or hindrance) from two grannies, a couple of pot smoking friends, and a cynical Dublin cop. Did I mention the weird bed and breakfast lady?  And an assorted list of characters from the first book.

Oh, yes, this writing is going to be fun!

Here’s the link for Winter’s and Somers, the first book:

Tirgearr Publishing - Winters & Somers By Glenys O'Connell

or https://tinyurl.com/y8g2yhua for Amazon

 

All About Winters & Somers - My Irish Detective Novel.

Irish PI, Cíara Somers, makes a good living testing the ‘temptability quotient’ of men for their insecure lovers…but when NY homicide cop and author of red hot romances, Jonathon Winters, makes her take him on as a partner in her Dublin agency, he gets the wrong message from her raunchy style . . . especially when he wants her for himself.
Somers isn’t the type to let a man push her around – the incorrigible Grannie Somers raised her to be her own woman. But when she discovers that even Grannie drools over the sexy Winters, she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to indulge in one of the fantasies that have millions of women reading his romantic books.
And when Somers finally gets her first real case – to capture the notorious jewel thief dubbed The Diamond Darling – she has to survive the help of her weird relatives, the landlady from hell, two stoned friends, a stray dog – and Winters himself . . .

Cíara Somers prowled among the top drawer clientele of the exclusive Dublin nightclub, her scarlet lips pursed in a sexy pout.

When a hearty male hand slapped her bum, she clamped down on her instinctive reaction to impale the man’s foot to the shiny wooden floors with her wicked four-inch stiletto heel. Instead, she cracked a sultry smile and batted her dark eyelashes provocatively.

After all, she was working tonight. And you could hardly blame the poor darlings. Frankly, any man who didn’t respond to her artfully designed siren’s call had to be dead. At least from the neck down.

The nightclub catered to very rich business and professional Dubliners – the place positively reeked of money – but she was after a specific fish, so it wouldn’t do for a woman like her to draw too much attention to herself. If the eagle-eyed club management copped on to what she was up to, she’d be thrown out on her mini-skirted rear end.

She spotted her prey over by the bar, drinking alone and looking sorry for himself. Bingo! He looked exactly ready for the company of a beautiful, sympathetic blonde. Straightening her back to accentuate the rounded swell of her breasts, Cíara sashayed up to the bar with a hip-sway that would raise any healthy hetero male’s blood pressure off the charts.

She leaned on the bar, the action pressing her cleavage into a picture that instantly mesmerized the barman and several other men. But here was the tricky part – to attract only the one she wanted.

Attracting him wasn’t hard at all. The tall, thin man on her right turned his head to follow the barman’s gaze – and was hooked immediately. Slowly, his eyes traveled from her chest to linger on her mouth, before taking a slow detour to her toes while taking in other vital areas along the way.

“Well, hello there,” he growled. A wolfish smile lit up his face and he treated her to a display of crooked teeth. She suppressed a shudder. This was work, after all, but just occasionally it would be nice to work on a guy she really fancied.

Later she’d remember the old saying about being careful what you wished for in case it came true, but tonight she was just another working girl.

So she returned the smile, twitching her lower lip into that full ruby pout that men found so irresistible. She let a wave of blonde hair fall forward over one eye as she languidly stretched out a sun-tanned hand and drew a blood-red fingernail down his shirtfront.

“Hello, yourself,” she purred, and watched with satisfaction as he swallowed the bait.

Thirty minutes later, she extricated herself from her target’s roaming hands, giggled throatily and excused herself with the need to powder her nose.

“Don’t be too long, baby, I’m having a hard time waiting!” he leered, and gave her an indulgent slap on her behind as she walked away. Cíara turned to wink at him and blow a scarlet-lipped kiss in his direction.

He’d already invited her back to his place for a nightcap ‘…and whatever else we fancy!’