IN THE PINK
In this wry, comic entertainment set in the early 1980s it’s
just three years since art historian Anthony Blunt was publicly unmasked in
1979 as the fourth man in a ring of British spies that had worked for the
Soviet Union as KGB operatives.
Dame Marjorie Sandringham is a delightful and distinguished
former diplomat and later Mistress of St. Ethelreda’s College, Oxford, until
her recent retirement. Now she’s Chair of ISAS (the International Sisterhood
for Action and Solidarity) but there’s more to her than meets the eye...
Rhoda Ribteen, Chair of the ISAS Grants and Publicity
Committees attends a conference in Washington and finds herself sharing a room
with Winifred Hokeki, a matronly woman from Maphutsana in southern Africa. With
a sudden flash of her native initiative Rhoda offers her the ISAS scholarship
for developing countries for her daughter, Kezzia, to come to England and study
rural development. Maphutsana is strategically the key to Africa, and is the
last remaining British colony in Africa. It ‘s due to become independent and
already the Maphutsana cabal headed by Dr Bible Uvengi is intriguing for power
while Romeo Alfaemzo, the guerrilla leader is backed by China.
Dame Marjorie supports Rhoda's offer and it's not long
before the plump and permanently bumbling Annie Pettifer, secretary to the ISAS
Grants Committee has the task of making travel arrangements for Kezzia and
meeting her off the international flight. Hovering over Annie’s every move like
the sword of Damocles is sharp-tongued Verene Widmer, the Swiss General
Secretary of ISAS.
Kezzia proves sublime. At the Agricultural College, the
Honourable Eustace Darracott and Joe Lister fight for her favours and she runs
away with the succeeding days. With this success in the bag, Rhoda backs Dame
Marjorie for the Presidency of ISAS. Dame Marjorie is standing against Mrs
Wilmer T. Swatz of the United States, who considerably stirred up the ISAS
Congress in Brussels at the Palais des Nations by daily issuing campaign
leaflets canvassing for herself.
Dame Marjorie wins the contest and the way is open for a
fundraising drive for Maphutsana. Grace Crackenthorpe, now eighty and a member
of the ISAS Grants Committee, who has spent most of her life as a science
organiser in foreign fields, is despatched there. She gets a Maphutsana branch
of ISAS off the ground, totally constitutional, and the money, thanks to
Kezzia's impassioned advocacy pours in. Most of all there is Dame Marjorie's
brainwave, the huge Sinking Fund out of which a preliminary cash injection is
given to the hopeless and homeless to get them to participate in self-help.
Cut to the following Summer when Annie's friend, the
journalist Francis Best, is being seen off at the airport by his girl friend,
Honor Grenville, to cover Maphutsana for a television feature at the same time
as ISAS is bidding farewell to Kezzia, who has Eustace and Joe in tow. Honor
and Dame Marjorie recognise one another from the time Dame Marjorie was
Ambassador to Ecuador and Honor's husband Colin (from whom she has separated)
was Third Secretary. Eustace, whose father is Foreign Affairs spokesman in the
Lords has pulled a string or two to ensure that Kezzia will be back as an
Observer at the Constitutional Conference to be held at Marlborough House. Joe,
not to be outdone, has volunteered for VSO in Maphutsana.
Nobody, least of all Francis, expects the result of the
Maphutsanan elections to turn out as it does. Kezzia, who formed a Women's
Party, only two weeks before polling day, sweeps to power in a landslide
victory and is elected President of the country. She is self-confessedly
non-aligned, but the day afterwards does the little favour she has agreed with
Dame Marjorie.
You quick witted reader will have cottoned on before half
the book and half the manoeuvring is completed... But everybody wins in his or
her own way.
BUY LINKS
Apple ibooks
https://itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/serena-fairfax/id487813547?mt=11
LOVING THAT FEELING
Seared by a bigamous love cheat, London designer Deborah Tremaine
backs
Zoran has clawed his way out of Serbia’s turbulent past but believes
his background means he won’t find happiness simply because he can’t trust a
woman to cherish him for who he is — a Serb. But he’s a hot-blooded Slav up for
no-strings sex and Deborah sends him into overdrive.
Deborah’s finances are in meltdown when a customer goes bust. Zoran
dangles a business deal based in Belgrade, Serbia that she can’t refuse. She’s
confident the job won’t compromise the campaign and decides that Zoran is the
guy who can jump-start her love life.
They embark on a sizzling affair but tension, erotically sexual and
work related, skyrockets. Incidents trigger the revelation of their personal
demons. Can they escape the black holes?
EXCERPT
Ko je ta zena? “Who is that woman?” Zoran Pavlović trained his
binoculars on the pigeon-haunted roof of the derelict cinema, his eyes zoning
in on the endless blue-jeaned legs, the wind-blown auburn hair, the high, full
breasts jutting against the thin fabric of her sherbet-lemon T-shirt. She was
primetime. A hardening heat coiled through his groin.
“That’s Deborah
Tremaine, sir, the interior designer who’s spearheading the campaign.” His aide
sweated nervously in the summer sunshine. “I think we ought to…”
“I think,” Zoran said
and dealt him a trenchant glance, “you should leave the thinking to me. I want
you to stay here and monitor this lunatic fringe.”
Nice view, Zoran
muttered as he assessed his options for handling her. She was brandishing a
crimson flag emblazoned with the purple slogan Save Our Heritage Now! having scaled the ladder hauled into place
by her supporters. Singing “We Will Overcome,” they’d blockaded the bulldozers
and charmed the guard dogs into shadows with choice chunks of meat.
Zoran sprang from the
Land Rover, a powerful body in black— denims, T-shirt, trainers—and cut a swift
path over the rubble. Tipped off that activists planned to stage a long sit-in,
they’d already spiked redevelopment for months—months that left him seriously
out of pocket. It couldn’t go on, it wouldn’t go on. Action was
imperative—action that would be characterized as friendly persuasion in his
native Serbia, although possibly something quite else in England—but he’d ride
out the storm. He’d ridden out worse.
“Quite the warrior
princess, Boadicea,” he murmured as, storming the treads, he scaled the parapet
with spider-like agility. He flicked her a cool, controlled gaze, his belly
knotting as he registered the luminosity of her skin, the scent of lavender
shampoo in the shining cloud of hair, eyes of lapis blue, a soft mouth that
promised so much.
“I’m Zoran Pavlović. We
haven’t met before…”
Their eyes swerved
together and held, and suddenly Deborah’s heart was drumming with the most
primitive sexual charge. She felt like melting ice, lost and floating in a warm
flood. As the sensuous amber-richness of his cologne infused her senses, a wave
of entrapment clutched her and she inched away. “I’m sure I’d remember if we
had.”
She’d tracked him as he
sharked across. The strong sunlight highlighted the glossy, cropped,
raven-black hair, restless energy exuding from the long-limbed body, the
T-shirt taut against wide shoulders. The polished skin with its hint of olive.
She knew he owned the site and was once mauled by the media for his predatory
style but now played them like a Stradivarius violin with his promise to
deliver jobs and homes.
“Welcome aboard,” she
added caustically. “So what’s on offer?” She tilted her head speculatively and
lifted her chin. The dangling, animist-style earrings from central Africa clinked
softly, the antique beaten silver contrasting with the sudden, bright color in
her creamy skin as his glance stripped her naked. God, this wasn’t supposed to happen. She was a foolish, reckless
nineteen-year-old again, easily aroused and prone to coup de foudre.
He was well armed for
the fight. “We’ll talk when you’re down.”
BUY LINKS
Siren BookStrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/loving-that-feeling
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/loving-that-feeling-serena-fairfax/1118197748?ean=9781627409261
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Serena Fairfax spent her childhood in India, qualified as a
lawyer in England and joined a London law firm.
Romance is hardwired into her DNA so her novels include a
strong romantic theme. However, she broke out of the romance bubble with IN THE
PINK, a quirky departure in style and content, that you can download free from
her website until 1 August 2014.
She’s also written several short stories that feature on her
blog http://www.serenafairfax.com/serena_fairfax_author_blog/
Fast forward to a sabbatical from the day job when Serena
traded in bricks and mortar for a houseboat which, for a hardened land lubber
like her, turned out to be a big adventure.
Apart from writing and reading (all kinds of books), a few
of Serena’s favorite things are collecting old masks, singing (in the rain) and
exploring off the beaten track.
She’s a member of the Romantic Novelists Association, which
is a very supportive organization. Serena and her golden retriever, Inspector
Morse, who can't wait to unleash his own Facebook page, divide their time
between London and rural Kent. (Charles Dickens said: Kent, sir. Everybody
knows Kent. Apples, cherries, hops and women).
Thanks for hosting me!
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