New Years resolutions

We all make them don’t we?

Lose weight must be the biggest one.. gyms are heaving, exercises classes booked ou,  people out pounding the road

Quit smoking… a couple of tetchy people about in January

Take up something new, pyramid it forward, be more positive, read more write more…

No wonder people get the January blues we start off with all good intentions  and as they last about as long as a chorus of Auld Lang Syne we then fall in to a deep state of failure and depression…

Well there’s one thing I’ve leared in my 27 nearly 28 years… you’ll only complete something and work at something you enjoy.. I’ve also learnt there’s not enough time in the day…

Which is why my new years resolution last year was to finish my book which I did… In January.. I one year on I have had multiple rejectons and have decided to publish myself on Amazon… I’ve sold about 10…

Why is this? Because I have zero interest in trawling through multiple sites to find out the best way to publish, I don’t get twitter, I have no time to sit and actually do these things I even if I did have an interest in them … no i really don’t, I am currently clock watching as I have to be out the door on way to an appointment  in 13 minutes… Make that 12…

So my resolution  was to make more time and use the time I have more sufficiently so rather than spending 20 minutes on candy crush I’m letting you in on my resolution… get off my lazy ass and listen to the pros.. I put a year in to writing a book now I want it to be read and enjoyed…

until next year when hopefully I will be a twitter whizz and The Lies That Bind Us will be a bit higher up in the Amazon and Smashword’s charts…

I bid you s happy new year or Blwyddyn Newydd Dda its welsh new year here today in Cwm Gwaun for any of you interested  in weird traditions… I’d post you a link but my phone doesn’t like WordPress on chrome and if I dare make a mistake it stops me writing so do feel free to Google 😉 

Hope you all have a fab 2015 until next time…


P.s if you want to give me a tweet up the bum @Dani87do


Where do you find the time?

This is a call out to my fellow blog stars.

I bow down in awe to your commitment , enthusiasm and inspiration for such read worthy blogs and the regularity in which you post.

I’m a sinner in the blog world,  I have a sudden urge to blog then 3 months later pop back again to say hi… I struggle to find things to talk about to interest and delight a fickle audience where  better reading is just a click away.

So I call to all ye noble bloggers who are doing it right…

Where do you get your inspiration?

When is your best time to blog?

Where are you when you blog?

And do you do it through computer? Laptop? Phone?

It’s just something  I found myself wondering whilst scrolling through a multitdue of fantastic  blogs and writing and thought I could do it if I spent less time on Facebook and Candy Crush….!

Is discipline the key?

Take a leap int…

Take a leap into the unknown and know that where you land, is where you are meant to be. Author unknown

This  statement can apply to a lot of circumstances in life and I for one and a firm believer in just going for it and see what happens. If it doesn’t work out and least you tried right?

That’s the attitude I took when starting my mobile beauty business… what was the worse that could happen? If it failed I’d get a job elsewhere and know that it didn’t work but at least the niggle in my head of “What If?” would be gone. Luckily the gamble paid off and I’m coming up to a year in business and it’s going from strength to strength.

Today I think back to October 2012, I was travelling to the ferry from a weekend with my family and the thoughts of going back to my then job were depressing me. I was getting to the point where I didn’t see myself sticking out there much longer and self employment seemed like a far fetched dream. I was voicing these thoughts to my mum who said ‘Why don’t you write a book? Your good at making up stories and you see lots of different people everyday why not write about it?’


Mmm… not a bad idea. So I sat down with an A4 pad in my dressing gown and got to work. The words just flowed out and before I knew it, I had three chapters written. My friend then suggested I type it rather than actually write it making it easier for him to read and easier when it came to time of publishing… yea right, one can only dream.

14 months later, the book is finished! Wow I actually did it, pat on the back for me. SO I chance my arm and send it to the first professional looking publisher I see on Google, Pegasus Publishers and I send across a sample expecting to hear nothing back as how would I be that lucky?

Well would you believe it, they asked for the entire manuscript, that’s a good sign right?

I then received an email saying it will take four weeks for the initial review and they would let me know.


Today my partner called in briefly from work and handed me my mail, a big white envelope which I didn’t really look at just chatted a I opened it having no idea what was inside.

What followed was reminiscent of the you tube videos of little children being told they are going to Disney land.

They want to publish my book!!! OH MY GOD!!


My partner being the sensible and less excited out of the two of us took a look at the contract.

“Ahhh, no see….” These words deflated me like a lead balloon. I slowly walked over to see what it was that was wrong with this too good to be true scenario… If I wasn’t receiving any profits, I wouldn’t care, I’m a published author… Ah yes, they’d publish it for the bargain price of £2,300! I would be fully reimbursed if said piece if writing was a failure within 30 days.


Well that’s that then. So now I have had the rude awakening of I have no idea what I am doing when it comes to publishing, I really don’t know where to go from here now… do I self-publish? Do I save all my little pennies to allow Pegasus to give it a go? After all if it fails I’ll have my money back and I could just class it as savings…

I then found a very interesting blog about advice for authors who are hoping to publish and I was reading it, I just realised I have no clue where to go from here…

As I say I am self employed, it’s just little old me going from week to week saying a little prayer every weekend that the next week will busy up so I really am stuck for investing money in to my little piece of work, having it proof read, paying for a design for the cover etc so now I am in the dilemma of where to go from here.

If anyone would like to invest in The Lies That Bind us… please send your offers to

Letting it out…

“Come on, let your colours burst
Make ’em go, “Aah, aah, aah”
You’re gonna leave ’em all in awe, awe, awe”

Katy Perrys song Firework came out at a time when I was restarting after being ditched by a cheating ex while he went on to munch on greener pastures… 

Rather than being a screwed up mess sitting in a dark room reading ‘The Bell Jar’ I decided to start living. I no longer had to worry about what I looked like, how I dressed, what I ate, what I said. I could be me again. I lost weight, I partied hard, worked hard and had a ball and whenever I would hear this song I would dance my little ass off and directed it at the people who were waiting for me to crumble in to self pity.

Now I am a self employed mobile Beauty Therapist with my very own little business, I have a novel being reviewed by a publisher and I have just had a message from an editor of a magazine who should be enjoying the sun rays in Mexico instead of texting a little old amateur in Wales, asking if I was still up for writing an article for them. 

Now this is not a look at me, how well I’m doing post its’s more a motivational post.

I have always been an avid reader and loved writing stories, the more imaginative the better. 

I will never forget the day I was in primary school, I’m guessing 10 or 11 years of age and I was asked to write a piece about a monastery. So I let my creative juices flow thinking this will set my piece of writing apart from the rest of the class, so rather than saying, There is a place called Clonmacnoise. It is old. It was built by the Vikings yadayadayada… I decided to tell it as a story so I started with ‘Once upon a time on a great big hill there was a monastery… now I don’t remember the rest because as I eagerly had started to read out my piece my teacher at snatched it from me, read it out in a sarky tone, got my whole class to laugh at me for my stupidity and I was told to re-write it all again… I was humiliated. Funnily enough the next year we had to retell the story of ‘The Hungry Caterpillar’ and I got top marks… same teacher!

Now all she probably remember me as the quivering little child who wouldn’t say boo to a goose and cried when she was shouted at for not being able to get her head around basic Math but I will always remember the teacher who tried to put me down and my dreams of becoming an author.

When I got to High school, I was set free, I was allowed to be as creative as I liked and English was my favourite subject, so much so I thought of Journalism as a career but as a person who likes to be liked I opted out.

Then as it does young love intervened and partying, late nights and lazy days overcame me. I still read but lost my imaginative streak and the guy I was with always poked fun at my attempt at humour and constantly reminded me I wasn’t funny and had no common sense. I was book smart and could only regurgitate what I had learnt or been shown…

Seven years later I was a free independent woman and did I enjoy it. I made the concious decision to let others words and thoughts effect me and anyone who tried was immediately was cut from my life never to return and their absence is only marked by the success I have achieved from it.


So the point… I do have one I promise… is look back to your dreams as a child? Have you accomplished them? They may have seemed impossible to the adults around you but why should they be? The innocence of a child saying ‘I want to be a princess when I’m older’. Well why not? You want to be a princess, be a princess, wear a tiara, wear a pretty frock, who’s going to stop you? As long as you don’t try to jump the wall of Windsor Castle no one can touch you or your dreams!!


Shrug off the criticisms, constant let downs and focus on you and your wants, you don’t have a right over anyone’s just as much as they don’t over yours!!


P.S As a child, I wanted to be an author and a hairdresser… I nearly made it 🙂  

My first offer for submission….HELP!!


Ok, so the book/novel/random pages of writing that hopefully resemble a story is finished…

I took a risk by sending a sample to just one publishing company, just for the laugh, just to see what might happen. I imagined it making it’s way cosily in to their inbox and then moving quite rapidly in to the recycle bin, in to the feared ‘slush pile’ never to be thought of again, just another failed attempt by a hopeless author with an impossible dream…

Well bugger me I’ve just received an email saying they want more…. they want the whole manuscript!!!

It is not an offer of publication but they want more… my writing sparked an interest… it effected someone who reads, what I’m guessing, hundreds of samples a day, mine stood out…

As proud of my little accomplishment that I am, that’s all I thought it would amount to… a few family members reading it, saying yes it’s good, I enjoyed it, then changing the subject rapidly when I ask what their favourite part was as they hadn’t yet got that far as it had bored them to giving up any hope of polite obligation.

So now what do I do?

I have got in touch with a proof reader who charges $1 per 400 words as I do not want to taint my changes giving them a self-edited pile of trash…

Can anyone recommend another proof reader or any tips on how to proceed before I pack my precious achievement off to be critiqued and  hopefully put in to the published hall of achievement?

A picture paints a thousand words

Ok so it wasn’t a picture but a song that formed a picture in my head…
Lily Allen ‘Somewhere only we know’
The John Lewis Christmas ad… at first it was the usual that’s sweet, it’s Christmas,  it’s coming whether we like it or not and another clever marketing ploy by a retail chain to get us to part with our hard earned cash in their store.
But the song played is now a chart topper and is invading our airwaves like flu germs on a bus…
I’m the type of person who has to find meaning in a song in order to like it… hence why when ‘What does the fox say’ was all over Facebook I had no clue what was going on until yesterday when it was played in the top forty charts!
So driving home today, the song came on and I actually like it, it has meaning,  so I turned up the volume and really listened, I have heard it is making people cry, making people excited for Christmas and reconfirming their love for animals…
For me? It made me push my foot down and race up to complete my final chapter of my book… I still have three or four chapters left to write to tie it all together but I was just overwhelmed with this eureka moment and I properly felt like an author as rather that relating the song to my own life, I thought of my characters and I got so excited at the thought of my readers face when they read that chapter. It also gave me a kick to get it finished before Christmas so it’s still relevant in peoples minds 😉

Do Not Disturb



So I have got in touch with all friends and family today.Thanked everyone I had to for a highly enjoyable evening last night, and informed them all and my Facebook friends that I am spending today writing.

The phones being ignored kind of… I have soft music playing and am in the zone.

I am re-editing chapters and printing them as I go along so I can refresh my memory on what I’ve written, see how character traits have been developing so far as I have them in my head, I know who they are what their feeling and am writing as if everyone else does too so a bit of revision is needed before finishing the last few chapters.

I am also doing this with a mild hangover… It does lessen your concentration ever so slightly. Yesterday it took me thirty minutes to edit a chapter, today its taken me an hour and a half. So despite all my Do Not Disturb warnings, my effort to make sure I get some work done, I failed to think of the consequences 7 or 8 glasses of wine last night may have had on me… I actually don’t know how many glasses I consumed but I did have a sore head and carpet mouth this morning… nice.

I am now moving on to the next chapter after I have found some decent motivating music, had some fruit to boost my sugar levels and will try and gather my first wind, it hasn’t come yet so there’s no need to be asking for the second wind to kick me up the bum and get me working.


Moral of the story… don’t plan a writing day after a boozy session with the in-laws.

It’s not productive but I shall persevere and conquer the hangover and hopefully spin out some good editing by the end of the day


A quiet place with a view


Sitting on the rocks in the sunshine, listening to the lapping of the waves and feeling the sun warming my skin…
No I hadn’t jet off for a last minute sun holiday to Costa Del Heaven, I had joined my partner on a fishing trip rather than taking up the pure british tradition of.. Bank Holiday? Sunshine? Beautiful weather thats guaranteed not to last more than a few days? Why lets go to a dark pub and dehydrate ourselves with alcohol in the beer garden while risking sun stroke.
Nope. Not me. I wanted to get out, enjoy, live for today… and write.
So I kindly suggested to my partner that he should partake in his favourite pastime.
I would gladly sit quietly on a jagged rock while he lost himself in hours of fishing, cursing dog fish and spearing dead mackerel.
I solemnly swore I would not get bored and brought my laptop, book and a notepad to draft ideas for a second book as proof of such. He seemed dubious,obviously knowing from past experience that these trips can last hours.
So after clambering up cliffs and edging through gorse we got settled.
I watched intrigued as he cast out his line and then sat in patient waiting, to which I turned to writing.
I did it freehand, in that the sun was shining on my screen so I had no idea how many spelling mistakes and warbled sentences there were but the draft was there. I said to myself ill write a chapter and then read a chapter of The Da Vinci code.
My partner quite baffled at how I could not be succumbing to boredom kept checking was I ok? ‘Yep good’ was my reply not averting my eyes from the screen fully engrossed in my story. He seemed to realise after a while my attention would not be wavered and my commitment was there. I was in the zone.
So he decided to place a dog fish at my feet to tear my attention away and frighten the life out of me.
Momenteraily distracted and telling him exactly what would have happened to him, had I dropped my laptop and it had gone sliding down the rocks in to the blue sea below; I returned engrossed again.
Just reaching the final climactic end to my chapter and in full writing mode my partner called it a day bored of catching dog fish and playing second fidfle to my imagination.
Im not ashamed to say I was a tad disappointed.
I had an hour left on my laptop for which I could use to write. Then I could draft my next two book ideas for another hour maybe two and then finally relish in a succesful authors work as a reward.
Instead we clambered over the rocks from which we came and headed home to a chinese and that bank holiday tradition of the pub.

The moral of the story is no matter how serene and tranquil the setting… you need to be alone, have no schedule for the day or night and have nobody expecting you at any said time.
Just a you’ll see me when you me scenario.
Also time writing days better than on your 1 Year Anniversary that falls on a bank holiday monday with fantastic we have to do something together weather 😉

My Sister My Friend…. First view to the public eye

So I put a post on my own personal Facebook page and on my book’s own Facebook page.

Do I unleash the first two chapters to see  the public response.

Open myself up to criticism and to see if it has the desired effect I’m hoping for. An ‘I want to read more, I want to know what happens next.’ response is what I really want.

10 people liked it and three people commented…. I have 24 people that like the page. That’s over 50% of my followers wanting a little piece of my amateur writing, the decision has been made.

So I am unleashing it. Facebook likers, Twitter followers and fellow WordPress bloggers and readers please offer constructive criticism, honest opinions and genuine feedback, but be gentle 🙂

Here it goes…..

Chapter 1

5th April 2000

“If you two don’t pack it in right now, I will come down there”

“Yea but muuummm she threw a pen at my head”

“Oh god forbid a pen….. careful now, we’ll be burying you by the end of the week…. cause of death… pen attack”

Bang, bang, bang…. the all too familiar sound of footsteps across the landing and the continuing sound as the feet pounded down the wooden stairs, echoing every step around the sparsely furnished hallway.

“Now you’ve done it” I spat at my sister Elle, sitting looking as smug as a cat with milk covered whiskers. “Just cos’ you’re gonna get it, don’t blame me!!” She sniped back, going back to her homework with a satisfactory smile.

Before I could retaliate, the kitchen door swung open and I was welcomed with an almighty wallop across the back of the head. “Owwaahhh!! What was that for??” I asked in annoyance, rubbing the now tender part of my head. My mum loomed over me, hands firmly on her slim hips and a stern look plastered on her face, “What if that had hit her in the eye? What if it had blinded her? How would you have been able to live with yourself?”

I rolled my eyes in irritation, “Yes mum, sorry I forgot the main cause of blindness in children is random pen attacks”

Another wallop came crashing on to my head. “She is your little sister; you should be looking after her! Not causing her pain” I looked up at my mum in disbelief, “Oh god forbid, the golden child should suffer the agony of a practically weightless object bouncing off her precious skin”. This earned me another slap across the head. “As I said, what if it had hit her in the eye? Where would we be then?”

I looked over at Elle; butter wouldn’t melt, looking innocent as you like taking in the scene before her as if it was a skit for her entertainment. The rage was growingly increasing in my stomach. “Well then we’d be sorted, disability badge, extra benefits and, ” I put up my hands and imitated inverted commas,’ “the golden child would be promoted to white gold status and would get all the attention she so desperately craves!!”

Uh oh!! I’d gone too far…..I heard a little gasp from Elle and glimpsed an indignant ‘who me?’ expression come over her face, my mum was turning a nearly comical shade of puce.

Elle was my little sister, I was old enough to know better, it was about time to grow up and start acting like an adult, amidst the all too familiar lecture raining down on me, I grabbed up my school books and flounced out of the room slamming the oak door behind me with a satisfactory bang and stuck my tongue out at the closed door. Crossing the hall to my own room, the guilt started to set in. I closed my bedroom door leaning against it and placing my books on my bedside table, I contemplated…

She was younger. I should know better, but I was quietly suffering but from the events of the school day and trying to get it all straight in my head, she’d been rabbiting on about some tiff she’d had with Maisie, the blonde brat she’d recently befriended. She was a spoilt little rich kid who seemed to be taking pity on Elle in a blatantly obvious and very mocking way.

Too innocent and naive to understand the concept of bitchery and backstabbing, I was reluctant to educate her and didn’t want to upset her by revealing Maisie was not in fact her friend.

I keeping my hurt, annoyance and irritation bottled up and in turn it had been taken out on her, the one person I’m always trying to protect.

Damn I’ll have to go apologise and explain the reason for my outburst. Reaching for the door knob, I heard the kitchen door scrape over the granite tile.

“Ariel, don’t you think for one second you’re off the hook because you stormed out slamming things…… you are grounded!!!Now get to your room, NOW!!,

I opened the door slowly to see my mum staring wildly around to figure out what room I’d stormed into. “Emm… mum, I’m already in my room, I predicted the punishment, I’ve saved you the bother and handcuffed myself to the bed” I said shrugging my shoulders with an ‘I surrender’ expression.

Mum eyes widened with anger. “Go up to Mary’s out of my sight, maybe she can deal with your childish behaviour; leave Elle alone to do her homework.”

With this she went back to Jackie Collins upstairs. ‘Good idea’ I thought Aunt Mary would know exactly what to say and would offer some suggestion on what I should do next.

Chapter 2

15 March 2012
Elle jumped upright, slamming the Heat magazine she was engrossed in down on the blue cellular blanket. Mum and I leapt out of our green coloured rubber hospital chairs, both of us had been lost in our own thoughts, each looking at Elle every few seconds, amazed she was there, awake, completely conscious, talking, practically back to her ordinary self. We had been hoping, dreaming, imagining it for days, weeks, and months and now we were here altogether.

“What is it babes?” “Cariad, what’s the matter?” Mum and I both at her side and searching her face for evidence of what could have caused such an abrupt action. “Have you remembered something?” I asked, “Have you had a flashback of the accident?” Mum asked her softly, stroking her auburn hair, searching her emerald green eyes worriedly. Elle looked back completely baffled, “What? No, no” And as realisation dawned on the panic she’d unintentionally caused. She slumped back in her bed resting her head, then a look of concern crossed her face and a slight frown wrinkled her young 19 year old skin. “No” She said softly again, reaching for her magazine, “I just can’t believe Russell Brand and Katy Perry are splitsville!!! How terribly sad.”

Resisting the temptation to take the celebrity magazine off her and give her a stern reality check, I turned away sighing to myself. Mum just looked totally lost bless her, “Russell Brand, isn’t that the psychic? Big bloke? I thought he was gay…. or is Katy now a guy’s name too? I’m so out of touch with the celebrity world these days…… “She stopped finger to her lips as if trying to solve the confusion in her head.

Poor mum, she hadn’t slept well since that day I had to make that awful phone call. She had been at the hospital twenty-four seven for the first month until she’d had enough of  my nagging and the nurses gentle persuasion; I managed to get her home for a couple of hours a day, to shower, have a cat nap and try to get her back into some kind of routine.

Easier said than done.

I looked at Elle and we both stifled a giggle, a warm feeling enveloped me that I hadn’t felt in a long time and didn’t really think I’d ever feel again. Looking at Elle and mum, our little family, quirky and random, or to quote my all-time favourite Disney character, Stitch, ‘This is my family, its little and broken, but good… yea still good’. I manoeuvred around Elle’s hospital bed and wrapped an arm over my mums slim shoulders, it disturbed me to feel such protruding bones underneath her blouse, as little sleep as she as getting, she was eating even less.

“That’s Russell Grant mum; Russell Brand is the bad boy rebel of our time… well one of them. Remember when you were disgusted to hear about the prank played on that actor you love out of faulty towers?”

“Yes that was despicable, how crude and undignified……”

“Yea, yea mum, well that was him, with Jonathan Ross, that talk show host you thought was taking the mick, not pronouncing his ‘R’s’”

“Ah yes, I get you now” Her face reddening at the memory of that last faux pas on her part.

I looked back to Elle who was back engrossed in her Heat magazine, careful not to miss a single sentence or picture in case she missed some vital information. I couldn’t help but giggle to myself observing her, oblivious to the inner turmoil I was feeling, the knots of lactic acid that were tensing up our mums shoulders. We hadn’t showed her the cards, letters, presents and tokens all sent with love and affection over the last few months. We felt it may overwhelm her.

Taking advantage of the light hearted atmosphere that had developed in our private hospital room that was like a shrine to my sister at this point, I cleared my throat and adopted my best deadpan expression.

“So sweetie” I said sitting next to her gently, aware of her still fragile state. I took her hand that was pale and thin due to being fed through a tube for countless number of days.

“Seen as your so keen to catch up on all the news you’ve missed out on” I nodded towards the magazine with a glamour shot of Tulisa plastered on the front , walking down the road pretending she was unaware she was being papped and had just woken up looking like she’d walked off a photo-shoot.

“Why don’t I go to the library and see if I can print out some newspaper articles from the last five months, everything from current affairs to rising business rates?” I bit my lip to suppress the smile that was threatening, as my mum and Elle both looked through two pairs of widened brown and emerald eyes, looking at me like I’d been the one who had suffered the head trauma.

Elle placed her hand on top of mine and with a look of pure concern and sympathy and said in a sweet little voice.

“Sis dear, I understand you have probably been worried sick the last five months, you’ve always been so protective over me, in which case, I know you have probably not been sleeping right, eating right and are probably a bit dazed and confused, you do go a bit doolally without food and sleep, that much I do remember” she said pointedly at mum.

My lip was nearly bitten off from trying not to laugh and also to hold back the tears of love and affection I felt for her and also the deep resounding regret of what I’d done to her. She continued, hand still resting on mine,

“I have not hit my head that hard that I don’t remember how mind numbingly, put you to sleep after two lines, boring, regular every day news is. If I’d forgotten that, well then I really would be in trouble, slip me back in to the coma so I can come back as meeeeee”

With this she took her hand off mine and did jazz hands either side of her face. “Ditzy Elle, the auburn who should be blonde, but should not attempt to bleach it herself”

At this point we both looked at mum, who looked exactly like we both anticipated, head in hands, shaking it, reliving the memory of that day she came home to two daughters… One with raven black hair with matching black forehead…and one with a blazing orange head that would do ‘Carrot Top’ proud. I was going Goth; Elle was going pop…

Needless to say we were explaining this to the horrified hairdresser who had to deal with that mess the following day.
“So dear Ariel, as we’ve established, I don’t need to be put back in to a coma as I am perfectly fine, I am my usual ditzy, celebrity obsessed self with five months of gossip and apparently eating to do” She looked down at her painfully thin figure in half disgust, half admiration and sighed.

“What I would love for you to do for me is head to the closest fish and chippy, get the largest portion of chips and biggest tub of gravy they can possibly give you, and something for you and mum too, I don’t want this room being mistaken for the morgue, we look like three skeletons. Return pronto so we can get CHIP-FACED!!” She said this with a triumphant little cheer.

“Elle, I don’t like you swearing” muttered mum quietly.

“Chip faced mum as in we are going to fill our faces with chips” she giggled.

“Ohhh ok” She laughed, “Chips all round then” she said reaching for her bag.

“No, no mum these are on me” I chuckled. ” Oh and Elle, I was just checking, the docs can do all the brain scans they want to ensure you’re ok, but I had to make sure for myself.”

“And??” She asked expectantly.

“Your still my ditzy baby sister” I winked at her and she smiled back gleefully. I walked away from the hospital bed turning my back on them both still smiling from the banter that had just occurred and moving away from the sound of them giggling together. Things almost seemed back to normal. Elle was back and seemed to be happy in herself. She had no recollection of what had happened to her, how she was in hospital, what had led to her being here or what had happened leading up to the accident. It was all gone. Doctors said it was probably for the best as the trauma of it happening and the fact that she had lost five months were a lot to handle as it was.

At least she didn’t have to relive it happening and with any luck she would never remember, but there is always the possibility the memories may return.

I for one, hope they never do, for her sake and mine.