I've been bad, and not posted for almost a month. But in my defence I have been writing like a beast and finished my thrill-rom-ror (thriller romantic horror). It was supposed to be a romantic horror, but Hank didn't agree with me. So we worked through some of my issues, as per usual and it is what it now is. Obviously it's based in London. As always.
I spent the weekend out in Hertfordshire, green fields, sheep, horses, England's flatlands. While ruining all the fresh air I inhaled by doing shots of tequila and devouring hog roast, potato salad and about half a baguette of bread, I rather enjoyed the quiet. The quiet after the debauchery.
I loved looking out of the window and not seeing any cars, shops, drunk people (they were all asleep) clubs, pubs, restaurants for miles around. People tell me that their perspective changes once they have children and then there is all sorts to take into account when thinking about where to live. While holding a gorgeous four month old baby girl (seriously thought about kidnapping her) it crossed my mind that I could move into the middle of nowhere in the future. Then I thought about how the hell I'd get my hair products. How much petrol I'd use up driving to the nearest supermarket for mashed potato when right now I can walk it. That most of all I'd miss the buzz.
Don't get me wrong, if I have kids, I probably will end up being psycho momma who moves thirty miles to get within good schools priority distance, but not out of London. I grew up in this city and I'm fine. Mostly. With the bite of the travel bug still strong within me, I've got an internal homing beacon and it's got London programmed right into it. So I'm London through and through. Expect to see that in the books for a while. Long while. Except when we vacay to Italy. Other than that, totally London. Bloody Hertfordshire making me test my loyalty!