Tag Archives: mothertrucker

Trobairitz – Book Two continues her story

She’s on the road again

Book Two of Trobairitz is due for publication. Her real name is Fleur but she prefers the nickname Weed. In Book One, Trobairitz the Storyteller, readers learn how she came by that nickname and why she still prefers to use it. At the overnight truck stop near Béziers in southern France, a group of drivers become used to her regular visits as she returns from her delivery runs into Spain. They’ve encouraged her to open up a little more and they return each week to hear more of the stories she tells.

Their favourite character is Madame Catherine Joubert, the 76 year old former sex worker who owns the best house in the village and has some sort of hold over the young mayor.

A landslide at Christmas sees Weed working alongside Jimi in the rescue mission but any further development of a relationship between them is interrupted.

Trobairitz series
Trobairitz the Storyteller – Book One with its new cover

Book Two is here at last

It’s been a long time in the making. There are several reasons for that.

Hiraeth – Hiraeth, commonly is translated as “homesickness” but it is more than that. It means a deep sense of longing, a yearning for that which has past, a sense of homesickness tinged with grief or sorrow over the lost or departed. I couldn’t bring myself to continue writing novels set in the place I had lost. It was too painful. I needed time to heal myself. I did that by writing about what had happened. I published People Who Hurt, my only non fiction book.

peoplewhohurt
my only nonfiction book

Writing the truth brought its own pain as I relived what I had allowed to happen. It was then time to move on. Still, I couldn’t visualise my setting in Languedoc, now Occitanie, without wishing I was there. So, in 2017 I wrote and published a different novel, The Sandman and Mrs Carter, a psychological mystery set in Wiltshire and a second collection of short stories, Queer as Folk.

psychological mystery
a psychological mystery

In 2021 I published a further completely different novel, set in Norfolk where I now live, A Measured Man. Poignantly humorous, A Measured Man is a not-so-romantic comedy.

RomCom
Aubrey Tennant, a bachelor in his fifties is still looking for his ideal woman

Launch date: November Twelfth

It’s a great feeling knowing how far I’ve come. I still have CRPS and on high pain days I can’t write anything at all. But now the emotional pain has gone. I don’t grieve for the place I lost. I can think of it and remember the places I loved with warmth in my heart instead of deep yearning.

This second volume follows on immediately from the first so even though it could stand alone I strongly recommend reading book one first. Book Two brings further conflict and, in Montalhan sans Vents, new characters cause drama, scandal, a wedding and a funeral.

There might even be a hint of romance if only Jimi didn’t annoy her so much.

Here she is. Preorder for the ebook is available now. Paperback is also available on the twelfth November.

Click on this link to go to my Amazon page

Trobairitz series book two
Trobairitz – her story continues

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New Volvo FM truck.Trobairitz has a new dream ride.

A new Volvo truck has recently rolled out: the Volvo FM. Oh, she’s a beauty. Oh, she’s sleek. One of the most beautiful trucks I’ve ever seen. She’s golden like ballet pumps and can turn on a dime, a euro, a ten pence piece. If you don’t believe it, watch this video.

volvofm1
newest Volvo truck

Before the official launch, Volvo held a competition. Two brand gleaming new FM trucks set out on mystery routes. The game was this: work out the mystery route; get yourself positioned with a camera and upload your photo. Prizes were awarded to best photos from various locations/countries en route. A trip to Gothenburg, no less, and the chance of a dream ride in one of these sexy beasts.

I knew one of these golden beauties was headed my way. I know how to read maps. I grew up in that era before Sat-Navs when you had to have some nous, some savvy about being out on the open road. You learned about things like landmarks; you watched the road, not a screen. You consigned routes to your memory. So, I was out there, looking, searching. If she showed up in my patch, I was ready to pounce.

I missed her. By the time I’d learned of the competition, she’d already passed through my neck of the woods. I’m still hanging around the truck stops with my camera, though.

I didn’t win the competition, but I can dream.

volvofm
come to Momma, baby!

Full frontal. Ah, I’m in love.

Living the Dream.The power of characters.

Last night I dreamed I went to duMaurierLand again. (Sorry Daphne)

Let me explain. When I was younger and I might dream of living the life of a writer, I’d create for myself a room with a desk by a French window, beyond which there would be green swathe running down toward the sea and there would be bracken and paths through stands of trees. Indoors, I would have a log fire and tea in a bone china cup and I’d probably be wearing something quite figure-hugging and pearl earrings. You see, dear reader, I read everything Daphne published. The lot. All the novels. All the collections of short stories. I keep by my desk an old copy of Rebecca and every day, before I begin, I look at it. Sometimes, I pick it up and sniff it.

Daphne
my teenage heroine

There’s nothing like the smell of a good book. Kindles can’t do that. They can’t reproduce the touchy-feely thing about holding a favourite book in your hands. It would be sacrilege to read Rebecca on an e-reader. Wouldn’t it? Would I experience the same sense of connection with the woman who has inspired me for years?

first edition - I wish I had one
first edition – I wish I had one

Can you curl up with a Kindle?

Rebecca
a scene from Hitchcock’s 1940 film

Rebecca is my talisman. I keep it by my side to remind me of the power of characters. In du Maurier’s Rebecca there’s a character so powerful she controls everything even after she’s dead.  Rebecca, who Mrs Danvers adored, still occupies the thoughts and actions of the de Winter household to the extent that poor second Mrs de Winter doesn’t even get a first name all through the entire novel.

That’s power.That’s character. And yet . . . and yet.

I’m writing in the twenty first century. I might have a desk now AND a French window, ( I live in France; everybody has French windows) but Manderley it isn’t. My characters don’t wear pearls and dress for dinner.

My main character in Trobairitz drives a truck. This is where she spends most of her time.

Volvo Globetrotter cab
My character loves her cab

 

She hasn’t worn a skirt for years. She stuffs her hair under a baker boy cap when she’s driving and it’s so long since she had any fun with a man, she wonders if all her bits still work.

Daphne, as far as I remember, didn’t write about women’s bits or have a character admire the way a man fills his tee shirt.

But, if I can get my characters onto a page , whether on paper or a backlit screen, and readers remember them long afterwards, the way I remember Rebecca, I’ll be in du MaurierLand.

Passionate about Trucks

Volvo1

I love trucks. Especially ones like this. I hang out the car window to take pictures of them. I hang around truckers’ websites like a sniper, hitting on forums and stealing their conversations. I watch all the trucker TV programmes.

It’s no surprise then, that my novel Trobairitz features a mothertrucker as its main character. Trobairitz were female troubadours in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. My twenty-first century lady troubadour tells stories at an overnight truck stop. She doesn’t know she has it within herself to put back into her life the things she needs. She doesn’t even know she needs them yet.

Volvo2

She’s careful about getting too close to people. That’s why she tells stories instead.

She loves driving. She loves her truck.

She has another love.

 

 

Etype
powder blue – champagne leather seats

Her car.