Monday, June 27, 2011

Busy, busy times and a little bit of Paul Henry

Hi all, can't believe it's been a week since I last posted! How slack of me! I guess that's what happens when life gets totally overloaded with work, winter sickness, overseas visitors and a busy social life.
But I'm back, still struggling my way through Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. God it's hard. But I'm hoping to finish at least one of the two books I'm reading by the end of next week because I'm sooo keen to get into my latest purchases.
And what better time of the year to get into some good books than the middle of winter when there's snow on the hills and a nice cozy fire inside.

So, guess what's on the New Zealand bestseller list at the moment... Paul Henry's memoir, What Was I Thinking.

Now I know most of you reading are not from New Zealand, so here is a little insight into Paul Henry.
He's new Zealand's most controversial broadcaster. He has been in the media for years, and has climbed up the ranks to breakfast television, from which he recently resigned after a series of deliberate racist jokes which caused an international uproar. One included making fun of Delhi Chief Minister Sheila Dikshit. Here is the video.
Another one included him asking our Prime Minister John Key if our Governor General Anand Satyanand is in fact a New Zealander and if the next Governor General will actually be a kiwi. Here is that video.

I met him a couple of weeks ago when he was doing his book tour and in my opinion, he's gutsy and is just saying what everyone else is thinking. But I'll let you make up your own mind...

Monday, June 20, 2011

Just a little teaser...

Hope everyone had a fabulous weekend! I've been doing a lot of writing lately, so I thought I would share a little bit of my novel, Missing Since Tuesday with you. So far I'm about 20,000 words in and I'm reluctant to share what it is about for fear of someone stealing my idea. But I will tell you that it's set in Wellington, New Zealand, and it involves time travel, World War Two, 2010, love, murder and betrayal.

So here goes... hope you like and look forward to reading your feedback.


As she stood in the hallway watching her brother’s hands weave frantically over the papers strewn across his desk, lit by a single desk light in the otherwise pitch-black room, Sophia worried for her brother as she always had.

Predictably, he had drawn into himself when Maria died, not speaking unless spoken to and going through life with his eyes half shut, staring at the ground as if he was waiting for it to swallow him whole. Since their granddad had died, she worried for him even more. He had not gone deeper into the chasm of depression as she had expected; he had opened his eyes and stopped staring at the ground. But he wasn’t happy. He was frantic. Awake until ridiculous hours of the morning and constantly going for drives, he almost looked as if he had a new sense of purpose, and she worried what it might be.

“I know you’re there Soph, come in if you want.” His voice startled her out of her thoughts and she went in and sat on his bed behind him.

She let him work for a little while, still watching his hands fly over the photocopied papers, grabbing the ones he wanted and scrawling notes readable only to himself.

“So what’s up little brother?” She finally asked.

He finished up a sentence and turned to face her. “What do you mean, what’s up?” He asked in a voice she thought could almost be accusatory.

“I mean how are you doing?” She said cautiously. “It’s been a hard year for you and I just wanted to check in and see how you’re coping.”

“Coping? Why wouldn’t I be coping?” He challenged, his voice rising slightly as he shifted awkwardly in his seat.

She put her hand on his knee in an attempt to assure him she wasn’t accusing him of anything and he quickly pulled away.

“Duncan, I’m not going to go all Dr Phil on you, I’m just worried about you okay? I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk.”

He was not sitting still and it was starting to irritate her. He was drumming his fingers on his legs and constantly flicking his eyes back to the pile of papers. He flicked them back to her and, with a start; she saw the thin red veins of his eyeballs stark under a cover of glass.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled. “Duncan, are you high?” She demanded, and he leapt off his chair and walked to the other side of the room away from her, and sat on the floor, putting his head in his hands.

“Duncan, answer me. Are you high?” She asked again, getting off the bed and edging towards him.

She reached him and when he didn’t answer, put a firm hand on his arm.

“Duncan!” She said fiercely. “What the hell did you take?”

“Nothing, I’m fine!” He yelled, and stood up, rounding on her and pushing her towards the door. She resisted and rounded back on him. “NO! You’re not fine!” She yelled.

“Just talk to me!” She pleaded in a quieter voice.

His red eyes seemed redder as he continued to push her out the door. “I don’t want to fucking talk about it! Get out!” He screamed, and pushed her out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Sophia stood in the center of the hallway, shell-shocked until her mother came towards her, yawning groggily and passing a hand through her short tousled hair.

“What the hell’s going on?” She asked, wanting to be angry but too tired to care.

“Nothing, Duncan’s just in a bad mood,” she replied, trying her best to stop the tears that were brewing falling down her face. “Mum, is it alright if I stay the night? I really can’t be bothered driving home,” she lied.

“Of course,” her mother replied with a yawn and toddled back to bed.

Sophia went to her old room and took the duvet off her bed. She went back to the hallway and sat down by Duncan’s door, wrapping herself in the big, warm feather-down. She kept her ears trained on the sounds coming from inside the room and heard the continuous shuffling of paper, and in the silence of the night, she could faintly hear the scratching of his pen, a soothing sound that caused her to doze. She came suddenly awake when she heard the sound of the chair creaking and the covers of his bed being thrown back.

She willed herself to stay awake and when enough time had passed for her to think him asleep, she reluctantly crawled out of the warm solace of the duvet and crept into his room. She kneeled beside his bed until she could be sure he was breathing normally and wasn’t in any danger to himself, and eventually got up, trudging back to her room, in which the digital alarm clock glared at her with a stark 3.00am.

She collapsed on the bed still rolled up in the duvet, and slept fitfully, getting up twice more to check on Duncan.

*Copyright Sarah Hardie 2011

Friday, June 17, 2011

Timewarp to 1965

Just had to share this blog post from Stuff blogger Moata. She found a bunch of 1960s magazines in an op-shop and bought a 1965 issue of New Idea. Her observations of the adverts made me laugh out loud! A brilliant way to put a smile on your face. :)

Happy Birthday to ME!!

Twenty-three years ago today, a little girl named Sarah was born. She had jet-black hair and a big red birthmark between her eyebrows, and was so very cute. She grew up in a loving household with her parents, who have now been married 28 years, her younger brother and younger sister, her kitty cat Nuggie who is now 14 years old, and four different dogs. It's been a great 23 years, and among times of devastation, heartbreak and sadness, there have been so many more happy times thanks to her gorgeous family and amazing partner who has been by her side for four years.

So today, I plan to treat myself to a nice, expensive lunch at my favourite cafe in Masterton, the Ten O'Clock Cookie and then head over the hill to see my partner and my family. Mum's putting on a roast pork for me - my favourite! And Golden Steamed Pudding and Chocolate Chippie Log (mum's own creation) for dessert. (See what I mean about my life revolving around food!)

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Good Kiwi tucka

 My life pretty much revolves around cooking. I cook for myself at home – which is a bit of a struggle because it’s so hard to cook nice meals for just one person. It’s hard to get inspired when there’s no one there to say, “yum, this is really good Sarah”. When I still lived at home, I invented the Dinner Roster to take the pressure off mum – we all had to cook one day a week and then we all pitched in on weekends – it worked well for awhile, and then fell apart when I left home…

Our family has always had a family dinner on Sunday nights, which has become all the more important now that the babies are leaving the nest. So in summer, we have true kiwi barbeques complete with dad’s amazing steak, sausages, chips, fried eggs and salads topped off with Watties tomato sauce; and in winter we have a roast with all the trimmings. Most of the time it’s me and mum or sometimes just me preparing and cooking food in the kitchen, which I love. There’s nothing like a good, hearty Kiwi meal.

My partner and I also cook together some weekends (we used to cook all the time but now we’re so busy, takeaways have become more frequent), which is great fun and really satisfying when it all works out. He also cooks for me when he knows I’m stressed out or when it’s our anniversary or sometimes just because he wants to, which is so lovely – we don’t really do big romantic gestures so little things like that are our version of romance.

So to carry on the cooking theme this week, which I unwittingly dove into and now can’t stop thinking about, I would like to share some great New Zealand cookbooks that have some fantastic classic Kiwi recipes as well as some new ones using our country’s great produce.
The New Zealand Vegetable Cookbook
I gave this one to mum for Christmas last year and she's just started using it - by that I mean she's taken it out of the cupboard and book marked what recipes she wants to make. Bless her, she's such a busy bee. I got it because mum and dad built a veggie garden a few years ago and they've grown a lot of veggies they just don't know what to do with, so I thought this would be perfect... I've just got to convince dad not to give up on the garden - he gets quite frustrated with it sometimes (especially when he has to spend loads of money fencing it off so the dog won't get in there), but soldier on dad, it'll be worth it!

Kiwi Favourites
Looove this one. It's full of tried and true Kiwi recipes most New Zealand mums should know how to make, and every Kiwi kid will have tried at least one. It has yummy meals like whitebait fritters and bacon and egg pie, and delish desserts like ginger crunch, pavlova, and lolly cake. Yum yum yum, it's making me hungry just writing about it!

The Free Range Cook
Annabel Langbein is one of New Zealand's best cooks, and this book is just brilliant. My partner's mum has this one and I just love it. Instead of having recipe after recipe, it has a bunch of other stuff like growing veggies and baking bread in an outdoor oven. It's a companion to her brilliant TV series and it takes you into her life in the country where she cooks great food in a simple, natural way.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Language of love

Some say that food is the language of love, and I for one believe that it is in many ways. Cooking is one of the most relaxing things to do for those who are "active relaxers" like myself. They also say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and I think this is true too. Cook him a good steak and he's yours. Although, men also take a lot of pride in cooking a good manly steak themselves, and those who love to cook (like my partner, lucky me!) can also reach a woman's heart through their stomach.

While reading Recipe for Life by Nicki Pellegrino, one of the few things I got out of it (wasn't the greatest book in the world) was something that one of the Italian men said. I can't remember the quote exactly, but it was something like, "the best way to show someone you love them is to cook for them. I'm making something with my own hands and putting it inside you, what could say love better than that?"

After reading, my second love is cooking, and since we're a very multi-cultural society here in New Zealand and don't really have a lot of national dishes, many of us like cooking different kinds of international food. I love Italian food with a passion - wood fired pizza, pasta, breads, herbs, yuuum! And my partner is a quarter Italian so he's got the natural flair for cooking, especially Italian food.

So a couple of weekends ago, my mum cam to visit me and we had a girly weekend watching movies and pigging out of icecream and pasta, staying in our pyjamas until midday. We watched Julie and Julia, a movie we've both wanted to watch since it came out, but there's always been others around (like men) who moan about it so we've never gotten round to it. After watching it, we now both want to try French cooking - my mum's a great cook and taught me everything I know - so I've put Mastering the Art of French Cooking on my Wishlist on Amazon.

So what are your favourite cookbooks?

Notice there's been a couple of food posts lately? Yeah, I'm having a dinner party on Saturday night so I've been stealing mum's cook books and googling recipes, so cooking is very much on my mind right now - little bit nervous actually. Was thinking about making these Red Velvet Whoopie Pies for desert, which I found on a great blog, Here Comes the Sun.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Goodbye Sarajevo

As you probably know, I'm a journalist, and in Masterton, where I live and work, we have this awesome bookstore called Hedley's Booksellers, which has been there for over 100 years. David Hedley, the owner, always lets us know about authors coming to town, as they get a lot of them because he's really passionate about what he does and always pushes to get these great authors into the store. So at the Wairarapa Times-Age, I'm the "author interviewer", simply because nobody else is really interested and I obviously LOVE books.

My latest interview was with Atka Reid and Hana Schofield, survivors of the Bosnian war, and was so, so interesting - authors are all so lovely.

The story is here on the Wairarapa Times-Age website.

I'm also reading the book myself - David gave me a reading copy to help with my story, but he hasn't asked for it back yet and I'm hooked after the first chapter, so I'm going to keep reading until he asks for it back... so watch this space for a review.

Leaving the nest

Leaving home is a strange, emotional, frightening, stressful time for both parents and children, and although I'm not yet a parent, I'm dreading the day when my children leave me and go out into the big wide world. My little brother (well, he's 20...) moved out of home on Saturday and it's amazing how much we all had to think about.

I moved out of home a year ago and I'm loving it, but it was a lot different for me because I moved to a different town four hours away from family, friends and partner (I now live an hour away so I'm getting closer!) and into an already furnished house with flatmates.

My brother has moved in with his girlfriend into an empty four bedroom house and has had to beg borrow and steal furniture and kitchen things and then find other tenants to help with the rent and fill the empty rooms. They also intended on spending $100 between the two of them on groceries and ended up spending $100 each. I just found it amazing how much stuff you need to set up a house. Off the top of my head, the essential furniture/appliances include a couch, dining table and chairs, bed, dresser, toaster, jug/kettle, bookcases/shelves ... and then you need to organise things like insurance, rubbish collection, internet, power, phone. In the next six months I'll be doing the same thing, so, even though our parents have kept all the kitchen stuff they've ever owned for this very purpose, I'd better start collecting some furniture!

So today I thought I'd share some books about leaving the nest...

Edmonds Cookery Book
This one's a classic and I'm sure every mother owns one. I know my mum and grandmother had them - mum has nana's old one I think. It has all the basic recipes like macaroni cheese, plus some more exciting ones and should be an essential item for children leaving home. Mum bought me a copy when I left home and it's served me well.

Food for Flatters
Not only does Food for Flatters have recipes, it also tells you what basic utensils to buy and what to keep on hand in the pantry. This one is especially good for the males because it has manly meals like burgers and things and, as they're not as instinctive as us about things they need for the home, the list of untensils and essential ingredients is especially handy - this one graced the kitchen of my partner's house when he went flatting with a bunch of guys.

Leaving home - A Survival Guide
This was written by two mothers who, when their children were leaving home, thought "I wish I knew then what I knew now", so decided to write a "survival guide" with all sorts of tips for kids and parents. Topics include: Real estate, renting advice, sharing with friends, money saving tips, credit card debt, economic shopping ideas, how not to be conned or ‘ripped off’, and much more.

She's Leaving Home: Letting go as Daughter Goes to College
Here's one a little different. This is a memoir telling the story of a mother and daughter over two years and the daughter goes to college. It's all about being prepared, keeping relationships going and families together, and eventually, letting go. I read some reviews on Amazon and, as expected, there are a lot of parents who can relate to this story.

Letting them go
In Letting Them Go, author David Veerman offers support, help, and understanding from a parent who's been there. It's all about preparing your heart and your child for leaving home, so it's good for both parents and children. He also offers practical advice for the time together before they leave, and a sneak peek at issues that will arise after they've gone.

Barbara and Susan's Guide to the Empty Nest
Here's one for the parents. With the kids gone, it's often hard to form a life without them and allow yourself to be selfish and do what you want to do - especially for mothers. So this one is all about discovering new purpose, passion and your next great adventure.

Friday, June 10, 2011

500 year old book for sale

If you have a spare NZ$42,000 (US$35,000) lying around, maybe you'd like to buy a 500 year old book, the German language edition of the Nuremberg Chronicle, printed by Anton Koberger and published in 1493.
It's for sale at a rare book store in Utah and is considered one of the earliest and most lavishly illustrated works of the 15th century. Pretty amazing!
Story from Stuff

How cool does this book sound!?!

Yesterday, while pleading for more advice on my Mother's Group project, one of my followers Mary J suggested I do a one-chapter-per-family kind of thing, and told me about a book called The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman. So I looked it up for inspiration and it sounds AMAZING. It's set in a newspaper office and follows the stories of each staff member from the editor in chief down to the lowly copy editor and each person's story is told in one chapter, which all interweave with each other and come to an end with a "firecracker of discovery".
The review is in the New York Times... read it!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

More on the Mother's Group

So for some reason Blogger won't let me comment on my own blog, so to add to yesterday's post, it's really the structure of the thing I'm struggling with.
I'm trying to decide whether to tell the story in order from start to finish in a novel-type format, but then there are so many different scattered memories over the 36 people in the group.
Or should I go family by family?
Or generation by generation (there's four different generations born within two years of each other)?
Or scatter the memories through a novel-type format?
Or do one page per person?
And then there's the "extras" (new spouses/step kids etc) who have unofficially joined the group over the years as a couple of marriages broke up and people remarried.
Maybe looking at some old photos might give me inspiration... hhmm

I suppose I just need to start asking everyone if they're in, which is a bit nerve-wracking because even though they're all like family, some of them may think it's a dumb idea... lol.

So thanks for your comments and keep them coming!
Sarah xo

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

New project idea: Advice needed!

Hello everyone, hope you all had a great weekend. I for one feel like I haven't sat down in days - kids are so exhausting!

So I need some advice. I have this idea that I don't know what to do with.

When I was a baby, my mum joined Plunket (for those non-New Zealanders, Plunket is a support service for mothers). One of the things Plunket did back then was get groups of mothers together who had babies born around the same time and they got together for coffee, playdates etc. Most mother's groups dissolve after a few years once life gets busy and more babies are born, but in my case, our mother's group continued. The oldest of the 23 kids are turning 23 years old this year and we're still going strong. Instead of coffee and playdates, however, the parents do all sorts of things together like go on crazy holidays and cycle around the country.

So I want to write a book about it. There's already been a book written about Plunket to celebrate 100 years, so I think my idea has a chance.

We all get together at least three times a year for significant birthdays like 21st's and 50th's, and I had the idea to write a book after going to one of the 21st's a couple of weeks ago - this one was my brother's best friend and I've always seen him as my second little brother.

The mother's in the group are mums to all of us. If one of us gets in trouble and our mother isn't there to help us, there will always be one of them there. For example, about a year ago, my partner and I went on an organised two-day cycling trip called Big Coast and a couple of the mothers group parents went as well (as their own group, not with us). On the first day before lunch, I went down a steep gravel road too fast and fell off my bike, and was rewarded with cuts and grazes on my knees, elbow and face. I got up and kept going, with an embarrassing plaster (band aid) on my chin and I arrived at the lunch spot a little worse for wear. The mother's group mums saw me getting patched up by the first aid guys and came over straight away to give me "mummy hugs" and make sure I was okay.

As for the friendships between the kids, we all have our best friends in the group and whenever we see each other at the many, many parties, there's hugs all round and instant, non-awkward conversation. They're all like ready-made friends who will never, ever not be friends.

Although some people have left over the years, the core of the group remains strong. I think the most special thing about us is that out of 23 kids, not one of us has got pregnant, died, been arrested or disowned their family. In a time when so many families are breaking up, or not even marrying in the first place, our story is a breath of fresh air - reminding people of the importance of family.

I think it's a story that needs to be told, but where to begin? Thoughts?

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Happy weekend!

Hi all,

I'm signing off for the long weekend to spend three days with family, so I hope you all have a great weekend whether it's three days or two days (depending on where you are in the world). And wish me luck! My parents house is going to be full with nine people including my two 12-year-old  and one six-year old cousins and my mum and her sister who NEVER stop talking when they're together.

Happy weekend!

Friday, June 3, 2011

Seeing Red

I'm a bit shy when it comes to sharing my own work, even though I write for a living. But journalism and creative writing are whole different ball games, so it takes a lot to share something like this. Seeing Red is a little short story I wrote ages ago - hope you like it!



The rain beat down on her windscreen as she turned into the car park. Sadie was late and stressed out, but she knew she had to soldier on for Rosie's sake.

A peak in the rear vision mirror showed her a pair of painfully pathetic blood-shot eyes, and she wiped the mascara smudges away in an attempt to feel normal.

Next she was bolting across the car park to the door of the hotel, praying her heels would not betray her. That would be just what she needed, something else to crumble underneath her.

She made it to the door without too much damage to her hair and makeup, and caught a glimpse of red in the window. Not bad, she thought. She had found the dress in the back of her wardrobe, unworn for years and, despite the fact she never, ever wore red, decided on a whim to give it a go. Maybe she was rebelling against herself, maybe it was him. Whatever the reason, she felt stronger. They do say red cars go faster.

Arriving in the kitchen, she apologized for her lateness and was rushed into work preparing chicken sandwiches. Rosie appeared in the doorway, a look of relief on her face. "Oh thank God you're here, chick, I thought you weren't going to come," she said, and was called away before she could notice the bloodshot eyes staring wearily at the chicken in front of her. Sadie's hands moved with a mind of their own, robots putting the sandwiches together.

She took a completed plate of sandwiches out to the table, not watching where she was going. The sandwiches went flying, as did she, as a leather jacket containing a tall, dark-haired God came seemingly out of nowhere. A hand reached down to help her up and she frantically gathered the wasted food onto the platter, not looking up.

"You okay?" said a concerned male voice, and a tear escaped as she stood up and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Standing at the bench, she took a deep breath. Pull yourself together, she told herself. She felt terrible for not acknowledging the man who had helped her to her feet and desperately wanted to escape. She could - she was only doing this as a favor to Rosie. She didn't even like catering.

With a sigh, she got back to work, yearning for the time when she could go home, curl up in bed and sleep forever.

The night passed in a blur and her eyes cleared as she gradually pushed the nagging thoughts to the back of her mind.

Finally able to take a break, she sought fresh air out the back of the hotel. She breathed in the night and leaned against the cold brick wall, letting her thoughts creep back in.

She thought maybe she was going through feelings akin to those of grief. Since that moment on the doorstep that afternoon, she felt denial seasoned with a pinch of regret.

She couldn't believe he would just walk right back into her like that after leaving it so suddenly. She understood he left to follow his dream, and how could she say no to that? A girlfriend is supposed to be supportive, but after three years together, she thought surely there had to be room for compromise. His idea of compromise was for her to go with him, but how selfish was that? Asking her to abandon her own dreams to follow his? No way, she was too stubborn for that.

So he had left. Just like that. With no goodbye.

And then he had come back a whole year later. Just appeared on her doorstep with no warning.

How could he expect her to take him back after a year of falling apart and putting her life back together without him? What right did he have?

The anger boiled through her chest and crept down her arm, curling her hand into a fist.

The door opened at the same moment her fist struck the cold wood wall and a man walked slowly over to her, lighting his cigarette.

"You okay?" He asked, sounding concerned. De ja vu.

"Here, let me see," he said and she held her hand out to him. He looked at her grazed knuckles with a slight frown and said, "You'll be alright". He seemed reluctant to let go and smiled, showing off a row of perfectly straight teeth.

"You're in the wars tonight, aren't you?" He said, and she realised he was the same man she had crashed into inside.

She nodded and pulled her hand away, slightly embarrassed that this stranger had come to her rescue twice in one night.

He offered her a puff of his cigarette. "It might make you feel better," he said. She took it.

"I don't think I've ever seen a girl punch a wall," he said with a smirk.

She took a deep puff. "I don't usually punch walls," she said, echoing his smirk. "It's just been one of those days."

A couple more puffs and she found herself telling this stranger about her day from hell.

They talked and she eventually forgot where she was and that her break was over. She told him about her day job. He told her about his band.

He wrote songs and his band was called Chasing Time. They played a mixture of rock and indie music. He loved the Beatles, as did she, and they fell deeper into conversation.

She was giving him her cell phone number when the door crashed open behind them. The sound startled them out of their comfortable bubble of cigarette smoke and conversation.

"There you are! We need some major help out here," came an exasperated voice from the doorway. Rosie disappeared and Sadie turned to follow her, but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

An arm came around her waist and pulled her close. She felt his dark stubble brush her skin and their lips met in a cloud of smoke, which rose up into the air, taking Sadie's day with it. "You look good in red," he whispered in her ear, and then she was gone.

Her shift finally over, Sadie made her way to the car park. The cold air struck her as she stepped outside, as did the realisation that she had not thought to ask his name. She had given him her number and let him kiss her - and kissed him back, but she did not know his name.

Weeks passed, then months, and the number she had hastily typed into the nameless musician's cell phone went unused.

Summer came and Sadie found herself browsing the CD store, one of her favourite pastimes. The words Chasing Time stared at her through the ranks of plastic squares and she picked it up. Turning it over, she saw the name of the first song. Red.

Copyright 2011 Sarah Hardie

Thursday, June 2, 2011

NZ's raunchiest read ever

Saw a story on this writer and her new book, which hit stores yesterday, on Stuff this morning and thought it was interesting. It's not often you get something like this come out of New Zealand, so I'm very keen to read it. It's called Scarlet by Leigh Marsden, and its publisher, Penguin, has described it as the sexiest read they've ever released. Everyone likes a good raunchy novel!

Here's the synopsis taken from Leigh Marsden's Website:

George is captivated by Cass and who can blame her? Cass is beautiful, sexy and outgoing and she and George run riot through the bars and beds of night-time Auckland.
But are George and Cass just girls having fun, or is there something more going on? As George sinks deeper into the nightlife her dark past begins to emerge. And who is Cass? Is she a friend, a lover or something much more dangerous?
Scarlet is an addictive tale of love, lust and betrayal that will leave you breathless.

Beautiful books

Aren't these just gorgeous?! This is a collection of Penguin Classics including Wuthering Heights, Little Women, Oliver Twist, Alice in Wonderland and heaps more great classics that came out a while ago. Are they not the most beautiful books you've ever seen? I've been meaning to get a couple, and I think my first one will be Alice in Wonderland, and then I'll get Through the Looking Glass. I know they're available at Borders and Amazon if you want some:)