Rosie Dean brings you another quintessential romance to warm your cockles as the winter draws in! Stay tuned to catch the romantic comedy author visiting blogs-a-plenty over the coming weeks, with reviews, guest posts and a giveaway!
‘What if you found yourself stranded at the altar, knee-deep in your absent fiancé’s gambling debts?
Vicki Marchant, humble art teacher and jilted bride, seizes her freedom by leaving teaching to paint – in France. It’s her time. Nobody is going to get in the way of her ambition – definitely not a man.
Vicki learns two things: some men are difficult to resist, and choosing the right one is not always easy.’
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Today Rosie Dean has dropped by my blog.
Where did Vicki come from?
Guest Post by Rosie Dean
Straight off the bat – thank you, Sonya, for inviting me to be a guest on your blog. If I can ever return the favour – my blog is your blog.
Let me introduce you to Vicki Marchant, humble art teacher and jilted bride, and the heroine of my latest romantic comedy, Vicki’s Work of Heart.
Since her marriage has now been blasted into the ether, she seizes her freedom and leaves teaching to paint – in France. It’s her time. Nobody is going to get in the way of her ambition. Definitely no men. Vicki learns two things: some men are difficult to resist, and choosing the right one is not always easy.
I have a huge soft spot for Vicki. It’s almost my story. Except that it isn’t.
I certainly used to be an art teacher and, like Vicki, I definitely knew the frustration not being able to exercise my creativity because I had no time or energy. Let’s not beat about the bush – teaching in a high school is completely knackering. As soon as I came home, I’d sit down in the armchair and conk out. Me! Surely, that was what old folks did – fall asleep in front of the Six O’clock News – not me.
So, in my downtime, I’d fantasize about moving to another country, where I could live cheaply on bread and cheese, washed down by cheap but warming wine, and spend my time painting. I’d have no responsibilities just freedom to pursue my art.
I would, of course, also be utterly stunning, with the kind of metabolism that would vaporize the calories from the Camembert and Pinot Noir. I’d be carefree, solvent and a complete man-magnet. However, I would be so into my artwork, I would swat these men out of my life and focus on my art. (Guess who’d also been in long-term relationships that hadn’t worked out?) No, my life would be much less complicated if I kept men at a distance. At least, until Mr-Utterly-Drop-dead-Gorgeous-and-Perfect-for-Me turned up. As he surely would.
So I built on that fantasy and started Vicki’s story.
I set it in France because the roots of Impressionism are there – which is my favourite artistic period. It’s a romantic country with beautiful scenery. The confections in their patisseries are beyond spectacular, and the men have the sexiest accents. No contest.
I also gave Vicki a positive, seize-the-day attitude because one thing I’ve learned is that making the most of the here-and-now is one of the best ways to keep going. But don’t panic! Vicki is no Pollyanna, she just learns how to dig into her little bag of grit when the going gets tough.
If you’ve ever dreamed about turning your back on the day job and following your dream, then you might just have something in common with Vicki too.
I’ve been writing stories since I was a little girl, when I was especially industrious and produced dolly-dressing books, complete with a typed story, a dolly to cut out on the back cover, and paper clothing with tabs on. I even sold a couple.
After growing up, I studied ceramic design – gaining a ‘degree in crockery’ as the man-in-my-life likes to call it, which I once put to good use as an Art & Pottery teacher.
Deciding I didn’t want to spend my entire life in the classroom, covered in clay and paint, I escaped to the world of corporate communication, where I wrote training courses and marketing copy.
Now I’ve given it all up to write, full-time. When not writing, I love to cook and to read, I even read in the car (talking books) and have notched up countless unnecessary miles as a result.
Not one to spend hours in the gym or pounding the pavement, I prefer Yoga and Pilates, which means I can tone and tighten whilst watching TV.
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