It’s two days away from the book launch for Blood Money and I am inexplicably anxious. ( my speech is still only an idea, do I need a speech? What if no one comes? Why didn’t I buy shoes?) I was rattling so much earlier that Andrew took me for a pint to ‘medicate’ my nerves. What’s wrong? he wanted to know.

Damned if I had a good answer. I suppose it’s fear, fear of failure, fear of making a wally of myself at the launch, fear of the unknown. I am not a fearful person by nature, but for some reason I have a lot of stock in Blood Money. I like the book a lot, I so want people to like it too, for it to fire up for them the moral questions the subject matter does for me, I want people to read it and ask themselves what they might do in the situation some of  my characters find themselves, to carry donor cards, to be ‘aware’.

Then I think, ‘good grief, get over yourself Missus.’

Well, Blood Money will do as it will do. I want only to tell a story, to be read and to entertain. If I can pull that one off, it will do,  it will do nicely.