Téa always knew one day she would write a novel. It probably started with a rather risqué story in the back of an exercise book at boarding school featuring the long suffering school gardener - not really the stuff romantic heroes were made of but it was before she knew any better.

Life and few heroes of her own showed her the error of her ways and with a baby under one arm, a husband and a half built house she entered a Mills and Boon competition. To her absolute earth shattering amazement she won second place the prize was a bottle of perfume! Next time she determined she would do better.

Writing remained the stuff of fantasy. Her family, a herd of alpacas, a protea farm and teaching intervened until one day she decided it was time to do or die. No more procrastination. The characters and plots that had lived in her head for so long were clamoring to escape.

Writing remained the stuff of fantasy. Her family, a herd of alpacas, a protea farm and teaching intervened until one day she decided it was time to do or die. No more procrastination. The characters and plots that had lived in her head for so long were clamouring to escape.