CAROLE'S BOOK CORNER: Just by Jenny Morton Potts - Blog Tour, Guest Post & #Giveaway (Open Internationally)

Friday, 22 June 2018

Just by Jenny Morton Potts - Blog Tour, Guest Post & #Giveaway (Open Internationally)

I am delighted today to be featuring a new novel by Jenny Morton Potts called Just. Jenny has written a fun guest post for my blog, about eavesdropping and you can also enter a giveaway to win a copy of Just

Just

How far would you go to save a life?

On golden Mediterranean sands, maverick doctor Scott

Langbrook falls recklessly in love with his team leader,

Fiyori Maziq. If only that was the extent of his falling, but

Scott descends into the hellish clutches of someone much

more sinister.

‘Just’ is a story of love and loss, of terror and triumph. Set

in idyllic Cambridge and on the shores of the Med and

Cornwall, our characters fight for their very lives on land

and at sea.

An unforgettable novel which goes to the heart of our

catastrophic times, and seeks salvation.

GUEST POST BY AUTHOR JENNY MORTON POTTS

EAVESDROPPING, A LITERARY VICE OR VIRTUE?

Well, do you? Listen in to other people’s private conversations

? I certainly do. I have a pressing concern for matters which

don’t concern me. In fact, I’m in trouble for it, from time to

time. It usually happens on holiday. That’s when I get most

of my café entertainment. And my partner, quite rightly,

expects my full attention, and conversation. I do give it

freely but, I don’t know, something just comes over me

when the couple at the next table start to talk. I lean in and

curl my long hair behind my ear. Of course, as a writer, I am

able to excuse myself. ‘This is my work, darling. It’s dialogue

research. Why don’t you order us another Venti, sugar-free,

non-fat, vanilla soy, double shot, decaf, no foam, extra hot,

peppermint white chocolate mocha with light whip and

extra syrup. Perhaps. Or get the menu. I’m suddenly

ravenous.’

It doesn’t even seem to matter to me when the language is

one of which I have no knowledge. I still need to examine

their facial expressions, their body language, their mood;

their intention! Sometimes, it can be a whole family I am

eavesdropping on. Preferably, there has been some sort of

disgraceful incident. Usually the youngest child (like I was,

and technically still am). But mostly, I home in on couples,

because they have only one another, an intimacy which gives

them no-one to deflect and nowhere to hide. And in the

couple category, the most fascinating of all is the one which

doesn’t speak! You often get this in couples who have been

married for a duration which is longer than homo sapiens

were ever designed to live. And then there is the absolute

piece de resistance sub-category: the young couple who

don’t speak at all. That means… a rift, an argument. And

in my defence, because I’ll be glued to them at this point,

hardly able to conceal my ardour, I am a writer. Did I

mention that? Once upon a time, this last sub-category

came my way and I almost got out my notebook. But I think

my partner might’ve hurled it into the Danube had I tried

and so I held myself in check. Listen, this was the scenario:

We were in a riverside café in Budapest. So far, the weekend

had been idyllic. Fabulous hotel room overlooking the Chain

Bridge. Playing chess on a pontoon in the sulphuric hot

spring baths. Lots of us time… So I was very much in credit,

as regards behaviour. And that’s when I saw them. A young

couple disembarking from one of the cruise boats. She was

walking well ahead, since her pace was furious and his gait

was reluctant. He was looking down, head slumped into his

shoulders like a pissed off tortoise. She got to the café and

roughly pulled a chair out from the table next to us. Reader,

I couldn’t help it, my eyes saucered and I noticed when the

man reached our new neighbour’s table too, that my

partner’s eyes had closed in resignation.

‘Well?’ he said. (Yes! English!) ‘May I join you? Or are you

going to carry this thing on and on and on?’ (What thing?

What thing? I felt my fingers swiping at my phone for voice

recorder. My partner grabbed the device and pocketed it.)

The girl’s chin jutted out towards the river. ‘You can sit

where you like.’ She gestured around at the empty tables.

‘Fine. Ok fine. We’ve wanted to see Budapest for, like,

forever, but if you’re going to be like this, I might as well go

back on board and catch up on some work.’ (They’ve

‘wanted to see Budapest for, like, forever’ but they’re

only about twenty five. I had to wait till I was in my forties.

Huh!)

‘Some work? Catch up on some WORK!’ She stood up

abruptly, the feet of her metal chair shrieking on the

cobbles. ‘How practical. How very sensible. Good for you.

It’s only your fucking honeymoon!’ And she ran, yes ran,

off into a large crowd nearby, who were listening to a folk

group on the quay.

Reader, my cup ranneth over. The girl was lost in the milieu

before her new husband went after her. When I could see

them no longer, I looked at my lovely partner, who was

holding out my notebook, grinning.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jenny Morton Potts on Amazon -
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Jenny-Morton-Potts
/e/B00OIYYVPY/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1527096532&sr=1-1

Author Bio – Jenny is a novelist, screenplay writer, and
playwright. After a series of ‘proper jobs’, she realized she
was living someone else’s life and escaped to Gascony to
make gîtes. Knee deep in cement and pregnant, Jenny was
happy. Then autism and a distracted spine surgeon wiped
out the order. Returned to wonderful England, to write her
socks off.

Jenny would like to see the Northern Lights but worries
that’s the best bit and should be saved till last. Very happily,
and gratefully, settled with the family. She tries not to take
herself too seriously.

Social Media Links – http://www.jennymortonpotts.com/

https://twitter.com/jmortonpotts?lang=en

https://facebook.com/jennymortonpotts

https://www.goodreads.com/jennymortonpotts