Every now and then I think that everything I’ve experienced in life would make a great novel with sex, scandal and a heroine. Why a heroine you ask? Because I’ve finally worked out I could have saved myself a lot of hard work trying to find a hero by being my own hero. I took the knight in shining armor, riding the white horse literally. I think I would have to embellish a fair bit to make my story a novel and I would rather share the truth of it. I was worried that others who were and still are a part of my story would be upset by it but it is my story and if they see it another way, they can write there own because their story could help others too.

Here is a little from part 2

It all started 13 February 1999, I was 21 years old sitting in the back of a limousine on the way to my wedding. I was sharing the limousine with my father and my bridesmaids; Dad was silent and the bridesmaids were excited about being driven somewhere in a limousine. I remember being so nervous…

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