Excerpt from Love, in writing (Escape Publishing)

A hardcore Science Fiction writer and a soft-hearted romance novelist clash on the sunny South African coast...

Margaret Parker is a hopeless romantic whose fantasies fuel her writing. For Graham Connelly, science fiction is the perfect genre to express his cynical world view. A chance meeting in a lift leaves them both interested and aroused — with no clue as to the other's identity.

Margaret has been looking for a face to match her new fictional hero — and Graham's is it. Graham has been looking for proof that innocence and optimism still exist — and he's found it in Margaret. But fantasy isn't reality, and both Margaret and Graham are used to controlling their fictional worlds. Can they step off the pages long enough to find their own happy-ever-after?

A link to Escape Publishing where you can find a link to all the e-book retailers: http://www.escapepublishing.com.au/product/9780857990921

And one to amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/Love-Writing-Elsa-Winckler-ebook/dp/B00FB3MWNE/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1390813580&sr=1-1&keywords=Love%2C+in+writing

‘Details, my dear, details,’ Jen called out as soon as Margaret walked through the door of her bookshop.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Margaret said and with her chin held high, tried to squeeze past Jen. Unfamiliar feelings had kept her up most of the night and when she’d finally fallen asleep, erotic images of her and Graham making love woke her up. Now all she wanted to do was to try and occupy her mind with something normal so that these constant thoughts about a strange man could vanish.
Laughingly, Jen grabbed her arm. ‘Oh no, you’re not getting off so easily. The last time I saw you, Graham Connelly had you in his arms and you looked blissfully happy. What happened?’
Margaret winced. ‘He actually carried me out?’
Jen nodded.
‘I was sleeping?’
‘Snoring. You, my friend,’ Jen said and pointed towards Margaret, ‘were completely and wonderfully sloshed. You did it with style, though, I’ll give you that. No loud singing or dancing on the tables, you just passed out gracefully. A good thing, considering some of the esteemed guests we had.’
Margaret opened her mouth, but then closed it again. She stormed down the corridor to her office. She should find a hole where she could hide out for the rest of the day. Jen’s peals of laughter followed her all the way into her office.
She sat down and cradled her head in her hands. Two glasses were her limit. What was she thinking? And to be so out of it that she didn’t even know Graham of all people had carried her. What must he be thinking? A groan escaped her lips.
Her fingers touched her mouth. She could still taste him, feel him. Who was this man who had, within the short span of a few days, thrown her completely off balance? And why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? Stop dreaming about him?
‘Black coffee?’
Margaret opened her eyes. Jen stood in the door with a cup of coffee.
‘Thanks.’

Excerpt from Love, in Writing by Elsa Winckler

He drew in a deep breath. ‘You were in the lift with me last night, weren’t you? You’re wearing more clothes now. What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow me here? What…?’

Margaret seldom got angry. She normally found it a useless exercise. No one took her seriously anyway and she always ended up with a terrible headache. But she was angry now. And the beginnings of a whopping headache stretched its tight tentacles across the back of her head.

 ‘I was unfortunate enough to have to share the lift with you last night, yes. But this is my shop. I did not follow you here.’

 ‘Your shop?’ He seemed to be at a complete loss for words. For a little while at least. Then he gestured irritably to the books on the shelves. ‘This is a ridiculous bookshop. You don’t have any science fiction books, no —’

Margaret lifted her chin. ‘You are most welcome to leave, sir. No one is forcing you to stay. And we do have science fiction books. There is a whole section behind you. You will also find the latest vampire stories there. The only difference between this book store and any other is that —’

 ‘You only have books with happy endings. I’ve never heard of anything so completely bizarre. It is, you know.’ 

‘Well, now you have. Goodbye, sir, I don’t believe we have anything of interest for you.’

 ‘You can’t kick me out, I’m a paying customer!’ He looked around. ‘And from what I can see, you need some of those,’ he sneered.

 Margaret walked towards the door. ‘Please leave. As the proprietor, I have the right to kick out anyone I want to.’

 From the corner of her eye she could see Jen vehemently shaking her head and trying to catch her attention. But she now wanted the man out of her shop, out of Kommetjie, out of her life.

He stared at her for a long moment and then walked passed her, muttering. ‘Margaret, do you have any idea who that man is?’ Jen asked breathlessly.

‘Yes. He’s the one I told you about this morning. He was the one who thought I was stalking him, as if I…’

Jen laughed and covered her face with her hands.

‘What?’ Jen dropped her hands and rolled her eyes dramatically.

‘That man, my dear Margaret…’ She giggled again. ‘That man, the one you have just kicked out of your shop, is Graham Connelly. The Graham Connelly. The world renowned Graham Connelly. Science fiction author. You even have one or two of his books here. Only those with happy endings, of course, but at least we do have a few of his books.’

Margaret groaned and sat down in the nearest chair. She swore.

Jen inhaled sharply. ‘Did you use a bad word?’ Jen giggled.

Margaret swore again. ‘Yes, and I know I never do, but that man…’ She got up and paced restlessly through the shop. ‘I was rude, but I had a reason to be. He is…he is…impossible.’

‘Impossible? Is that the best you can do?’ Jen laughed. ‘But I can see that you are really angry and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you angry. Your eyes are stormy, you are breathing heavily, your cheeks are red and you have been swearing. And all because of a man. Does any of this sound familiar to you?’ 

‘What do you mean?’

Jen only smiled. ‘You should read your own books. Any first chapter of any of your books. What we have here, Margaret dear, is a first chapter in one of your romances.’ And still smiling, she turned to a customer who had entered the shop.